Sometimes I don't have enough patience for Mr. B. Tonight was one of those nights.
He wanted the Cherokee alphabet. I didn't get around to that one. I think he wants to make a Cherokee dreidel. It's a long story.
And he also wanted the address of a one R.H. Fulton. The details are fuzzy. Apparently, he owned R.H. Fulton Pipelining in Lubbock, TX. He even gave me a partial street address. Kinescope. I Googled all of those items and came up empty. The only thing I found of real interest was this. I couldn't find any street named Kinescope in Lubbock. Maybe I didn't look hard enough but it was one of those days. After I told Mr. B I couldn't find anything about the company he asked if there was anything about Mr. Fulton's mansion. I told him millionaires don't usually have their address readily available online.
Sometimes when I'm going through the hundreds of cards of Mr. B's I get a little scared of being in his world. It's a weird place.
I work in a public library in Any City, USA. The thing about public places is that they tend to attract, well, everyone. From time to time you may get some slightly eccentric folks who become "regulars." My favorite regular is Mr. B. He likes to leave "suggestions" written on index cards all over the library. I've been collecting them for some time and they are lovingly presented here with the original spelling and phrasing. But that's just part of his story...
Sometimes it's better to be allowed a peek into a world like Mr. B's though. That way you can coast the rim of surreality while still being able to pay your bills with money instead of leaves from various trees ^^
ReplyDeleteI love/hate that google is around these days... it makes it easy to search for these things Mr. B brings to you, but it's that much harder to NOT get sucked down the rabbit hole- Keep writing!