Happy New Year – 2023

Happy New Year!

What a year it’s been! A lot has happened and I’m going to touch on the highlights of 2022.

I’ve been writing this blog for over 6 years now. 2022 has been a great year with many changes. The pandemic rolled on and as more people got vaccinated it began to slow down. I was laid off from my hospitality job back in March 2020 and was unemployed for a year and a half. Normally that would sound sad but it was a spectacular and creative time for me and my daughter.

For a whole year and a half, we weren’t slaves to horrible jobs. We both vowed that when things returned we’d never work in the hospitality industry again. The one thing people love in this city is going out to dinner and drinking. But working in that industry is the absolute worst place for anyone to be as a vocation. It not only attracts the worst people and those who lack the skills to do anything else, but the hours also suck, and the clientele is impaired.

Just awful.

But I’m glad we both did it because we knew what we never wanted to do again, and it gave us the means to file for unemployment and collect on the government’s dime for a year and a half.

It was like getting a grant to create and make music for over a year. If you leave artists alone, they’ll have the time and money to simply work on their art.

During that time my daughter composed and produced an EP of original songs and put them out on YouTube and Soundcloud. I continued writing and publishing my blog but didn’t have any new stories for content. So I decided to turn inward and write stories from my young life growing up in Philly and my summers in Wildwood.

They were all wildly successful. I dropped the links into groups on Facebook that liked that sort of nostalgic content and the members loved them. It brought me a lot of fresh content and traffic. The best part of it for me was reconnecting with people from my past and realizing what my next two books would be about.

2022 saw the release of my fifth work of non-fiction, LAWNDALE, a collection of stories from my childhood growing up in Northeast Philadelphia. It continues to have brisk sales on Amazon.

I had the honor of being a guest on Tom Krantz’s podcast, Type. Tune. Tint. It was a great experience and helped promote my book. You can check it out here.

Regarding numbers on the blog, we’ve had another good year. We hit over 380,000 page views since the blog’s inception.

Here are some of the 2022 YTD data:

Page Views: 55,000

Visitors: 44,000

Subscribers: 2,400

I’m really happy with how much the blog has grown organically since I started it with just one post back in the Fall of 2016. I appreciate everyone who reads, likes, comments and subscribes to Phicklephilly.

Phicklephilly began as a place for me to tell my stories about dates I went on, past and present girlfriends, and friends. I later added dating and relationship advice which was popular and brought me tons of traffic. I had grown tired of it all back in 2020 and wanted to stop doing the dating and relationship advice because it just became too hard to generate and maintain. But I kept it going because people liked it and it brought me traffic. But back in 2016, I prophecized that there would come a day when Phicklephilly would become nothing more than stories from my life and nothing more. I’m at a point with this blog where I’m writing for myself.

After doing it for 6 years and cranking out 7 published books I’m hungry to create something of real value. But I don’t want it to publish every day. It’s too much work and not my ultimate vision for this blog. I make a nice living now doing freelance commercial writing for companies across the country. It’s a challenge to create and the money is decent. I love the idea of making a living doing something I created rather than working in some job with a bunch of no-talent mooks. (which was my life in corporate America for the last 30 years)

I went from working in sales in my professional life to a guy who makes his living writing. I love to create. Nothing brings me more joy than making something and publishing it.

Starting back in January of 2022 Phicklephilly no longer provided any dating and relationship advice. I’ve been doing it for over 3 years and I’m tired of it. I feel like I’ve covered every aspect of it and it no longer interests me. People can still read all of that stuff because it will live in the archives on this blog forever. My traffic for the site is still solid despite the changes made last year and the lack of new content.

I only publish once a week. I put out something new and different every Tuesday. There will be no notice and each piece will stand on its own. Think of the quote from Forrest Gump: “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never what you’re going to get.” That’s what Phicklephilly has become. Every Tuesday you get a new story but it will only be about things I want to write about or stuff I did.

I like the idea of the absolute freedom to create the stories I want to tell. But fear not… these are all interesting little stories about cool topics. I’m finally making the blog I want to make with no interest in page views, likes, revenue, or stats. Will I cash all the checks I receive from WordPress and Google for the ads I allow them to run on my site? Of course, I will. Why not? I provided all of this content and this ad revenue helps support the site. But it will no longer drive why I generate content. I’d rather write something heartfelt and meaningful than just crank out dating and relationship advice.

I’m getting older now. (60!) I don’t work in corporate America anymore. I’m so glad I left the rat race behind. I don’t go to happy hour anymore. I eat better and rarely drink alcohol. Going out to bars and burning money with a bunch of drunks seems like a waste of time. I haven’t been on a dating app in over two years. I just don’t care. Those sites are all filled with leftovers and losers anyway. Sad lonely people looking to replicate the love of their lives that’s long gone and can never be reproduced.

I’m glad I lived all of these adventures and don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a great time in this city. But it’s over. I’m done. There’s absolutely nothing I can learn from hanging out or dating young women. Other than their youth and beauty, they bring nothing to the table. Let the young people find their way with each other. I don’t belong out there anymore. To me, it’s just boring.

Don’t get me wrong, It’s been a great year. I will write about all of the adventures I’ve had in 2022. They’re stories best told in the coming year. I assure you, they will be interesting.

However, Tales of Rock will live on in 2023. It will happen when I think of something interesting and then write a piece about it and drop it on a Tuesday. That’s it.

I’m looking forward to how the blog will evolve and change as time goes by. I continue to evolve so why not my work? You should always be evolving throughout your life. If you’re not, you’re stagnant. I’m happy that I’m always growing and changing, even at this point in my life. There’s always new cool stuff to do and experience, and I want to share those stories with you.

I’m grateful to everyone who has taken the time to read Phicklephilly and bought my latest books over the years, but the best is yet to come!

I hope to publish my 8th book, Down The Shore around Memorial Day this year. This will be a book about my life in Wildwood during the 70s.

Health and Happiness to all in the coming year!

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. 

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Here’s the wrap-up from Tom’s podcast.

Holiday Odyssey – Part 6

This series is a review of last year’s holiday season

Hollywood Happy Hour – December 21st, 2021

I get a text from James (talent agency friend) that the only night we can hang out before Christmas and exchange presents and have cocktails is tonight, so I’m down. I’m off on Tuesday, so tonight is perfect. I’m still riding the happy wave from seeing my family and recently getting a raise.

I work my shift at the store and then head home at 6 pm. I clean up and change into my usual cocktail character/nightlife guy. I head up to AKA Bar at the corner of 18th and Walnut at the edge of Rittenhouse Square Park.

I arrive and he’s already there sitting at a table by the window with a pile of wrapped presents. I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed because he’s so hard to buy for and so far I’ve only received in the mail one of the many gifts I got him this year. I left it at home because when we meet up we end up back at my house near the end of the night.

I’ve been sober with this new lifestyle for over 80 days, but it’s the holidays and I want to share some delicious well-crafted cocktails with my friend tonight. I’ll partake but also drink plenty of water.

I’m happy to have some one-on-one time with him after only seeing him briefly at his massive party aboard the Moshulu last week. We discuss the party, the people, and what the party could look like next year. He tells me he’s going on a cruise in about a week for his 35th birthday, and I think that’s great.

