Nathaniel Robert Winters's Blog: Not Quite Kosher

Mary Christmas ?

When I was a Jewish child growing up in New York, I remember walking down the street
in December and hearing people Wishing everybody a Mary Christmas. I wondered,
Who is this Mary Christmas girl anyway?
I have learned from my Irish-not-quite Catholic wife and her family who this
Mary Christmas lady is:
She is the woman who holds the hand of a person dying of cancer.
She orders Chinese take out after the holiday turkey burns to a crypt.
She is a red-haired-green-eyed-beauty on the beach in Hawaii on a cold winter’s day in N.Y.
She hides all the presents so when the kids come there is nothing under the tree.
She skis down the tallest mountains and looks good all the way down.
She dances ‘till midnight and makes love ‘till dawn.
She stays up all night with a sick kid and goes to work the next day.
She laughs at your jokes and will tell you a better one.
She is a best friend, who really listens when you have a problem.
She brings soup to soup kitchens and good wine to a party.
Mary Christmas is the reason you and I love women.

So, I want to wish everyone a very Mary Christmas.


With love,
Nathaniel Robert (Bob) Winters

Heavenly Bodies and other Diversions is a collection of stories, poetry and prose by award winning author Nathaniel Winters. His subjects include nature, history, sports, love and of course a little romance.

Heavenly Bodies and Other Diversions: Stories & More

(Bob)Nathaniel Robert Winters has done it again. Heavenly Bodies and Other Diversions has a fascinating array of stories and poems to delight readers. He is launching this book officially on October 3, 2018. Look for special deals on Amazon.




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Gettysburg GPS 2018

Fourteen score and fourteen years ago
one forefather (Lincoln) brought forth on this continent
in this nation an emancipating document
dedicated to the proposition
that all men and women are free
and should be treated with due respect.
Now we find ourselves engaged
in a great war against civility.
That one man elected president
by a minority of the people
shows a clear and utter disrespect
for many of its people.
We owe it to those who came before
in this great nation to rededicate ourselves
to the Emancipation Proclamation
and the Independence Declaration
that all of the people are created equal
enjoy the inalienable rights and respect they deserve.

Nathaniel Robert Winters

Have you noticed so many ex-hippies are getting their hips replaced? Maybe from taking too many trips. Okay, sorry bad pun.
Seriously, if your body needs a hip replaced get it done, because the hip bone is connected to the leg bones, is connected to the feet bones, and we all need to do what we need to do to get up and march.
We now have a president who is so odious and Orwellian that he makes Nixon look good in hind-sight. Can you believe the party that was once dominated by Joe McCarthy is rejecting NATO a cow-towing to a Russian Dictator?
Mr. Trump it seems even borrows from Hitler’s playbook, “If you tell a lie often enough it becomes the truth.”
I’ve looked at both sides of storm clouds now. So, old friends, get your hips fixed and ready to rock and roll. You don’t have to be a weatherman to know that climate change winds are going to blow.

Dangerous Curves


She walked into my office on a Friday, I remember because I planned to play in my weekly poker game. I never got to that poker game because that lady got to me.
She was dressed to kill, short black dress with a string of pearls falling into a deep dark valley of cleavage. Her body filled the tiny dress like a straight flush, with more dangerous curves than Highway 1 at Big Sur. Long sheer nylon covered legs ending in black stilettos, almost making her as tall as my six feet two.
She brushed back wisps of brown hair from an angelic face with eyes bluer then tropical Pacific waters. Yet something in those eyes told me she was no angel.
“You’re Chad Powers, private detective, right? I googled your name and address, mostly four and five-star reviews; I’m impressed.”
I got up from my desk and came around to greet her. “And you are?” I put out my paw.
She tried to smile as her fingers found my hand, “Lucy Rogers,” She said.
“Well Mrs. Rogers, what can I do for you?”
“That’s Miss Rogers, Lucy. Please call me Lucy. Someone. . . Someone is trying to kill me.”
I pointed to the chair. “Please sit down Lucy and fill me in.”
Her blue eyes showed some red I assumed from tears.
She said, “I was driving to my home in the Berkeley hills two nights ago when my car stalled and wouldn’t start. Only two blocks from my house, I decided walk. Tires screeched and a car bore down on me. Desperate, I dove behind a parked car barely escaping. The car did a three-point turn and came at me again. It veered off as I was able to move behind a big eucalyptus tree by the sidewalk and dialed 911; never so scared in all my life.”
“Fifteen minutes later the police arrived. I gave them my statement but they said ‘there was not much to go on; if you see that car again, call.’ That’s when shock hit me and I broke down and cried.”
“Do you know what type of car it was?”
“No idea, it was white and had headlights. Maybe it was one of those big old American cars. The next day, I took my car to the repair shop, they told me somebody put water in the gas tank. Mr. Powers, Do you think you can help me?"

