Cap Snip

Posted on April 23, 2025 by Marty & Stephanie

“Our house is a very, very, very fine house
With two cats in the yard”

– Graham Nash – recorded by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young

We have two cats. Excuse me. Two cats have us. No one owns cats.

Four years ago, a mother cat and her litter of kittens walked through our backyard. One black kitten had climbed into one of our garden boxes stared up at Stephanie and never left. The mother cat and her litter moved on.

Stephanie started feeding the kitten hoping to protect the birds that we’ve fed for years. One sunrise, she walked out to take care of the habitat and there were now two identical black kittens. We enjoyed watching the siblings play, chasing each other around the yard, climbing trees, basically honing their survival skills. Tom, an older tiger-striped cat retuned to our yard at this time after running away when Stephanie’s daughter’s dog, who we were dog sitting, barked at him. He was happy to be back and bonded with the kittens.

There was a feral cat problem in our neighborhood and Marty wanted to get them fixed before they could reproduce. So, we captured all three cats to bring to The Animal Rescue League for their respective surgeries. One of the black cats was female, who we named Sam (since we couldn’t get close enough to determine its sex and figured Sam could be short for Samantha), the other male, who we named Junior, after Blackie, a cat that had hung around our yard. Blackie had been seriously injured a few months before the kittens arrived and we brought him to the ARL believing he would be euthanized. To our surprise, the ARL informed us that the black tom we had brought in previously had been repaired and sent out for adoption. The staff called him “Martin” after Marty. Some people have buildings named for them. Marty’s namesake is a cat.

Sadly, Tom had to be put to death shortly after he had been neutered. He had an oral disease that kept him from eating. We brought him back to the ARL where we were told that the problem was a dental issue that hurt him every time he ate, so he quit eating.

Shortly after the death of Tom, another cat entered the scene. His front paw was broken and he couldn’t put any weight on it for months. We called him “Paws”, as you have probably figured out, we lack creativity in naming the homeless cats that visit out humble home. We protected Paws so that he could heal.

Not long after Paws joined the cat crew, another cat walked into the fold. This cat belonged to someone in the neighborhood because he showed up with a red collar around his neck. We didn’t call him “Collar” until after he had managed to get the collar off and later returned with another around his neck. He managed to get that one off, as well. We don’t know why someone would allow a male cat with his balls still attached to run loose in the neighborhood, but there he was, meowing to be fed. Unlike Paws, he was not shy. But he had a broken tail and we were afraid he may have been abused. The tom cats chased poor Sam away.

Before we could get Paws and Collar neutered, Paws quit eating. We believe he wondered off to die. We haven’t seen him since the middle of winter. Shortly after Paws left us, Collar disappeared. It could be that both cats succumbed to a pack of coyotes, since they had been declawed and couldn’t protect themselves. One night, around 3:00 am, Marty looked out the window after using the bathroom and saw three coyotes walking up Lynner Drive in front of our home. A few weeks earlier, a neighbor who lives a block away had his small dog snatched up by a coyote right out of the front yard. Ironically, the dog’s name was Lucky.

J.R. is still with us (we felt he was too old to be called Junior). He lives on the deck out back like an alpha dog. Although still quite feral, he demands attention like an indoor cat. He jumps in front of Stephanie, lies down on his back and expects her to pet him. She does until her back gives out. As for Marty, he has the night shift and goes outside when the cat is staring at him in through the patio doors window. Marty has to sit on a patio chair and hang his hand over the edge where the cat can maneuver itself under Marty’s hand, thereby manipulating Marty into thinking he is really in command. But Marty has trained him to know that “here you go” means he’ll set a treat on the deck for J.R. to eat. And he has also trained him to know what “last bite” means, since Marty has always wanted to know beforehand when he was about to eat the last bite of anything.

Recently, Sam came home like a prodigal son/daughter. We know it’s her because she’s identical to J.R., and her ear is snipped (that’s what the ARL does to help identify those felines who have been fixed). She now comes to the front door. Sadly, J.R. will not accept her like he did the several toms. Siblings!

It’s been years since we have had a mouse in the house. Now that Sam is back home, we have both sides of the house covered. Along with the absence of mice, we have no ground squirrels, rabbits, ground hogs or snakes. We don’t mind missing the ground hogs, rabbits, or ground squirrels, but snakes provide excellent natural pest control, especially in the garden. And speaking of the garden, parts of it are now being used as a litter box.

