Pete's newest painting: Dance Studio

Denver's Iconic Bear Rebuilt

 Pete found some broken blue bear at work, so he decided to do a little surgery on them.  With a little bit of putty and some paint, these little guys have a new life.

Miki reviews Dead Wake, the newest book by Erik Larson

I am officially an Erik Larson groupie.  This man can do no wrong in my eyes.  As a person who hated history class is school, I almost find it comical how much I love Larson’s books.  Not only do I absorb everything he writes, but he also inspires me to read more and more about the topics he writes about.  I am OBSESSED with history now.

Larson’s newest work, Dead Wake: The Last Crossing of the Lusitania, has yet again pulled me into the past.  Most of us have heard about the sinking of the Lusitania.  Some of us may have even known the significance of this event.  What makes this book fascinating is the humanity that Larson puts into the story.  Dead Wake is more than just a retelling of the journey of the Lusitania; it is more of a catalog of the stories of those people connected to the tragedy.  Some of the people that Larson writes about are survivors, some are victims, and some or responsible for the fate of the ship and its unlucky passengers. 

With all of these stories, Larson gives life to the people on the ship and he gives life to the story.  Sometimes, when we read about tragedies of the past, we forget how many hearts were broken, how many lives were changed, and what all was lost.  In this book, the reader can really connect to the event.  The lives of newlyweds, newborns, young hopefuls, and even old men were all changed or ended by the torpedo that struck the giant ship.  In Dead Wake, you are bound to find a story that will connect you to the tragedy and pull at the heart strings.  Especially if you are a book lover, you will find that there is now a very sacred treasure at the bottom of the sea. 

I encourage history buffs and history 'rebuffers' to give one of Larson’s books a try.  If anyone can make history a page turner, it is Erik Larson.

A Review of The Hotel on Place Vendome, a book by Tilar J. Mazzeo

There is perhaps no more storied hotel in the world than the Ritz in Paris. Its sometime residents included Coco Chanel and Ernest Hemingway. In the bar, one might find the ghosts of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald. And, during the German occupation of WWII, the hotel was also home to many of the Luftwaffe officers and its leader, the notorious Hermann Goring. The Ritz was the last stop for Princess Diana before her fatal car crash.

 

The Hotel on Place Vendome, by Tilar J. Mazzeo, tells the story of the Paris Ritz from its establishment in 1898 (founded by Switzerland’s Cesar Ritz), through the German occupation from 1941 to 1944, and its bright future following several renovations (which continue to this day).

I found the German occupation portion of the story the most compelling. Gathered in one hotel you had German sympathizers, German collaborators, Free French activists, spies and counter spies, French actresses dating German officers, and on and on…And it all seemed miles away from the raging war until people began disappearing, rumors spreading about torture and death camps.

It was interesting to read about what happens when a great city like Paris is all of a sudden occupied by another country. And even more interesting to read about its liberation. Hemingway plays his part. And what about the actress who dated the German officer? You’ll have to read it to find out. 

Pete Reviews the New Novel, The Last Days of Video

A Review of The Last Days of Video by Jeremy Hawkins

Not so long ago there were bright blue Blockbuster video stores seemingly everywhere. I remember having my own Blockbuster card and renting a couple videos for the weekend. With the smell of popcorn, the staff recommendations, the new releases, it was kind of a nice memory. It wasn’t so nice, however, for the independent video stores of that era, the stores that struggled mightily against the Blockbuster brand but usually lost in the end. The Last Days of Video, a novel by Jeremy Hawkins, tells the story of Star Video, a barely surviving independent video store in a small college town in North Carolina. The store has the town to itself until a brand new Blockbuster opens just down the street.

It’s 2007 and Star Video isn’t the place you’d go to find the latest Fast and Furious installment, but rather where you’d find a nearly forgotten classic or something from the French New Wave. It’s where you might find Wax, the hapless owner, and Alaura, his devoted second-in-command. There’s also Jeff, the freshman, virgin, new hire, and an assortment of other eccentrics, employees and regulars alike. But all who enter Star Video have one thing in common, they all love movies no matter what new technology threatens to rub them out of existence.

If you’re a fan of the book or movie High Fidelity, or the movie Empire Records, or simply a reader who also loves movies, then I would highly recommend this funny, sentimental, first novel from Jeremy Hawkins. Can one be nostalgic for 2007 -- just eight years ago as I write this? Surprisingly, yes. 

Miki and Pete collaborate for their first Spy Thriller

Target: Howard Marks

By Miki and Pete Schulte

Kellen Conrad was still entry-level at the agency. He’d done nothing to esteem himself, but not given the chance either. His job was to keep surveillance after retired workers with the agency, to make sure they still knew how to keep secrets following their tenure of service. This was important. They knew a lot, and could still do ample harm to the agency despite advancing age and circumstance.