“Sure Lucy, we’ll treat this the same way I would’ve dealt with a murder case when I was a police detective. We need to find means, motive, and opportunity. Let’s start with the basics. Who would want to hurt you?"
“I have no idea.”
“Boyfriend?”
“I guess the way I would put it is, I’m taking a break from relationships.”
“Old boyfriend?”
“Jerry? No, he is a pussycat and we’re still friends.”
I was really liking the idea of spending time with a single Miss Lucy and tracking down her assailant.
“I’m afraid this might take some time. Let’s go get some dinner and you try to think of anybody that my want to do this to you.”
At dinner she filled in some of the blanks about of her life. The 27-year-old Miss Rogers had worked for an East Bay high-tech startup but took a leave of absence to help her dad who was dying of cancer. Her mom died in a car accident two years earlier. Her younger sister had a past drug problem and was a single mom. When I brought up the sister as a suspect, Lucy totally ruled her out. “Are you kidding, my sister loves me.”
Sorry Lucy, I thought to myself your sister is the most obvious candidate. I didn’t tell her.
I knew it broke all my rules about work and play but the attraction was electric. She flirted like she might also be feeling the high voltage.
I followed her home to check out the location of the car attack and make sure she was safe. When we got to her house she was actually shaking. She said, “I’m scared; will you stay with me?”
I couldn’t say no to a damsel in distress. Suddenly she was in my arms and my rules about mixing romance and work flew out the window like a murder of crows. It sure beat a night playing poker.
In the morning I woke early. Lucy’s blue eyes were still closed. I hated to wake sleeping beauty but before I started my investigation I had to make sure this lovely lady was somewhere safe.
“Lucy rise and shine darlin’. I have work to do. Pack a bag, leave your car. I’ll take you to the train station; you need get out of town for a few days. Go to Reno, play some slots. I’d rather you gamble with money than your life.
I kept an eye on the rear view to make sure we weren’t followed to the station. On the platform, she kissed my cheek. I watched as she walked away to get on the train, hips swaying naturally. Damn, I thought, no one should look that good. Back in the car, I wiped the blood-red lipstick off my face and tried to forget last night.
Playing with a client usually meant trouble.