He sort of broke up with his girlfriend of 8 years last summer but they never really broke up. I would say they just took a break or something. They’re still together but she no longer lives with him. To me, it’s just extending the inevitable. They either break up for real and end it and maybe remain friends if that’s possible, or they decide to throw in the towel and just get married. I’m sure that’s what she wants but at this point, James doesn’t have any idea what he wants. It’s none of my business and I’m just happy to have him in my life. He’s a very successful businessman and his talent company hasn’t suffered through any changes in his personal life, so more power to him. He’ll figure it out.

The cocktails are great and the ones I pick are sumptuous. The secret to enjoying vice is to only partake in it in very small doses on rare occasions. You just enjoy it more. It’s so easy to want to have a drink at the end of every day but it quickly loses its luster. The key is moderation. All the things you love should be treats, not a daily obsession.

The place is quiet and we get a chance to talk. While we’re there, I get an email from my editor. I go to the bathroom to hit my vape and read the email. She asks me if I want a quick and dirty post that was due in 2 days. 1000 words, $100. It’s been a super lean month, so of course, I jump at the opportunity. That’s a huge positive.

We close out our tab and James insists on paying. “Company card, a business expense,” he says.

I’m getting hooked up this year. Everyone’s been so good to me. We decided we’d like to stay out a bit longer and need to get something to eat. I suggest Cavanaugh’s over on Sansom because the food’s good and they stay open until all hours of the night. A lot of the nicer restaurants close early these days but not the sports bars. They’re back to staying open until 2 am every night. I feel for the people who can still live and work in jobs like this. It’s a grinding profession.

We get there and it’s not too crowded. It’s Monday night, but Cavs is always a good time. I’m hungry, it’s the holiday, and I’m with my dear friend so all bets are off regarding my diet. This will be a rare treat. James orders the french dip and I go with buffalo chicken nuggets and fries. This is glorious. I haven’t had a french fry since July. The food is amazing, (probably average but I can’t tell!) and we’re having a good time. I’m sipping a whiskey club and he’s enjoying an IPA. After an hour or so we decide to head back to my place.

We get there and James chats with my daughter for a bit and then we head back into my room. I always have a little chair and table set up for him so he can sit, have a drink, and have a snack. It’s time to break out the presents. I think next year we need to cut this back. It’s just too much. I’m going to tell him I’m going to change it to only one gift next year. It’s too hard to shop for everybody and it’s a lot of money going out on stuff. But I’m pleased with what he got me.

He got me these cute little fridge magnets that look like mini VHS boxes for movies. Adorable! He also got me this whiskey system where you have different flavored wood chips you burn and then place a glass over it until it goes out and then pour the booze into the glass, and it gives it a smokey flavor. Cool, but I don’t know when I’ll ever use it. Another cool thing he gave me this year was a unique candle. He knows I like candles, so he came up with something I never expected.

How amazing is that? A candle that when burned will recreate the smell of going to the local Blockbuster with my daughter on a Friday night to get some movies for the weekend! I can’t even believe someone came up with this idea for a candle, but why not? I can’t wait to burn this little guy!

He also got me this nice bottle of rye! I don’t drink that much anymore but I’ll add it to the collection for sure!

I hope the gifts I got him are up to snuff like these amazing presents. But this is too much and too nice for me. We need to scale it back next year… big time! But I’m very grateful!

I hope he likes the stuff I got him. His birthday is also coming up any day now so it looks like it’s going to be a Xmas/birthday when I see him next time. He says he’s going away on a cruise soon, and won’t be back for a while but with the recent surge in omicron, I fear his cruise will be canceled.

We stayed up late chatting, and the time always flies by when I’m with James because our conversations are lively. He’s a great friend and I love spending time with him. Around 2 am he calls for a Lyft and off he goes. I hope I see him sooner than later in the new year!

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly.

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Holiday Odyssey – Part 5

This series is a review of last year’s holiday season

Family Party – December 18th, 2021

My daughter offered to drive me to my sister’s house for the annual holiday party. They have it every year and it’s always a lovely affair where I get to see what’s left of my family. I consider this party to be my Christmas day. It’s about family, food, fun, and just us being together, and it’s as close as I can get to how Christmas felt as a kid.

But if I let my lovely daughter and her boyfriend drive me down there I’ll lose control of the situation. I’m stuck to their schedule and they’re stuck with me. Like my father, I like to be on my schedule and run the whole program myself and not be beholden to anyone else. It’s the best way to do things.  I don’t want to have to wait for them to get themselves together, sit in the back of the car, wait while they make stops, get coffee, get lost, and be late. I’m not about any of those things. So I decline.

I get up early, shower, cook my breakfast, get dressed in my holiday finery, and head over to 30th street station on foot. It’s a warm cloudy day and I always enjoy a nice walk through the city.

I get there on my own time and get a chance to relax and wait in the massive terminal. The place isn’t too busy and the trains are all running on schedule. They always have an enormous Christmas tree decorated in the station and it looks lovely.

My train pulls into the terminal and I head down the stairs to the platform and board it. I find a nice quiet seat by myself and look out the window. The trip will take about an hour and a half from 30th street in Philly to the Absecon station down in South Jersey.

Normally my niece comes to the station and picks me up and takes me to the party, but this year I’ve made arrangements with my youngest sister to come and pick me up. I love this idea. We’ve been keeping in touch over the last year and have grown closer. I’m happy that she’s coming to get me because it’ll give us a chance to chat a bit before we get there.

I thought I might just listen to Christmas music on the train ride down, but I’ve heard all of those songs so many times I just can’t anymore. I decided to open my Netflix app and watch a few episodes of Seinfeld to pass the time. It worked! It’s a fast-paced, fun show and after about 3 episodes I was pulling into the Absecon station.

Of course, my sister is there in her Mercedes waiting for me as I disembark the train. I hop in her car and off we go. She tells me we have to make a stop and pick up a big tray of soft pretzel nuggets for the party. I’m fine with any part of this mission. We pull up and I hop out and put my mask on. I go in and give the nice lady the information and she hands me the tray. I charm her a bit and she tosses me a candy cane-shaped pretzel to munch in the car before the party. I thought that was sweet.

We get to the party and see the rest of my family. It’s always a joy. Two of my cousins arrive and I love seeing them as always. Last year we couldn’t have the party due to the pandemic but this year we’re all back. It’s been too long. The food is always the same and I love that kind of consistency. Hot roast beef and meatball sandwiches, little deli hoagies, tons of snacks, and delicious cookies abound. I sip club soda and make the rounds. It’s glorious. The time goes so fast. I love chatting with everyone and seeing how they’re all doing in their lives. Plus, my sisters always send me home with lots of goodies.

I’ve been on this lifestyle diet for over 5 months now but during the two weeks at Christmas and New Year, all bets are off. I don’t gorge myself on treats, but I will partake and get back into my disciplined lifestyle after the new year.

The party started at noon and runs until about 5 pm when people start to head out. My daughter and her boyfriend arrived around 2 pm. two hours late! Thank goodness I didn’t go with them!

The time flies by through the afternoon and it’s time to go. So I grab a bag of cookies, which consist of homemade chocolate chips and sugar cookies that my middle sister bakes every year. I’ll ration these amazing treats over the next few months and probably be still eating them as a rare snack through March. No one can believe that I can make treats last so long. Discipline, baby!