To Kellen though, the position had plenty of downtime, weeks of unadulterated boredom. He often fell asleep at his desk. The retirees, after all, weren’t all that active. They’d take walks, go to the park, the mall, and then eat an early bird supper. And that was on a busy day. Some days they’d just putz around in their underwear and do nothing at all.

But one day at the office there came a call with a tip. A double-agent, Boris Karkov, wanted Kellen to know that one of his possible charges, a Howard Marks, had chatted him up at the park and mentioned he’d worked on the 3.14 Project Series back in the day. Karkov thought the old man knew what he was taking about, though he appeared confused at times and was possibly suffering from Dementia.

Kellen studied up on Howard Marks and the 3.14 and found most of the documents blackened out. This was serious stuff, he thought, serious enough to kick it upstairs to Mr. Smith. Not doing so would be risky. Though this was probably nothing, a mistake and the wrath of Mr. Smith could end his career, or worse.

That same afternoon, Kellen was let into Mr. Smith’s office. He cautiously approached his intimidating boss. He was not invited to sit. “What have got, Conrad?” said Mr. Smith. “It’d better be important.”

“I’ve got a former, sir,” Kellen replied. “Howard Marks, age 91.”

“Never heard of him.”

“I did some checking,” said Kellen. “He’s in good physical health, this Marks, but mentally he’s slipping. Perhaps symptoms of dementia.”

“Keep going…”

“Anyway, Marks talked to my double, Karkov, in the park over a game of chess. It seems he mentioned something called the 3.14 Project Series. It sounded familiar to Karkov and he became concerned. What is the 3.14 anyway?”

“What that is, Conrad, is none of your concern. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, go about your business, okay Conrad? I’ll call you if I need you.”

With that, Kellen was dismissed from Mr. Smith’s office and returned to his own. The call from Mr. Smith came within the hour. He was ordered to return at once. This time he was asked to take a seat. “Conrad,” said Mr. Smith, “this is what you need to know. Marks must be terminated at once, and you’re going to arrange for this to happen. With his advanced age and dementia, he cannot be trusted with information regarding the 3.14. The 3.14 still has repercussions to this day. Is that clear to you?”

“It is clear,” replied Kellen, “but termination, sir? Is such an old man really that dangerous?”

“Now don’t give me those puppy dog eyes, Conrad. Marks has lived a long life, a good life. But he signed on for this just like we did. Rule number one: If you spill the beans, the beans spill you. You have a problem with that, Conrad?”

“No, sir.”

“Now your mission is to go to the West End Seniors Center. You will ask for Andy -- no last name. When you make contact, you will inform Andy that there has been a breach. You will provide the name Howard Marks. That is all. Also, you will be in full disguise. This will be an in-person contact. No calls or computer, no trace at all. Clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Conrad,” continued Mr. Smith, “you must not fail. Failure would be highly detrimental to the agency, and to you particularly. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. I‘ve got it.”

Kellen felt ridiculous in disguise. He never wore a ball cap and this one seemed to sit funny on his head. His glasses were too large for his face and his fake mustache made him look like a 70’s era porn star. His limp felt forced and the artificial cast on his arm itched. He couldn’t wait to get this over with.

After arriving at the West End Seniors Center, Kellen waded through walkers and wheel chairs to get to the reception desk. He’d given up on the limp already. He was met at the desk by a young women wearing some kind of nurse uniform. Her name tag read ‘Paulette.’

Kellen Conrad had always thought himself too smart and cautious to believe in such a silly concept as love at first sight. That is, until he looked into the gray-green eyes of Paulette. Oh, he was smitten all right, but he had a job to do. He had to help kill an old man.

“May I help you?” asked Paulette.

Kellen didn’t know whether to ask for Andy right off or poke around for him first. So he said to Paulette, “My parents are aging. I wanted to get a look at your establishment.”

“Our establishment?”

“Well, I wanted to see if it was a nice place. That people are cared for.”

Paulette thought for a moment, then said, “They are cared for here. I see to that. They’re like family to us, all the way to the end. Would you care for a tour?”

“Yes, that would be nice.”

“But first,” said Paulette, “you must tell me where you got those glasses. They’re fantastic. You look like Elton John.”

“Oh, thanks. My usual ones broke.”

“Like your arm,” she continued.

Kellen glanced down at his fake cast. “Yes, like my arm.”

“What is your name anyway?”

“My name?” he said, buying some time to think of a good one.

“Yes, your name.”

“My name…is Ben Sterling.”

Paulette smiled and thrust out her hand for him to shake. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ben Sterling.”

Paulette’s tour was thorough and very detailed, but Kellen wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. Instead, all he could think about was wanting to hold her hand, wanting to kiss her lips, wanting her, loving her. It was the best tour he ever had, this tour of the old folks home. Then she came upon a room and poked her head in. “Mr. Marks, how are you feeling this morning?”

