Into the Stormtroopers. Part One
Today’s post has nothing to do with wine. This is part one of a true story about a presidential assassination attempt, the American Nazi Party and personal regret. In light of recent events it seemed an appropriate time to tell the tale. All photographs ©1981 Donald Carter.
NOTE: “Into the Stormtroopers Part One and Part Two” was published in Living Springs Publishers anthology, Stories Through The Ages Baby Boomers Plus 2020.
“This is a must-read story about the tumultuous events that abruptly thrust Don Carter into the international spotlight and an adventure of a lifetime … Don’t miss this gripping, page-turning mystery about events that every baby-boomer will remember. Don won second prize with his story.”
NOTE: “Into the Stormtroopers Part One and Part Two” is the First Prize winner in the 2017 Writer’s Workshop of Asheville “Memoir” competition.
“… writing style is impressive, and the descriptions were vivid. The content is gripping, unusual and page-turning!” The Writer’s Workshop of Asheville.
NOTE: The literary journal New Millennium Writings awarded this article Honorable Mention.
Of White Power and White Guilt
As a younger man I seldom gave thought to motivation or consequence. I felt compelled to take risks – to seek out the dark places and walk with the beasts – but the nearest I came to reflection was when I inevitably picked myself up, checked for injuries and wondered, “What the hell was I thinking?”
As an older man I’ve struggled with the emotional fallout that comes from second-guessing one’s actions but despite some feelings of regret, I believe my raison d’être was well intentioned. I like to think I climbed under the bed in the middle of the night, faced the monsters and dragged them into the light so that we might all better understand the hatefulness that grows in the shadows we choose to ignore.
When I was a freshman at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago I set out to expose these darker places. Little did I suspect that the images I captured would one day attract international attention and the FBI, subpoena in hand, would come looking for the monsters I uncovered.
More on that later.
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Read MoreSweet Rejection – Returning Wine in a Restaurant
Lately I’ve come across several articles about the uncomfortable task of rejecting a flawed bottle of wine when it arrives at your table. I thought I’d join the conversation since I’ve been married for over 30 years and that qualifies me as an expert in rejection. It’s actually been a great 30 years and my wife openly admits it’s been the best ten years of her life. If she could turn back time she wouldn’t ask me to change a thing – except maybe the white suit I wore for ten years following Saturday Night Fever.
Years ago a new restaurant opened in our neighborhood and given the high praise it received from the gourmand filling my gas tank I decided to put on my white suit and take my wife there for her birthday. It’s these kinds of decisions that make me the unequivocal rejection expert I am today.
Read MoreThe Wines of Anjou-Saumur Take Me Back to a Classier Time
Chapter Sixteen. Part Twelve.
If you follow the Loire River about a hundred miles eastward from Saint-Nazaire on France’s Atlantic coastline, you will come to the picturesque vineyards of Anjou and Saumur. Both red and white wines are produced here but the largest production in Anjou is a dry rosé that goes by the name of Rosé d’Anjou.
This uncomplicated wine, produced from the Grolleau grape, is hardly revered around the world but it has a special place in my heart because it was briefly popular when I was a young man courting my wife. For you Millennials in the audience, “courting” is an English term for “hooking-up”. Courting was a refined ritual, a classy pursuit that entailed actually “driving” to her house and “picking her up” in my “car”. Then we’d dance and drink Rosé d’Anjou like a couple of sophisticated continentals until we puked.
Today Rosé d’Anjou has fallen out of fashion as young American consumers have decided it’s much classier to puke Provence rosé.
Read MoreSuper Bowl – The Menu Says Sweet, Your Friends Want Dry
The holiday season comes to an end this Sunday. We celebrated a harvest Thanksgiving, rejoiced in the birth of our savior, and welcomed a new year. Now comes that most sacred of American holidays – the Super Bowl, a holiday commemorated by 114 million people paying homage to hostile 300-pound men battling in day-glo tights. Don’t you just love this planet?
I didn’t expect the Giants to make it to the Super Bowl and they didn’t let me down. They lost in the first round of the playoffs and I spent the following week watching game replays on ESPN because depression makes me so happy. I was so disheartened I actually stopped eating for a minute.
To cheer me up my wife decided to have friends over on Super Bowl Sunday even though she knows I like watching football without a lot of distractions. That’s why I always make the kids leave the room when the game begins. This starts with some simple cajoling but usually ends with a tantrum and a lot of tears. Sometimes the kids get upset too.
Read MoreMuscadet. Do I Taste Seashells or is it Just a Fluke?
Chapter Sixteen. Part Twelve.
The Muscadet wine region surrounds the French city of Nantes, where the Loire River meets the Atlantic Ocean. This is the westernmost of the Loire Valley appellations and is the home to the Melon de Bourgogne grape. As the name implies, Melon de Bourgogne originated in Burgundy but despite the other half of its name, it has no connection to the cantaloupe.
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