My little sister drives me to the train station and I wait for the train. I can see that she’s waiting in the parking lot to see that I get on okay, which I like. The train roars into the station as a light rain begins to fall. I board, and off I go. Back to episodes of Seinfeld to pass the time and I’m back in 30th street station before I know it. It’s not a cold day so I’m comfortable walking home to my house. I pack away my cookies to keep them fresh and pour myself 2 ounces of whiskey and reflect on my lovely day with my incredible family.

Holiday Surprises Abound – December 20, 2021

The writing assignments have been incredibly light for December. Normally they’ve been averaging around $800 a month. But at this point, I’m only at $80 which is my lowest month ever. I could use the money around Christmas but I’m not going to worry about it. I’m fine financially and have liquid funds I can pull from if necessary. I did have some concerns this month… Taking the 18th off to see my family, and losing Christmas day and New Year’s Day. That’s 3 days of no work and lost income. That’s a bit of a hit. Losing three days of income and only earning $80 in writing money was giving me some stress this holiday season. But I knew I’d be alright, and told myself not to worry about it.

I go to work on Monday and the minute I walk into the store the general manager tells me the owner is downstairs and wants to see me. I’m like… uh oh. what’s up now? I head downstairs to his office.

He’s sitting there and I take a seat. The conversation went something like this.

Him: “I know you’re normally off on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but Adam is off these next 2 weeks. Can you work the next two Thursdays to help cover his hours?”

Me: “Sure. I’d be happy to. That makes up for the hours I’ll lose on Christmas and New Year’s.”

Him: “Great. Oh, and I’m paying you for Christmas and New Year even though we’re closed.”

Me: “Oh really? Awesome. Thank you!”

Him: “You took the 18th off to go see your family right?”

Me: “Yes. I put it on the calendar and cleared it with the GM.”

Him: “I know. I’ve decided to pay you for that day too.”

Me: “Really? Thank you so much. This is great!”

Him: “Well, you’ve been here for 5 months now and you’re doing a great job. I appreciate that and I believe in investing in this place and the people who work here.”

Me: “I think that’s great, sir. I’m really happy here.”

Him: “I’m giving you a raise. It won’t be effective until the second pay period in January. Is that okay?”

Me: “That’s perfectly fine sir. Thank you!” (It was a substantial raise and I won’t have to rely too heavily on the writing stuff to meet my monthly obligations)

This is great news. Things are going well right now. I work part-time at a job that’s only a block and a half away from my house and now I’m getting a fat raise. I nearly skipped back upstairs and to the front of the store. Things are looking good for 2022!

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly.

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Holiday Odyssey – Part 4

This series is a review of last year’s holiday season

Moshulu party December 16th, 2021

Two days later my friend James, who owns the modeling and talent agency was having his annual holiday party at the Moshulu down on the waterfront. He wasn’t able to have it in 2020 for obvious reasons. But the day was upon us and I invited a bunch of people. This is a lovely event. You’re on the deck of a huge ship, they’ve enclosed it so it’s nice and warm despite the temperatures outside, it’s attended by dozens of hot actresses and models and it’s an open bar for 5 hours.

I’ve gone every year he’s held the party. It’s always been a good time and my daughter attended a few years ago. She didn’t want to go this year due to covid concerns. But I invited the usual cast of characters from my past here in center city. I was going to walk down there from my house which would have been 2 miles because it was an unseasonably warm evening. But I had worked at the store that day and figured it would be easier if I hopped in a Lyft.

There’s never any food at the event and they never check to see if you’ve bought a ticket or if anybody is vaccinated. A little concerning, but we’ll hope for the best. I cooked my dinner, dined at home like any other night, and then suited up and headed down. I knew I wasn’t going to be plowing cocktails into myself because I just don’t do that anymore, and I had to work the next day.

As I arrive in the Lyft I can see that there’s another party already there but they’re all exiting the boat to make way for the next event. My first thought was, “what happened? is it canceled already due to the recent surge of the omicron, or are they being thrown out for some other reason?” But it was just some other company’s holiday party wrapping up.

I move through the crowd wearing my mask and walk up the gangplank to enter the ship carrying my $20 unwrapped toy for some underprivileged child. The minute I tell the staff I’m here for the party a lady hands me a plastic cup of champagne and tells me to head upstairs.

I reach the top of the stairs and walk down a narrow hallway. I’m met by a gentleman who collects the gifts. I’m happy to hand the bag off to him and he takes it into a secure room. It seemed a bit off at first because the last time I was at this party all the gifts were out on a table where you could see them. But I later found out the reason they didn’t do that this year was because two years ago at the last Mosulu party, somebody stole some presents. Can you imagine that? What kind of scumbag steals Christmas presents meant for underprivileged children? But I try not to think about that to keep my mood positive.

The deck’s open because the weather’s been kind this evening. This is great because the year I went with my daughter back in 2018, it was cold out. Brutally cold. But here I was standing at the bar sipping a little pinot grigio packed with ice in a plastic cup.

I start chatting with a young guy who’s an actor. We’re talking and it comes up that I’m a writer and he says he’s written a screenplay. I ask him to tell me what it was about. From what he told me it’s a mix between Hot Tub Time Machine and Back to the Future. It sounds like a fun idea for a comedy but a bit of a retread, and I don’t think he’s thought through all of the details of the story. But he’s fun to talk to and it’s nice to be out at a holiday event. Some of his friends show up and I meet them, but I eventually move off because I’m bored.

I meet up with my friend James and he’s looking dapper as always. I never hang out with him at this party because he’s the CEO and is so busy hosting I don’t want to steal his time from others. I can hang out with him whenever I want. I get another glass of wine and head over to the bar. There is always a large group of people who go to events and then just park themselves at the bar. I mean… every time. Rather than get your free drink, tip the staff and move away so other people can order, they just clog the whole area like human cholesterol. So I move over to the side of the bar which is free of people and I can sip my wine and assess the situation.

I see James’ on-again-off-again girlfriend but she doesn’t see me. I also see her hot sister who I kind of love in a Phicklephilly way but decide to just hang over here and chill. To my left appears a smoking hot, raven-haired Ukrainian woman. Of course, we begin to chat because whenever I’m at these parties I always run the program.

I learn that she’s a photographer and loves art. She travels all of the time and I wonder how she affords that. We discuss photography, the industry, and art for a while but I find myself getting a little bored.

No one I know has arrived yet or maybe they’re not going to show due to the recent surge in the virus. Probably a smart move. I wonder about it as I head to the back of the room occasionally to hit my vape. The crowd seems a bit light this year.

I get a text from my friend Alice and she asks if it’s still on. I tell her that it is. She tells me she’s heading down. Well, at least there will be one person I know here. I’ve run into her a few times in the last 6 months so I figured I’d invite her even though it was radio silence from her for the last year and a half during the pandemic.

I realized that many of the pretty people I hung out with over the period from 2012 to 2019 weren’t really my friends, they were simply happy hour buddies. Once all the fun events, free drinks, and snacks dried up they scattered like dried leaves on an autumn day.

Alice is a sweet girl who loves her grandpop, her nephew, her mom, and going to church. I met her when she was 22 when she got me the gig at the happy hour website and now she’s 30 years old. So we have some history. She’s a good person with a good heart who’s driven to succeed and build her business. She hadn’t found love in her 20s but it’ll probably happen in her 30s. I know she’s no stranger to dating but hasn’t been able to land and keep a man.