“Well, I’m not dead yet,” he said from his bed, this tiny old man under the covers.

“No,” laughed Paulette, “of course you’re not dead. I’m afraid you’re going to be with us for quite some time.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that,” replied Howard Marks. “Please don’t tell me that.”

“Now, Mr. Marks, please don’t joke around like that. I’m giving Mr. Sterling a tour, and we don’t want to give him the wrong impression. This is a happy place.”

“Sterling,” said Howard Marks, “run -- don’t walk. That’s all I’m saying. This one’s beautiful, but I trust her about as far as I can throw her. The pretty ones are deadly.”

“Oh, Mr. Marks,” said Paulette, “you tease me so much.”

They soon left his room and resumed the tour. When they got back to the desk, Paulette checked her watch and hinted to Kellen that their interaction was over. Kellen quickly gathered his senses. “I’m wondering, Paulette, if an acquaintance of mine is still working here. His name is Andy. Do you know him?”

“Andy? Of course. I’ll call him in.”

Andy came in and looked Kellen over warily. Kellen greeted him as if he were a long lost friend and did his best to find them a place out of earshot from the desk and Paulette. Satisfied, he whispered to Andy, “There’s been a breach…”

It was well after midnight when Andy entered the room of Howard Marks. He found Howard, wide awake, sitting at his desk by the window. “You’re still up?” inquired Andy.

“Yes,” replied Howard. “I knew there was something screwy going on when I had two visitors today. That’s two more than I’ve ever gotten.”

“You mentioned the 3.14 to somebody at the park. You know you can’t do that.”

“I did?” said Howard. “Well, maybe I did. I can’t keep track any longer. It‘s all so confusing.”

“I know,” said Andy. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Wait,” replied Howard. “Before you do you worst, let me have one more drink -- and you have one too, with me. For old time‘s sake.”

“That’s fine, Howard. One more drink.”

“What will it be,” asked Howard, pulling two bottles from the lower part of his desk, “whisky or gin?”

“Whiskey is fine,” said Andy.

Howard poured two glasses and passed one of them to Andy. They toasted to good times and then it was down the hatch. Andy was fine for a moment and then felt something burning deep inside. Then he went to breath but couldn’t without gasping. Then he knew he shouldn’t have taken that drink.

“Why did you choose whiskey?” asked Howard. “Doesn’t anyone drink gin anymore?”

Kellen got word that Andy was found dead. He had no choice but to give this information to Mr. Smith. Needless to say, he was not pleased. “Andy is dead? That fool. I should just hire senior citizens for these positions. Everyone thinks they’re so stupid, and yet, look what happens? Marks is alive.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“You’re sorry? Well, Conrad, I have no use for your sorrow. I need you to contact the one person who will not fail, the one person who has never failed. I need you make contact with… Paulette.”

“Paulette?” questioned Kellen.

“Yes. Paulette.”

The end.

Pete is Plowing Through Books These Days

A Review of My Sunshine Away, a novel by M.O. Walsh

 In 1989 Baton Rouge, Louisiana, a teenage girl, Lindy Simpson, is knocked unconscious and sexually assaulted in a neighborhood where these kinds of things didn’t happen. Lindy’s classmate, a boy who loves her to near obsession, tells the story. He finds himself a suspect, which at first is difficult to believe since he seems to be such a wholesome young kid. Yet the more he reveals about himself, sometimes in brutal honesty, the more you realize how hard it would be to rule him out as the perpetrator. But there are other suspects as well: a creepy neighbor man, an older boy frequently running afoul of the law, or perhaps a perfect stranger that’s never to be seen or heard from again.

My Sunshine Away is part coming-of-age story, part mystery, part southern gothic tale. The novel takes you back to the tragedy of the Space Shuttle Challenger and then later the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. It begins with the narrator’s tidy world -- all school and Lindy and home. But the sexual assault changes everything, and by and by his and Lindy’s world broadens, police are notified, families are forever changed. For them, innocence -- if that‘s what it really was --disappears forever. Thankfully, adulthood comes with its own surprises.

The narrator thinks back to Lindy Simpson and wonders what became of her. The question of who assaulted her may have been clearer had he not been lost in a hormonal fog. The question of her future cannot be solved unless, by chance, they meet again…

I know the year is young, but My Sunshine Away is my current favorite novel of 2015. I loved how Baton Rouge was described: the heat, the food, the insects, the snakes, the swamps, the old south floral beauty. Portrayals of the family, friends, and neighbors reminded me of a John Irving or Jeffrey Eugenides novel. I felt for a while that I was living in their lives, and I imagine any suburbanite growing up anytime close to that era might feel the same.