The average life expectancy of a feral cat is five years. Average-wise, we should expect the siblings to last only one more year. We don’t know about Sam, but J.R. has gone through at least three of his nine lives of which we are aware. He broke his back (probably from falling out of a tree); and his front paw swelled up for days as a result of a bee or wasp sting. There is also the possibility he was shot with a BB gun in the side. He always finds his way home.

Life is a journey. We will continue to care for the people and animals that cross our paths. For Stephanie, this is the definition of being prolife. It has never and will never be about abortion.

***

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Flaws in the laws – Part VII

Posted on April 4, 2025 by Marty Ryan

Apparently, research at the Iowa Capitol is a thing of the past.

Senate File 397 passed the Iowa Senate and House with a total of two[1] “nay” votes between the two chambers and is waiting for the governor’s signature. SF 397 is a bill that enhances penalties for assault on people employed in certain occupations. The list of those occupations (included below) adds “juvenile detention staff and employees of the Department of Inspections, Appeals, and Licensing (DIAL) who conduct investigations or inspections to the long list of occupations.” The floor manager in the House made a remark that the bill added a “protected class,” as if this is class warfare.

.A Legislative Fiscal Note issued by the nonpartisan Legislative Services Agency estimates there will be an increase “penalties for assaults on persons in certain occupations.” The Fiscal Note also believes there “may disproportionately impact Black individuals if trends remain constant.” If you don’t care, you should. America has a higher incarceration rate than any other civilized country in the world[2].

In FY 2024, there were 27 individuals admitted to prison, 9 individuals admitted to parole, and 125 individuals admitted to probation for the most serious offense under Iowa Code section 708.3A. Under the Bill, the DOC estimates that prison and parole admissions and LOS (length of stay) would be increased. The probation counts would be redistributed given the enhancements, since some individuals would be ordered to prison under the Bill.

The list of occupations affected by this legislation includes:

    • peace officer
    • jailer
    • correctional or juvenile detention staff
    • member or employee of the board of parole
    • health care provider
    • employee of the department of health and human services
    • employee of the department of inspections, appeals, and licensing who conducts investigations or inspections
    • employee of the department of revenue
    • national guard member engaged in national guard duty or state active duty
    • civilian employee of a law enforcement agency
    • civilian employee of a fire department, or fire fighter, whether paid or volunteer

That’s a lot of Iowans. You could be charged with a class “C” felony if you should assault[3] someone who worked in one of those occupations. However, the law does not state that the assault must occur while the person in the occupation is “on the job.” It’s just another “flaw in the law.” That means that a dispute between you and your neighbor, who happens to be a “health care provider,” may lead to you being charged with a class “C” felony, punishable by “no more than ten years, and in addition shall be sentenced to a fine of at least one thousand three hundred seventy dollars but not more than thirteen thousand six hundred sixty dollars.” That’s pretty steep for slapping your neighbor (ala Will Smith v. Chris Rock). But wait, you don’t even need to slap her. Iowa Code section 708.1(1)(b) defines an assault as “Any act which is intended to place another in fear of immediate physical contact which will be painful, injurious, insulting, or offensive, coupled with the apparent ability to execute the act.” [Emphasis mine.] So, just raising your hand to slap your neighbor will contain the necessary elements of the crime under subsection (1)(b). I am not an attorney, but it seems to me that it may be the case for most instances while using the plain language of the law[4], especially when the law emphasizes that a member of the National Guard must be “engaged in national guard duty or state active duty,” but requires no “on-the-job” requirement for other occupations.

The bill also adds saliva to the list of offensive objects resulting in an “employee’s contact with blood, seminal fluid, urine, or feces [] that is intended to cause pain or injury or be insulting or offensive and that results in blood, seminal fluid, urine, saliva, or feces being cast or expelled upon an employee of the jail or institution or facility under the control of the department of corrections.” This part of the bill could have stood alone.

Back to the lack of research

Enhancing penalties for these crimes is counter-productive.

“Research on crime deterrence shows that increasing punishment severity does little to prevent crime. This is partly because criminals seldom know the legal sanctions for specific crimes.[5]” But it’s more than that; assaulting a person in an occupation that deals with the public on a continuous basis is usually the result of rage, impairment, mental issues, miscommunication, or some other factor lacking in logic or rationale[6].

