My friends and family often find what I am doing strange and tell me how crazy I am. I might take that seriously if they didn't often wind up doing exactly the same thing.
Example: I organized an ecumenical Christmas concert that continued for 29 years, with as many as 120 singers. One of my sisters said it was a silly idea, then started one in her town.
Second example: I wrote out my funeral instructions and gave a copy to my parents. My father was so, so upset that I wanted to be cremated. The idea must have grown on him over the years because when he died, we found out that he, too, thought cremation made sense. A sister and my mother followed suit.
Third example: on a whim, I ran for election to the city council and darned if I didn't win. I hated it and after two years, I quit. But by that time, my brother was on the Ashland city council. He is finding it just as awful as I did.
So it doesn't surprise me that after I started writing really depressing Christmas stories, Wade decided to try his hand at it, too. He decided it would be really depressing (and funny) to have his hero get arrested at Christmas and he was right. He posted his story yesterday: http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com
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