A little time goes by and she texts me again to say that she’s arrived. Now, this party is filled with beautiful people. Actors, models, and industry people. It’s a glamorous event. Everybody looks sharp and it’s a fun party. I think of Alice as a conservative church-going lady, but I’m sure she’ll know that it’s a formal event and she’ll wear something nice.

She appears and begins to approach me. I see a nice red blazer and matching slacks. seems holiday and party appropriate. But then I realize something else I wasn’t expecting.

Yea… she has no bra or even a blouse of any kind on.

I know Alice is always late to everything which confounds my mind but was she in such a hurry to get to the event tonight that she forgot to put on a shirt?

I’m kidding, but it was a bold move on her part. No one at the party was dressed like this. Of course, it garnered her a huge amount of attention from men and women but it was all in good fun. It was nice to see her and fun to hang with her after all of this time.

I vowed that I would only stay until 11 pm, but I ended up staying a bit later. I think Alice ended up hanging out with a guy who she already knew that was at the party. He looked like Clark Kent. I didn’t care. I was just there to see my friend and have a few free wines and get some photos.

I had an okay time but sadly most of the people I invited stayed away that night. I feel like the party has become a bit much for James, and he said he may just do 2 smaller parties next year. One in NYC and one in Philly and be done with it. I think it’s just become too costly and overblown as an event. Plus, attendance was way down this year.

I got home safely and was fine to work the next day because I ate before the event and took it easy on the wine all night. I knew I would be fine because I just don’t party like I used to. I’m getting too old for any of this nonsense anyway. I know I shouldn’t be like Ebenezer talking like this, but I probably don’t belong to these sorts of things anymore. It all just seems like a super spreader event anyway.

But the holidays are still rolling forward and I’ll be at my next event in a couple of days.

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly.

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Holiday Odyssey – Part 3

This series is a review of last year’s holiday season.

Meeting with the editor on December 14, 2021

Two weeks later I scheduled a meeting with my editor. I wanted to see her face to face and discuss the freelance writing business and what the plan was going forward for the next year. I know she’s really busy most of the time and I can only get a hold of her through email and a little bit through text. She never takes my calls anymore. I find that frustrating and annoying, but I think she probably assumes if she gets on the phone with me we’ll spend too much time chatting. I don’t care because at least I’m getting work and making money for writing all of these little articles for these companies that she gets.

I’ve been doing this since May of 2021 and it’s been lucrative for me. But I kind of expected the business to grow and at this point, it hasn’t. I’m not worried because doing all of these little articles isn’t my passion. It’s just free money for something I’m good at that has nothing to do with my creative spirit. Like the poet, Robert Graves once said, “I raise dogs to feed my cats”. These freelance writing assignments are just cash to fill in the gaps so I can meet my obligations.

We wanted to get together before the end of the year to wrap things up on a successful partnership thus far. Normally she always came down into the city for happy hour and we would chat over drinks and food. I always told her I would be happy to come to her neck of the woods and she finally took me up on my offer.

So one day I walked over to Suburban Station and boarded the West Trenton line up to Jenkintown. She said she’d pick me up in her car and take us to a restaurant in the area for a late snappy lunch. I was happy to oblige. It was December, my day off and I was looking forward to stepping away from my quiet solitary life and going someplace new. I love taking the train because it’s so easy and there’s never any stress. No traffic, no-nonsense. Just hop on and off, and you’re at your destination.

I get off the train at the Jenkintown stop and wait out the front of the station. In a little while, she rolls up in her car and picks me up. We go to a local chain restaurant called Bernie’s. The place was like all of the other places like it. American cuisine with lots of space and flat-screen TVs for sports. It was 3 pm so the place was quiet and we could relax by their enormous gas fireplace. She’s vegan so she got a vegan cheesesteak and fries, and of course, because of my lifestyle, I went with the chicken salad and water. I love being this way now. 20 pounds lighter and feeling fit. My 33-waist jeans are so loose I have to wear a belt with them now. She’s very happy with my recent transformation and so am I. This is how I should have been living for the last 10 years but… I was having too much fun.

We review any business at hand and I get all of my questions answered so for the sake of entertainment I’ll spare you the details. She’s going to give me as much work as possible and her goal for me is to at least get me to $2000 a month in writing revenue. I hadn’t told her about my gig at the hardware store until this meeting only because I was afraid that if she knew I had a job she may not give me as much work. I want everything she offers me. But in reality, this notion was something I created in my head and I’m sure she would never do that to me.

She was happy for me and told me that nothing would change in the level of projects offered to me and that we were fine. I think that’s all I needed to hear. To be honest with you all, I like working at the hardware store. The guys are great and so are the owner and management. It’s an easy job a block and a half from my house. If I could make enough working there and maybe do less writing for these corporations I’d be fine with it. I like writing my blog and my books. I’m a creative person and writing articles for companies about whatever they want is a bit boring. It seems like a lot of work for not a ton of money. But I’m not complaining. But I’ve realized now that I’ve been doing it for a while it’s just a thing to fill in the blanks for a while.

It would be like if I had my band and played hard rock and I loved it, and then had to play a few nights a week backing up Celine Dion to put food on the table. Doing freelance commercial writing is sort of like that. You love rocking out and writing your stuff even if it doesn’t bring in enough money, but you do the other to pay the bills. So we’ll have to see how all of this plays out this year.

I got her a gift and a shirt from the hardware store. She was surprised and said, “Aww… the first Christmas gift of the season.” I thought that was sweet and I’m glad I got to be the one to do that. She pushed a greeting card across the table and I opened the envelope. It was a holiday card with the words, “Thanks for all of your hard work!” on it and a $50 gift card. I was very pleased. I’ll probably spend it on a nice pair of 32-waist jeans! I was very grateful!

I’m so glad this meeting went well. For some reason, I never feel good enough to be doing what I’m doing for her. I guess I always supposed that to be a commercial writer you had to have a degree in journalism or English or something. But that simply isn’t true. I’ve written over a hundred articles for her in the short time I’ve been doing this. I must be doing something right if I’ve done that many, been paid, and have had no complaints from any of our clients. But I guess sometimes my imagination and self-confidence get the best of me. She always tells me I’m doing a great job. I probably wouldn’t have lasted this long if I hadn’t been.

I offer but she insists on paying the bill saying that it’s a company expense. I guess she writes all of these sorts of things on her taxes. I’m fine with that!

We chat some more and she asks me if I’d like to join her at the Willow Grove Mall for a little Christmas shopping. I haven’t set foot in a mall since I lived in South Jersey 0ver 15 years ago. I love this idea. It’ll be fun and help get me into the holiday spirit. It’s dark by now, so we drive over and park in the lot. I’ve never been to this mall so I don’t know what to expect.

It’s less than two weeks until Christmas, but the place is kind of deserted. Have many people moved on to doing all of their shopping online? It’s not a giant mall, but it does have a couple of good anchor stores, but the place seems kind of dead. Santa was there all roped off in his little area, but even he seemed bored and underwhelmed.

She tells me she has to pick up a white dress shirt and tie of a very specific size for her fiancee. I’m not into clothes shopping but I’m a master of hunting things down, so I’m up for the challenge. I also realize this little foray at the mall is a good opportunity for me to pick up a $20 unwrapped gift for a child for charity at an event I’m attending on Thursday. So this works out well.

We wander from store to store and finally find the right shirt and tie. He needs it because they’re attending a party on the same day as my Thursday event. I had invited them but this is why they can’t go. I think she told me it’s a client of hers and she’s got to make an appearance.