I have always called this type of legislation an “Animal Farm” bill[7]. I know it wouldn’t hold up in court, but I like to believe that laws such as this violate Iowa’s Constitution, Article 1, section 1: “All men and women are, by nature, free and equal, and have certain inalienable rights – among which are those of enjoying and defending life and liberty, acquiring, possessing and protecting property, and pursuing and obtaining safety and happiness.”

These assault laws protect no one. There can be no preventive measure to the law because someone who is going to strike another rarely weighs the consequences. There can be only two results to this madness. Time in prison can mean the incarcerated individual learns from other inmates about better ways to commit crimes[8]. Also, it can satisfy the person in a certain occupation to know that their attacker is going to be punished more than if they were an “average” Iowan. That is known as revenge. Archie Bunker said: “What’s wrong with revenge, Edith. It’s the best way to get even with someone.” Is that what Iowans want – revenge?

Unfortunately, enhancing penalties do very little but provide prosecutors additional options to offer in plea bargains. Iowa legislators need to perform more research and prevent passing bills that may seem to make sense and provide a comforting election brochure item, but only add to more senseless incarceration and crime statistics.

[1] Representatives Elinor Levin (D-Iowa City) and Beth Wessel-Kroeschell (D-Ames).

[2] https://worldpopulationreview.com/country-rankings/incarceration-rates-by-country

[3] https://www.legis.iowa.gov/docs/code/708.1.pdf

[4] “We do not search for legislative intent beyond the express language of a statute when that language is plain and the meaning is clear. Voss v. Iowa Dep’t of Transp., 621 N.W.2d 208, 211 (Iowa 2001).” McGill v. Fish, 790 NW 2d 113 (Iowa 2010).

[5] https://gigafact.org/fact-briefs/does-increasing-the-penalties-for-a-crime-reduce-the-incidence-of-that-crime/

[6] https://www.osha.gov/workplace-violence/

[7] ‘All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.’ https://interestingliterature.com/2020/05/a-summary-and-analysis-of-george-orwells-animal-farm/

[8] https://www.npr.org/2013/02/01/169732840/when-crime-pays-prison-can-teach-some-to-be-better-criminals

***

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What were they thinking?

Posted on March 5, 2025 by Marty Ryan

This blog was written a little over two years ago as an op-ed. The newspaper to which it was submitted rejected it. Now that the Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives has recommended members of Congress cancel and never reschedule town hall meetings, this essay has more meaning.

The Iowa Capitol Press Association canceled its annual legislative preview forum earlier this week when Iowa Governor Kim Reynolds, House Speaker Pat Grassley, and Iowa Senate Majority Leader Jack Whitver rejected the ICPA’s invitation to participate in the event that has been held over the past twenty years without incident.

The ICPA should have continued to schedule the event without the unreliable Republicans. There is another faction of the Ninetieth General Assembly that has participated in the past – the minority party, otherwise called Democrats.

Canceling the event because the party in power refuses to be confronted by questions that might be tough to answer is ceding power to power. The Republicans win again. At the rate things are going in Iowa we’re about to face the edge of state-run press. There are hints of it already when you read the newspaper and see the media release by the governor’s office the day before printed in toto.

The media has more power than it recognizes. Hold the legislative preview forum with Democratic leadership from each chamber. Surely, they have something to say. Perhaps it’s time to hear the other side, even if it has an extremely small opportunity to have its ideas enacted. Empty chair debates have been going on for at least 100 years.

Burton K. Wheeler, Progressive vice-presidential nominee in 1924 addressed a packed room in Des Moines.

“You people have a right to know how a candidate for President stands on issues, and so far President Coolidge has not told you where he stands on anything… so I am going to call him before you tonight and ask him to take this chair and tell me where he stands.” People in the auditorium began to crane their necks to see if Coolidge really was somewhere on the premises. I pulled a vacant chair and addressed it as though it had an occupant. “President Coolidge,” I began, “tell us where you stand on Prohibition.” I went on with rhetorical questions in this vein, pausing after each for a short period. Then I wound up: “There, my friends, is the usual silence that emanates from the White House.”