***

I started with the pussycat, old boyfriend Jerry. I had a hard time believing it was that easy to let Lucy go. Dead end, he was out of town during the car incident.
So I checked out the sister. Finding her house was easy enough, almost too easy these days with GPS. It used to take some work to find things, now any idiot with a smartphone can find anybody. Technology, it’s here, so I use it.
Tina Rogers had a three-bedroom rental house in south Berkeley. Not the best neighborhood but not the worst either. An older green Toyota sat in the driveway. I wasn’t planning a major stake out, just wanted to watch the place for an hour that Saturday morning. I was still reading the Chronicle sports section when Tina came out with her three-year-old son, who Lisa told me was Danny.
Tina was an okay looking young women with bleached blond hair and a cute face but she was no Lucy. I’ve seen this dynamic before--call it the young sibling syndrome. Don’t know if the shrinks actually have a name for it, when the younger sister is compared to the older and can’t quite make the grade. They just give up or rebel. You’ve seen it haven’t you? Makes me glad I was an only child.
Tina and Danny got in her car and drove away. Thought I knew where they were going, Lucy insisted that she call and tell her sister she had to go out of town. So Tina would look in on their dad at the nursing home, played a hunch and followed her anyway. Tina, entered the freeway going south towards Oakland, not the direction of the nursing home. This might get interesting.
Insurance companies pay good money to find fraud dead beats. Most private cases usually involve working for husbands cheating on their wives or wives cheating on their husbands. A camera would be more useful than a weapon, so I normally don’t take a gun,
I’ve never had a case where somebody told me that someone was trying to kill them, so I was packing my old ‘38 service revolver.
Tina exited the freeway south of downtown and pulled up to a rickety, paint peeling mess of a house in a gang infested neighborhood. My un-dented two year old red Honda stood out like a cat at a dog show and knew if I stayed here long my cover would be blown. I slowed down just enough to see an old white, bald tire, Ford, the type that I would have driven as a police detective. Could this be the assault vehicle? Rolling slowly I grabbed my camera and took a video of Tina and the four men she joined out front before they retreated into the house.
My Honda continued until I found myself in front of the downtown police station; still had friends on the force from before the lawsuit. Chuck Mills had been working a gang and drug task force; one look at the video and he laughed.
“You have some bad characters here.” He ran the plates on the Ford. It belonged to slick Andy Simmons. “Andy is a major drug dealer, including meth and heroin, his rap sheet includes assault with a deadly weapon, drug dealing and vehicular homicide.”
“Bingo, you just said the magic words, thanks.” I tried to figure out how to give Lucy the bad news about her sister.
The morning had been clear and the bright sun reflected off the bay but the summer fog was coming in. I could see it clawing at the Golden Gate Bridge as I scooted back to Berkeley.
Let’s go see how the girl’s father’s doing. I googled Thomas Rogers on my hands free device during the ride. He was a self-made millionaire in the post war plastics industry. May be that obnoxious guy at the pool party in the movie The Graduate was right. I chuckled to myself, “Plastics,” and stopped to scarf down some Pad Thai before visiting the care home.
An aide took me to see Thomas Rogers. His appearance led me to believe that the grim reaper was swinging in the on-deck circle. In spite of the danger, with her father so sick, I knew I had to get Lucy back home.
Cell phone in hand I called.
“Hello,” Lucy answered.
I filled her in on the latest developments.
She said, “My sister? No, I refuse to believe it.”
I tread carefully, “I’m just giving the facts, no opinion. I wish it were different.” In spite of myself I heard me saying, “Maybe you’re in denial?”
She said coldly, “I think not.”
“Lucy, I didn’t say that to be mean but to wake you up. Remember someone is trying to kill you.”
I could almost feel her anger through the phone. “Okay, but I need to talk to her, you can come with me. I’ll take the next plane to Oakland and call with the details.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll meet your plane.”
She took a deep sigh, “Bye.” Click.
***
Two hours later I watched her plane land in Oakland. Lucy didn’t exactly run into my arms. The purveyor of bad news often takes the blame. She did not like me fingering her sister.
The Sharks Hockey Team could have played on the ice between us. No hello, thanks for meeting me; oh well, all part of the job. I just hoped I could keep her safe.
“You didn’t call her?” I asked.
“No, but I’m trying to add up the numbers. Even if I multiply, I don’t get ten. Tina has never shown me any hostility, murder no way.”
“Okay, I’m playing it your way. Let’s go talk to her.”
As we drove to Berkeley I tried to break the icicles. “How was Reno?”
Her cold blue eyes bore into me, and notorious chilly foggy bay winds arrived on the east side of the bay. My leather jacket held no warmth. I blasted the heat in the Honda during the strangely silent drive.
When we pulled up to Tina’s house, I noticed only the Toyota. Relived, I still watched hawk—like as we closed in on the front door.
The moment I saw them together I knew I was wrong. I saw smiles then hugs. Danny came shouting, “Aunty!”
Nephew tucked in her arms, Lucy gave me a, you’re crazy look.
I shrugged my shoulders, “So I’m wrong.” I smiled at her happiness.
Still my detective nose smelled a rat and my bet, he was in this house today.
“Lucy, I’ve still got to ask Tina some questions.”
Lucy’s happiness bubble burst. “Tina,” she said, “this is Chad Powers.” She proceeded to fill her sister in.
It was time I did my detective thing. “Tina please remember your sister’s life is on the line. Do you know Andy Simmons?”
“Of course, he’s Danny’s father.”
“You know he’s arrested by the police before?”
“Well, Yeah.”
“Did you see him today?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s been arrested for manslaughter and assault with a deadly weapon.”
“You know, we haven’t been together much since Danny was born.”
I leaned in, “Does he have a white full-size Ford?"
“Yeah.”
“Why did you see him today?” I asked.
Tina squirmed in her seat. “Well he has been so nice lately. We are actually married you know. He’s been talking about getting back together.”
I looked at Lucy, her mouth dropped open in surprise and those blue eyes went from her sister to me with a knowing look.
I said, “It looks like all the cards have been dealt. We’ve found our motive. You have a very wealthy father, who is about to die. I’m sorry if I’m being insensitive, but we have more important things to worry about, like your malicious husband. Suddenly he wants you back and if he could do away with your sister–well it’s twice the money.”
Tina burst into tears. Lucy had a new look in her eyes, they almost smiled while the rest of her face wore a frown.
“He’s waiting for you out there-- for both of you,” I said, “He’s not here but he knows where both of you live. But he doesn’t know about me. That’s our ace in the hole.”
Tina, call him say you want a divorce and tell him you will be staying with your sister. Lucy, we’ll switch cars and today you park on the street and tonight I’ll park in your drive. My bet--he’ll make his move tonight and I’ll be waiting when he breaks in.” I’ll be there before dark, I just want to check on some things.”
“What if he comes during the day?” Lucy asked.
“I don’t think he would take that chance, but do you have a gun?”
“No, I’ve never felt comfortable having one in the house.”
“Take mine just in case he shows up. But don’t get trigger happy and shoot him. Just hold him and call me.”