I find the appropriate toy for the charity and we’re off. It’s been a somewhat anticlimactic visit to a mall after 15 years but fun to hang with my editor for the afternoon and evening.

She drives me back to the train station, and as she’d pulling up the train roars into the station. I leap from the car and run over to the conductor to see if this is my train back to civilization. He confirms I board, and I’m off!

More next Tuesday!

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly.

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Holiday Odyssey – Part 2

This series is a review of last year’s holiday season.

Holiday Odyssey – December 2021

I figured with covid and everything else going on the holidays would be quiet and uneventful this year. But they’ve been action-packed. I’m going to do my best to document what I’ve been doing for the last few weeks leading up to Christmas and the new year.

I’ve been at the hardware store for a while now, and things are going well. When I was hired they told me that I’d be getting more hours because they had a couple of people who were leaving, so that eventually happened. One of the guys I liked got married and was moving to Costa Rica for the winter and then settling in North Carolina. He sold his house in Fishtown and was getting rid of lots of furniture. I was happily the benefactor of his shifts and a 43″ TV set. I don’t need it, but I thought my daughter could use it when she gets her apartment. (Which may happen in 2023) I thought that it was nice of him to hook me up and I bought him a bottle of 12-year-old Tullamore Dew Irish whiskey. He was very pleased.

We sort of kicked off the holiday season with a little going away party for him down at a bar south of the store called Grace Tavern. He had met his wife there many years ago so it seemed a fitting spot. I’d been there before and know the place is known for its cool neighborhood vibe and good reasonably-priced burgers. Everybody seemed to have a good time. Beers were drunk and shots were taken.

Santa’s elves

A few days later, a nice lady came in and was getting some things for her local contracting business, and we were chatting. Somehow we got on the subject of music and she told me she was from Nashville and played guitar. I told her I played and we hit it off. I figured it was just a friendly exchange with a client and nothing more. But she did say that if I ever wanted to jam she’d be down for that. I sort of made a mental note and let it go.

The holidays are rapidly approaching and I’ll be seeing my family. I decide to book an appointment to get my hair cut so I look fresh and appealing to my relatives. I’ve been going to the same hair salon for probably seven or eight years now. Maybe it’s been longer. The first time I went there was to meet up with my then-friend Johnny R. I never understood why he got his hair cut there because he lives up in Mayfair and that’s in Northeast Philly. Why come down here to center city to get your haircut? But who knows why he did anything he did. I mean, he was a guy who drank, smoked cigarettes, gambled, did coke, tried meth, took Adderall, and blew thousands of dollars on strippers and hookers.

That sort of vice in another person at one time seemed funny and exciting but now seems pathetic and weak. I cut him off in 2021 after growing tired of his drunken antics and failures. Just a miserable, bitter drunk of a man. So sad.

I went into this salon, sat in the chair next to him, and chatted while he got his hair cut. There wasn’t anything special about the place. It was an old salon full of old ladies. It didn’t seem like the type of place I’d bother going to for a haircut. I mean… there was one thing that caught my eye.

The lovely Hungarian lass who was cutting his hair.

I was immediately smitten with this stylist.

It was an easy decision to make to get my hair cut there from then on. Johnny stopped going there and it became my go-to salon from then on. I’ve been going there every 6 months for years and this lady remains a bit of an enigma. She lives in South Philly with her sister, and from what I know about her, she doesn’t go out much or even socialize. It’s like she’s living the life of a much older woman. Doesn’t drink, smoke, or party at all that I know of. I was once chatting with the owner of the salon and he said he didn’t think she’s ever been on a date in her life. She’s like a nun! This all seems a bit odd to me, but she’s a lovely girl. When something seems unattainable I always find it more attractive. Like… I have to find out what the deal is and maybe spend some time with her outside of the salon. But I only go there a few times a year and I don’t see much point in making these visits awkward by me trying to get a date with her. I mean, I could play it a few different ways, but why bother? I’ve got better things to expend my precious resources upon.

She’s over 30 now and will probably still be working at this salon into her 70s. She’s even said this! It seems like such a grindingly boring life and a waste of a perfectly hot, fit lady. But to each his own. It all just seems a bit odd to me. I’m not ruling out the notion of meeting her for a cup of coffee one day, but I’m sure there have been dozens of other younger men that have come through there and asked her out. But they’ve all been declined. I would someday like to find out what her deal is but if I don’t, I’m sure I’ll live. It’s none of my business. She’s a delight to be around and does a good job with my head for $35 bucks a pop so I can’t complain. But the Phicklephilly in me would like to see if there’s anything there now that she’s in her 30s. Just a mystery!

More tomorrow!

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly.

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Holiday Odyssey – Part 1

This series is a review of last year’s holiday season.

Tree Lighting – December 2021

For the last couple of years, my daughter and I really haven’t been into Christmas. When she was little I would get a tree and cover it with lights and ornaments, but after a while, she lost interest and so did I. For so many years as a kid I had so many incredibly great Christmases I felt like I was over it now. It all just seemed like a huge cash grab and stress creator for the masses. That anxiety of having to go out and spend a bunch of money on a load of gifts for everyone. It all just seemed so commercialized after a while.

We’re tired of all the Christmas music that starts right after Halloween. We’ve all heard all of the Christmas music ever made over the years. How many different people can sing and play the same old songs year after year? Don’t get me wrong, Christmas is great. So are birthdays. But they’re great for little kids. To me, Christmas is when I hop on a train and go to my older sister’s house and meet up with the rest of my siblings and other families. It’s one day in December and it’s a time for us to all gather to eat, drink and chat. I love it. It’s a wonderful time. But beyond that, I’m over Christmas. Last year I didn’t watch one Christmas show or movie. I didn’t listen to any Christmas music either. I felt fine. I embraced what was important and left it at that.

My daughter and I exchanged gifts and it was nice, but that was enough for both of us. But this year I’m going to try to get into Christmas a little more. I’ll probably listen to Christmas music on the train down to my sister’s and of course, I’ll get my daughter something even though I have no idea what she wants.

I’ve lived in Philly for over a decade and I’ve never gone to the annual tree lighting ceremony at City Hall. I’ve either been busy doing something way more fun, or it just felt like something that would be too crowded and full of undesirables. But this year I saw that it was happening and it wasn’t a cold night, so I asked my daughter if she wanted to walk over with me and watch as they lit 4000 lights on a 40-foot tree. Could be interesting, right?

I mention it to my daughter and she agreed to go with me. So I know it’ll already be better knowing that she’ll be there and we can share it.

We had dinner so we wouldn’t be cranky and starving while we were there. I read that the tree-lighting event was happening at 7 pm. So we decided to head over around 6:30. I had no idea what it was all about because like I said, I’d never gone to this event.

But here’s the thing… before we went we sparked up a joint and I took two pretty big hits. I figured it would just give me a light glow to further enjoy the festivities. I’m a lightweight when it comes to weed and my tolerance is really low. Growing up I never liked weed because the high came on too fast and it made me feel anxious and paranoid. Booze on the other hand was my favorite and a perfect lubricant for my mind for decades. I hardly drink alcohol at all anymore and don’t see the point, but I’ve begun to really enjoy a little grass in the evening after 10 pm. It feels good, makes everything funnier and more interesting and I really like it now. I’ve beat my anxiety and depression issues so when I take a little hit from a glass bowl it just gives me a nice little lift. But this evening, I took two big hits right off a fatty.