As I made the last turn to Lucy’s house, I saw the white Ford on the street. Andy got there before me—damn it! Just then—POW! I heard a gunshot. I beelined to open the front door and flew in gun in hand. Lucy stood there with my ‘38 pointed at me and a wicked smile on her face.
“Drop it, she demanded.”
I tossed my gun down on the blood stained oriental rug, where Andy lay, hole in the chest, river of red pouring out.
“Thank you for the use of your gun. I will make it look like he broke in, you shot him and he plugged you. That’s one less person I have to worry about getting my father’s money. And Mr. Powers, as much as I enjoyed your…a...company…it will get rid of you, too—the only witness.”
“What about your sister?” I asked.
“That druggy. I convinced her it would be a good idea to have a drink or two. The worthless bitch is passed out upstairs. So much for her two years clean.” She laughed. “I can inject an overdose later.”
I shook my head. “And your nephew?”
“He’s at the baby sitter’s. Don’t you think he’ll look good in a military school uniform? Now it’s time to say goodbye, Chad.”
It was my turn to smile. “Joe, the front door’s open.”
Three policeman appeared guns drawn.
“Put the weapon down!” The Sargent demanded.
“Lucy, do you know what night it is? It’s Friday, my poker night. It appears I have a stronger hand, three of a kind beats a queen of hearts even with your ace in the hole. Your hand is busted.”
“Here is her confession, Joe” I took my phone from my pocket.
“You never read me my rights.” Lucy said.
“I don’t have to read you any rights my dear, I’m a P.I. Not a cop anymore.”
“What…how…did you know?” The lady stammered.
“Two tells that gave your hand away, once when I noticed
your eyes smile at Tina’s despair. The second, when you said you
didn’t have a gun in your house. The night I stayed over I noticed
a rifle in your bedroom closet.
I ran your record at the station. It seems you shot an old boyfriend and got off for self-defense.”
“Joe,” I said to my card playing buddy, “read the lady her rights and be careful. She plays a killer game of poker and cheats when no one’s looking.”
I was careful driving down the hill with its dangerous curves and the cold bay fog blowing in. I felt a chill. Was it the fog or remembering Lucy’s icy blue eyes?
She was the kind of girl that made my Uncle Sidney say to me, “Dames; you can’t live with ‘em and you’re not allowed to shoot ‘em.” I sighed, shook my head and turned up the heat.