We headed out and started our 15-minute trek to City Hall. I started to feel the effects within about 10 minutes. Normally I only smoke pot at 10pm, at home in my bedroom, and go to bed shortly thereafter. I never go outside and smoke pot because it’s just too much stimulus for my mind. I am very disciplined with what goes into my body now and control everything I do to stay level. But tonight, I figured what the hell, let’s see what 4000 lights on a giant tree look like when I’m buzzed.

We get to City Hall and there were a lot of people there by 7pm. The crowd was a bit unnerving but I was with my daughter and didn’t feel too high so it was cool. But after a while I noticed that those two big hits created a stoner wave in my mind as I stood there in a sea of strangers waiting for the tree to illuminate.

We were on the western side of the building and had a good view of the tree. But what we didn’t know was that all of the festivities were really happening on the Broad Street side just north of where we were standing. I’d never gone to this event and I didn’t know where to stand to maximize the experience.

We couldn’t hear or see what was going on on the north side so we were oblivious to the whole thing. We just stood around with everybody else just waiting. I figured it would happen in the next 20 minutes and that would be it. They’d light the tree, we’d all clap and cheer and then go home.

But now it was 7:30 and nothing was happening. I was feeling pretty stoned and it was a bit unnerving to be in this place, outside, at night, surrounded by so many strangers. If I had been drinking it would have been a totally different vibe, but I was high AF by now.

My daughter says she’s really thirsty and tells me she’s going to get something to drink. Off she goes and I’m left there alone in the crowd. I’m not freaking out, but I definitely feel weird and really high. Not scary panicky high, just pretty well stoned.

As people walk by I notice all the Santa hats, people dressed as elves, lights, illuminated swag, and the voices and conversations of everyone around me. For some reason when I’m high my hearing and eyesight become more acute. So I’m feeling everything. As people walk by and push through the crowd I feel like I’m watching my life in Philly pass before my eyes. Many people look like people I’ve interacted with or met while living here in the city. It was really weird. It was like being at a weird Christmas circus filled with people from my past. I would see moms with their kids and families that even by the look of them I could tell where they were from. My mind started to pull from my imagination and create backstories for the people around me.

What was taking my daughter so long to get a drink and get back here? But that was all in my mind. She was probably only gone 10 minutes by then. I saw groups of young people moving through the crowd that resembled people I once knew or dated as a teenager. I was somehow one of the oldest people there and I was pulling all of this imagery from my past and bringing it into my mind’s eye before me. It was bizarre and I started to feel like I needed to stand with one foot in front of the other to steady myself. I wasn’t messed up or afraid in any way, I was simply immersed in the experience. This is why I don’t go outside if I’m high. It’s too much of a visual and aural overload for my imaginative brain.

My daughter returns holding a hot cider. She seems pretty content and I’m glad she’s back. She tells me she came back earlier and saw the tree wasn’t lit yet and decided to find a bathroom. That’s what took her so long. She also tells me that the spiked cider and bottle of water she drank ran her $17. What a tourist ripoff. We’ve been out here for almost an hour now and I’m thinking the ceremony starts at 7 but the tree lights at 8. Never been here, didn’t know.

8 pm finally rolls around and we had a few laughs and a pretty nice time just hanging out together and doing something at Christmas. The tree lights up and everybody cheers. Once that occurs after all of this time, the crowd begins to disperse. We agree that it wasn’t so bad and at least it wasn’t cold outside and begin to walk home. It was a strange experience and I think I’ll do it again next year, but I’ll probably know where to stand and maybe have a drink and no marijuana. Too weird.

Okay, maybe pregame with a few drinks and then a little toke off a weed vape when we get there. That would make more sense. But, like I always say… good or bad, at least I’ll get a story out of it.

More tomorrow!

Happy Holidays!

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. 

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Got Googled

Back in 2020, I applied to get Google AdSense on my site so they could run ads on my blog and generate revenue. It was a complicated process and took months for them to get back to me.

I was finally approved, and ads began to run on Phicklephilly. I had already secured my own clients to run on the site so this was an added bonus. The income isn’t that great unless you have millions of page views but it was free money I earned while I slept, so I was down.

But here’s the rub.

Google has very strict guidelines when it comes to running ads on your site. Your content has to be very PG and you can’t have anything sexual or offensive on your site. I always wrote from my heart and used the whole language. Especially in the beginning. I wasn’t too worried, because most of my stuff was pretty tame. I’d rather mention it and leave the images up to my readers.

But one of the most popular posts I’ve ever written was about Asian massage parlors in Philly. I wrote it back in 2017 and it was just me interviewing a friend of mine about his experiences at those establishments.

Google Adsense was immediately all over it with warnings about how they wouldn’t run any ads on that page unless I fixed it. What they meant by “fix” was to clean it up and make it safe so anybody could read it. I didn’t like any of this but I complied. I changed a few things but they were relentless in their attacks on my work.

I thought the one page that’s had over 17,000 page views should be a winner for advertising revenue… but no. They kept flagging the site for violations and ultimately I simply relented and took it down. I didn’t want to offend anybody, but it really felt like a form of censorship. I mean… here’s a company that runs ads for HBO and that cable network has tons of profanity, violence, and sex on it. I wondered, why me? That all seemed a bit hypocritical on the part of Google. But I wanted the revenue and it took me forever to get approved, so I sadly gave into their will. They had me at their mercy.

Things have been fine since then and I got over it. But then something else happened last year. My Google email account was hacked. I didn’t realize it at first. A small letter Y appeared in my search engine bar on Google Chrome. I would go to search for something at I would be redirected to Yahoo. I didn’t want any of this. I tried to clean it off my Chrome account using different security measures but none of them worked.

This went on for a week or so, and then one Sunday night I got a text from google that they had disabled my account. So I had no access to my email, calendar, and my google drive. Google has the power to not only disable your account to keep you safe it can easily cut you off from everything you have in your accounts with them. They do this with no remorse and without warning. This is a little disturbing that this company has this kind of power over its users. (It’s funny how the only two industries that refer to their clients as users are internet companies and drug dealers)

My mail has been in place for 10 years and had everything in it. My calendar had dates and things scheduled in it since 2010. My Drive had both manuscripts of my works of fiction, and every article I’d written for the freelance commercial writing I do for a living.

Google told me that my google account had been disabled due to harmful malware and phishing that had hacked into my account, and some entity tried to change my password. I thought, the next thing they’d do was try to hack into my bank account or my brokerage accounts. It was pretty scary.

But with the account disabled it stopped the perpetrators dead in their tracks. I found a way to clean out the malware from my chrome account and I sent google a message telling them what I did to try to fix it.

They got back to me in 48 hours and told me the account was irreparably corrupted and they wouldn’t reinstate it.

And that was it. Everything was simply… gone.

But the good news is, I don’t really care about my email or calendar, I just made a new one with a new name and password. But I was a little salty about the elimination of everything in my Drive.

But I wasn’t that upset.

All of my books are held securely at KDP Amazon and I have complete control over them. I also have copies of the manuscripts saved to my computer. Everything I’ve ever written commercially has been shared with my editor and she has records of everything I’ve done. So I’ll be fine.

It was actually a bit liberating to know that although someone could come in and attack my account I really didn’t lose everything. If anything, it gave me a fresh start with a new email free from clutter and a new calendar. I’ll just have my editor share with me copies of everything I’ve written for her to my new Drive.

So as daunting as something like this can be, I just had to think to myself for a moment and not panic. My house hasn’t been broken into. My daughter is safe and so am I. My money is secure and untouchable. My creative work is safe. I’m fine and I really haven’t lost anything. The only time you really lose something is when your perception is that it’s a loss.

If you’re fine without something you don’t really miss it. Nothing of real value has been affected and we’re all fine, so this is simply a story and a warning to everybody out there to be careful and be mindful of what’s going on with your digital footprint across all of your devices.

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. 

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

If Only

Los Angeles, CA – September 1980

Jack walked into the nightclub on Sunset Strip. He didn’t dread these meetings, he just never knew what to expect.

He spoke with security and told them he was there to see Marty. He gave the password, and they let him come into the private room in the back. Marty was there sitting at the bar sipping a glass of whiskey.

“Jack! Great to see you, buddy. It’s been too long. Have a seat. What are you drinking?”

“Nothing for me, thanks. What’s on your mind?”

“We’ve got a little situation. Everything’s fine right now, but we’ve heard some things from some of our contacts in Hawaii.”

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“One of our people overheard a guy saying some things to his friends at a bar. We’ve had our eye on this guy for a while, and we think you should look into it.”

“Is there a file yet?”

Marty reached into a leather bag on the floor next to him and produced a folder. He handed it to Jack. He took the folder and flipped through it.

“Is this everything?”

“Well… it’s never everything, Jack. That’s why I called you. Read the file and get to know this individual. We’ve gathered as much intel on this guy’s background as possible. We just feel that things could escalate and that can’t happen.”

“What’s the fee?”

“The usual. But if things get sticky you’ll be compensated accordingly for any extra effort.”

“What’s the time frame on this?”

“Well, we know where he is right now and where he may be going, but not much else.”

“So you just want me to follow him?”

“Yea. Keep an eye on him.”

“We’ll give you his location and the details are in the file. If you want to talk with him at some point, that’s your call. But I really think this needs to be addressed sooner than later. There are a few of these types out there but usually, it never comes to anything. But this one’s got me nervous.”

“Do I need to know who the client is?”

“No. That’s why I brought you in, Jack. You’re good at helping people and doing the right thing when necessary.”

Jack looked at the file. “No previous criminal record. Interesting.”

“Yea. Could be nothing but the client doesn’t want to leave anything to chance.”

“How long’s the job?”

“Hard to say. Could be a month, maybe longer. We really don’t know.”

“Alright. Anything else?”

“Uh, yea. I want you to partner with Adhira.

“Come on. You know I only work alone, Marty.”

“Look… for this job I want you to have her with you. This way you won’t stand out too much.”

“Oh, okay… me and some hot Indian chick. Yea, I won’t stand out at all.”

“You two have worked well together in the past and I think while you’re traveling it’ll just look less conspicuous if it looks like you’re a couple. As I said, this all could turn out to be nothing, but it’s for the best if Adhira is with you.”

“Fine. So what’s next?”

“Here are your tickets to Honolulu. Adhira’s already there. She’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Okay. You got it.”

Honolulu, HI – September 1980

As night fell on the island, Jack and Adhira had dinner at Roy’s Hawaii Kai.

“Food’s great here, Jack. Remember when we worked that surveillance gig back in’78?”

“Yea. That was a crazy time, Adhira. It’s been two years. You still look the same.”

“You look a little tired, Jack. Have you read the file?”

“Probably jet lag that’s all. Yea, I read it on the plane on the way out. The guy seems a bit nuts but I don’t see the urgency here.”

“Well, if Marty hired you it must mean something. Hey…how bad is your life? You’re in Hawaii for goodness’ sake.”

“Yea, but why are you here, Adhira?”

“Oh, thanks a lot, Jack. Way to make a girl feel welcome.”

“You know what I mean. I always work alone. I just like it that way. Free to move around how and when I want.”

“Marty just thought that for this sort of job, you could use a little company on the road. You know my skills. One of them is to keep whoever I’m with calm and centered. And you know how you you can be.”

“How can I be, Adhira?”

“A little intense. You tend to get a little obsessed with the work sometimes. I’m here to provide you with a bit of balance.”

“Did Marty tell you that about me?”

“There are files on all of us, Jack. Now eat your butterfish.”

Jack grinned and took a mouthful. He looked into Adhira’s dark eyes. She smiled and sipped her wine. He always wondered how such a beautiful woman could end up working at the agency. Her lovely face was framed by raven tresses that tumbled about her shoulders like a moonless river.

“So what’s your take on this guy, Jack?”

“Well, as I said, he seems a little nuts. Textbook upbringing. His father was a sergeant in the air force, and his mom was a nurse. Dad was a little abusive to his mom and he never felt like his old man loved him. That sounds like my family. What son hasn’t thought that about their father?”

“Yea, and he wasn’t athletic in school and sort of a poor student. Kind of a loser.” Adhira frowned.

“Yea, kind of like me. But then there’s all the religious stuff he’s gotten into. I think that’s where the real trouble usually starts. People get these righteous ideas, and some can get a little fanatical about that. My ex-wife was religious and she had a lot of good intentions… if you get what I mean.”

“Yea. The road to hell is paved with them. I get it. He did have some early success working at that kid’s camp in Georgia. Maybe he should have just kept doing that.”

“But I think as he’s gotten older he’s started to unravel a bit. I don’t know what happens to some people. Most of us get disillusioned and sad about stuff, but we move on. Then there are other people who just can’t seem to pull themselves out of it. It’s a shame really.”

Did you see in the file how he started to get into these altercations with the camp counselors and can’t seem to fit in anywhere?”

“Right. Which for some odd reason brings him out here. Kinda weird. It’s expensive to live on this island. It’s a resort. Then he attempts suicide by asphyxiation in his car, but screws that up too when the hose he stuck on the exhaust pipe melts, and he survives. Some people move to California thinking they’ll start a new life. But like the Joad family in The Grapes of Wrath, it’s just the last exit for the lost. But why Hawaii to kill yourself?”

“Maybe to die in paradise? Didn’t they give him a job at the mental hospital they stuck him in after his attempted suicide?”

“Yea, but then he got into an altercation with the head nurse and quit. I think the last job he held was as a security guard. Funny how he’s good with the kids at the camp, then works at a hospital, and then in security. It’s like he’s always working in jobs that serve and protect human life. But then he starts drinking, and that’s never a good thing if you’re suffering from mental illness.”

“I think it’s only made his obsessions worse.”

“Yea, booze makes you feel better in the beginning… but after a while, it sledgehammers everything else in your life.”

“Speaking from personal experience, Jack?”

“What do you think?”

Manhattan, NY – December 1980

Jack and Adhira sat in their agency-issued vehicle in front of the hotel where their subject was staying.

“We’ve been on this job for a couple of months and although I’ve enjoyed our time together, Jack. I don’t know what to think now.”

“Yea… He goes to New York, and he wanders around the city and not much else. Then he leaves. We follow him to Atlanta, he meets with a friend and then he’s back in Hawaii. Now here we are back in New York again. It’s just weird. But I believe he’s still thinking about doing something.”