December 31, 2017
I know it's cold back East so remember, when Mother Nature throws snow, make the best of it!
WE WENT SKIING
On a Thursday in 1989 BC (Before Colleen), the weather reports were predicting a large but fast moving winter storm due to attack the Sierra overnight, leaving a perfect ski weekend. I called Rick, a dentist and ski buddy, proposing that I could cut school and call in sick on Friday so we could leave immediately and beat the storm up the mountains. I almost never took a sick day, but with the promise of a great ski weekend, I felt a flu coming on. Rick agreed and we took off up the hill to Truckee.
It snowed all Thursday night and we woke the sight of fresh powder on the ground outside the cabin and more would be awaiting at Squaw Valley. We popped the skis into the rack on my car roof an away we went, Stones tape blasting out of the car’s speakers. The road appeared clear but maybe Karma was hiding ahead laying a black ice trap under a group of trees for cutting school. Or it might have just been bad luck as my car turned into a toboggan sliding sideways. I turned into the skid but that did not help.
The Ford hatchback hit the ditch at the side of the road and rolled over 360 degrees. Somehow that morning, Rick forgot to click his seat belt. His body flew like an Olympic ski jumper, smashing out of the back bubble window. He landed on his butt, with snow and glass sparkling in the morning sunshine. The car engine had died but Stones tape ironically still played Give Me Shelter.
I crawled out of the wreckage moving towards Rick and asked, “Are you all right?”
He took a quick inventory, looked himself over, held up his cold naked hand and stated in shock, “I cut my pinky!”
We laughed and laughed in shock, hysterically and couldn’t stop until tears rolled flowed from our eyes.
“I cut my pinky,” I mocked my friend and we both laughed some more.
We took care of business, called AAA, had the car towed, rented new wheels.
THEN, OF COURSE, WE WENT SKIING!

A DOUBLE AGENT
November 13, 2017
Nathaniel R. Winters

Veteran’s day now over and gone.
I must admit I get a little nervous,
when people thank me for my service.
It’s hard to get beyond my part of Vietnam.
I have to say I feel some guilt—about
serving in a war that was built—on lies.
Just how do I respond?
Thought I was done when I left the ship.
Didn’t know Agent Orange would later awake,
some forty years later to make me shake.
Appears my body and conscience won’t let me—
give that war the slip.

Nathaniel R. Winters November 2017
Fires in the Redwood Empire
are as natural as fog on S.F. Bay.
Pacific high pressure plants
over Nor-Cal sending storms away,
causing summer drought.
Vegetation dries out
just waiting for a spark.
Flames explode burning
dry grasses and low timber.
Redwoods, evolved in this clime,
with thick smoldering bark
and green needle crowns
in the heavens above fiery hells,
survive and turn fog into raindrops
quenching big trees thirst.
Autumn comes and high pressure
moves south for the winter
like snowbirds to Florida.
Rain returns, redwood cones
opened by summer inferno
drop seeds, baby redwoods
grow in the ashes.
Brown and scarred black hills,
magically turn green.
Deer prance and mountain lions stroll
coyotes howl, life goes on….

This morning as Rue and I walked the mile on the trail through vineyards from the library to the bone dry Napa River, I realized just how lucky we were. Smokey haze had been replaced with clean air for the first since the Sunday night our fiery ordeal started. Overnight light moist ocean breezes blew the bad air out of the valley. Puffy cumulus clouds dotted the blue sunshiny sky. Up north over Mount St Helena darker cirrus clouds promised rain. The town of St Helena appears to have been spared.
In the mitts of all the devastation I want to share two happy stories. Last Tuesday when Colleen, our friend Mary, Rue and I evacuated to San Francisco we stopped for lunch on Clement St. still weighing our options as to which friends or family to impose ourselves on. I took Rue out for a walk when I came upon a couple embraced in a kiss. I asked, “Excuse me, do you two know each other?”
The lady laughingly said, “Yeah I think so.”
That started a conversation where I explained we came down from the fire. They left wishing me luck. A few minutes later the women came back and gave me her number and invited us to stay at their unoccupied apartment in Berkeley. While I told her we had other options, I was taken aback by their generosity.
Last night we went out to dinner at “Market” in downtown St Helena. A large group of tables in the back were filled with fire fighters that the restaurant had been feeding all week. This was their last night; they were headed home in the morning after ten days of twelve hour shifts. As they stood to leave the patrons gave them a standing ovation. They and the other firemen and firewomen saved our town.
There was a sign on the door that said, “The love is thicker then the smoke.” Indeed.