December 7, 1980

Jack and Adhira followed their subject as he walked around the city. Keeping a close tail but far enough away to seem inconspicuous. It was pretty easy in a city as populated as Manhattan. They were standing near the 72nd Street subway entrance when they saw their subject speak to someone for the first time since they’d been following him.

“Jack…look. He’s talking to that guy over there. I wonder what that’s all about? Planning something with him?”

“I don’t know, but doesn’t that guy look like the singer, James Taylor? It’s uncanny.”

“Yea, that’s funny. He really does look like him. Let’s just stay close.”

December 8

It was early morning. Jack and Adhira sat in a cafe across the street from the Sheraton Hotel. They watched as their subject walked out of the hotel lobby.

“He’s on the move. Let’s go.”

They followed him to a local bookstore. He was inside for a few minutes and then exited the store. They again followed him to 72nd Street just off Central Park. He just hung out in front of a large apartment building chatting with people and the doorman. Jack watched from across the street and Adhira went to get the car.

They later sat in the car parked nearly in front of the building. Watching their subject just hanging around the entrance.

“This is boring, Jack. He’s just standing around. He’s not doing anything. Maybe his connection is late or something. This doesn’t make sense. All we’ve seen is a guy chatting with people, and that one lady with the little kid he said hello to. But I don’t think he really knows any of these people.”

10:45pm

“Jack, we’ve been here all day watching this guy. What time is it?”

“Nearly 11 pm. Are there any of those fries left?”

“Here.”

“Thanks. You know what? Stay here. I’m gonna get out and stretch my legs. I’m going to go talk to this guy.”

“What are you going to say?”

“I’ll think of something. Move into the driver’s seat, in case we have to leave again, okay?”

“No problem. But after this, you’re buying me some real food and some strong drinks.”

“You got it.”

Jack exited the car and approached the apartment building’s archway entrance. The subject stood off to his left.

A black limousine pulled up in front of the building and caught Jack’s attention. A man and woman exited the limo and walked toward the entrance.

Jack was right behind the subject at this point. Adhira watched from inside their car. The man and woman walked past the subject and Jack thought he heard the subject say the man’s name. The subject then reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun.

From years of training, Jack was ready. He was always ready. This was what he did for a living.

The hunter.

The problem solver.

Jack emptied the clip of his .38 automatic into the subject’s body. Headshot first followed by a hail of bullets into his body. The subject fell to the ground as the woman with the man screamed and ducked behind her husband. They both turned and looked into Jack’s face.

But only for a moment.

Blood began to pool around the subject’s head as he died on the pavement in front of the building. Guards grabbed the couple and pulled them inside the lobby.

Jack was already gone. He leaped into the car, and Adhira hit the gas. Within minutes they were far from the scene.

“Oh my God! How did you know, Jack?”

“It’s what I do. Just keep driving.”

Los Angeles, CA – December 9

Jack sat alone at the bar in the club on Sunset Strip. He was approached by one of the servers.

“Marty will see you now, sir.”

Jack walked into the back room and sat down in front of Marty’s desk.

“You did good, Jack. Real good.” He placed a briefcase on the desk in front of him.

Jack looked at him and took a sip from his drink. “No.”

“No? but, there’s extra in there.”

“You keep it.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yea. This one’s on me.”

I wrote this story back in 2020 in memory of one of my fallen heroes who was taken from us too soon on December 8, 1980.

If only things could have been different…

Rest in peace, John.

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. 

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Merry Christmas, everyone.

If Only – Part 3

Manhattan, NY – December 1980

Jack and Adhira sat in their agency-issued vehicle in front of the hotel where their subject was staying.

“We’ve been on this job for a couple of months and although I’ve enjoyed our time together, Jack. I don’t know what to think now.”

“Yea… He goes to New York, and he wanders around the city and not much else. Then he leaves. We follow him to Atlanta, he meets with a friend and then he’s back in Hawaii. Now here we are back in New York again. It’s just weird. But I believe he’s still thinking about doing something.”

December 7

Jack and Adhira followed their subject as he walked around the city. Keeping a close tail but far enough away to seem inconspicuous. It was pretty easy in a city as populated as Manhattan. They were standing near the 72nd Street subway entrance when they saw their subject speak to someone for the first time since they’d been following him.

“Look, Jack. He’s talking to that guy over there. I wonder what that’s all about? Planning something with him?”

“I don’t know, but doesn’t that guy look like the singer, James Taylor? It’s uncanny.”

“Yea, that’s funny. He really does look like him. Let’s just stay close.”

December 8

It was early morning. Jack and Adhira sat in a cafe across the street from the Sheraton Hotel. They watched as their subject walked out of the hotel lobby.

“He’s on the move. Let’s go.”

They followed him to a local bookstore. He was inside for a few minutes and then exited the store. They again followed him to 72nd street just off Central Park. He just hung out in front of a large apartment building chatting with people and the doorman. Jack watched from across the street and Adhira went to get the car.

Later, they sat in the car parked nearly in front of the building. They watched their subject just hanging around the entrance.

“This is boring, Jack. He’s just standing around. He’s not doing anything. Maybe his connection is late or something. This doesn’t make sense. All we’ve seen is a guy chatting with people and that one lady with the little kid he said hello to. But I don’t think he really knows any of these people.

10:45pm

“Jack, we’ve been here all day watching this guy. What time is it?”

“Nearly 11 pm. Are there any of those fries left?”

“Here.”

“Thanks. You know what? Stay here. I’m gonna get out and stretch my legs. I’m going to go talk to this guy.”

“What are you going to say?”

“I’ll think of something. Move into the driver’s seat, in case we have to leave again, okay.”

“No problem. But after this, you’re buying me some real food and some strong drinks.”

“You got it.”

Jack exited the car and approached the apartment building’s archway entrance. The subject stood off to his left.

A black limousine pulled up in front of the building and caught Jack’s attention. Two people exited the limo and walked toward the entrance.

Jack was right behind the subject at this point. Adhira watched from inside their car. The man and woman walked past the subject and Jack thought he heard the subject say the man’s name. The subject then reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun.

From years of training, Jack was ready. He was always ready. This was what he did for a living.

The hunter.

The equalizer. 

The problem solver.

Jack emptied the clip of his .38 automatic into the subject’s body. Headshot first followed by a hail of bullets into his body. The subject fell to the ground as the woman with the man screamed and ducked behind her husband. The man and woman turned and looked into Jack’s face.

But only for a moment.

Blood began to pool around the subject’s head as he died on the pavement in front of the building. Guards grabbed the couple and pulled them inside the lobby.

Jack was already on the move and leaped into the car as Adhira hit the gas. Within minutes they were far from the scene.

“Oh my God! How did you know, Jack?”

“It’s what I do. Just keep driving.”

Los Angeles, CA – December 9

Jack sat alone at the bar in the club on Sunset Strip. He was approached by one of the servers.

“Marty will see you now, sir.”

Jack walked into the back room and sat down in front of Marty’s desk.

“You did good, Jack. Real good.” He placed a briefcase on the desk in front of him.

Jack looked at him and took a sip from his drink. “No.”

“No? but, there’s extra in there.”

“You keep it.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yea. This one’s on me.”

 

 

I wrote this story back in 2020 in memory of one of my fallen heroes who was taken from us too soon on December 8, 1980. 

If only things could have been different…

Rest in peace, John.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly.

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

 

Merry Christmas, everyone.