There is a possibility that the media may once again be able to question Republicans without relying on media releases. Reporters should wander out into the rotunda and talk to lobbyists, visitors, and anyone else out there. A serious outside-the-box suggestion would be to randomly call a constituent or two, or more, in a legislator’s district to receive an indication of how a lawmaker’s voters feel about the person.

Slowly, like a frog sitting in a pot of cold water, the media in this state is waiting for the pot to boil. Waiting for those in power to determine when they might talk to reporters is not going to happen with the status quo.

Journalists in the ICPA membership should not be afraid that the governor and the legislature might not cooperate with the media if the ICPA extends coverage to those not in power, the minority, certain lobbyists, constituents, and readership.

What’s the worse that happen? Losing selected parking outside the Capitol?

***

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Irritations II

Posted on February 21, 2025 by Marty Ryan

This blog was posted in September of 2019. Supposedly, nothing has changed – NOTHING!

As I get older, I notice that I am becoming one of those old people that I despised as a young boy.  There are several things that piss me off, and I think I should jot them down.  You may be able to empathize.

Drivers

Certain drivers drive me crazy.  Okay, maybe all drivers drive me crazy.  Why am I the only decent automobile driver out there?

The driver that pisses me off more than others is the guy who speeds up in the inner lane to pass me, cuts over to my lane, and slows to a complete stop before making a right turn.  That goes for the guy that makes a left turn when he passed me in the right lane.

In second place is the person who is in front of me at a stop light.  The light turns green and they sit there.  They may be reading a text or email, or just day dreaming.  Honking is almost a self-irritant (I don’t like honking horns, either – especially the Honk, Honk, Honk of a car that is being stolen – never).  The minute the person in front of you takes off, the propulsion is that of a rocket.  You never see them again, until you get to the next stop light.

Third place is the tailgater who finally speeds around you, fingering you as he goes by, and two miles up the road he’s next to you at the same stoplight.  I have been taught not to taunt.  He could have a gun.

This category could be pages, so I have decided to make it part of a series.

Shopping

“Did you find everything you need?”  I often say “no” whether I did or not.  The answer is always an amazing.  “Oh!”  As the clerk continues to scan items.  Many retailers have taught the clerk what to ask, but never gave the minimum wage earner a lesson on what to do if someone answers anything but “yes”.

An occasional bright clerk may call the manager over, or direct you to the courtesy counter.  When you discover that – yes, they are out of that product – the conditioned reply is: “We’ll have it in the morning.”  The next time I get that answer I’m going to have them deliver it to me.  I don’t feel like I have to return to the same store in the morning, spending about a dollar in gas, when I might save 20 cents on the out-of-stock item.  Better yet, I think I’ll tell the manager that I’ll just stop at the competitor’s store down the street and pick it up there.

Grocery stores hire many high school students.  Those students have been taught to converse with the customer.  My desire is for the student-clerk to pay attention to what they are doing.  “That tomato juice is on sale for 79¢.”  “Oh”, she says.  “Is it in the ad?”  I think employees should be required to read the advertisements before their shift starts (and get paid for it) each week the store begins a new week of discounts.  At the least, people working in a department, like meats or produce, should have a comprehensive idea of what is on sale in their respective departments during a given week.

“Do you have big plans for the weekend?”  That question from a teenager was suggested by management to keep up a conversation with the customer.  One of these days I want to respond with: “Well, that depends.  What are you doing on Saturday night?”  I would probably get arrested.

Television Commercials with old songs

It began with a pickup commercial years ago in which Chevy used Bob Segar’s ‘Like a Rock’.  I once liked that song.  Chevy drove it into my brain so much I now despise it.  Applebee’s is using a popular song now.  And Ford is attempting to ruin every Queen song I’ve ever loved – which was all of them.

Lectures with a Q & A

I don’t attend many lectures anymore, and maybe it’s because I get irritated at people who stand up during the Q & A at the end and give a 6-minute description of something that happened in their life to relate to the lecturer’s subject (even though it’s a stretch to make the comparison).  It usually ends by having the lecturer asking if the person standing has a question.  It’s bad enough when the commenter says ‘no’ and sits down or wraps it up.  It’s a 10 on the Pain Scale when the person stumbles over trying to come up with a question.

Overturning the Tables at the Temple

Store managers that allow nonprofit groups to solicit outside the store’s doors should be fired.  I don’t appreciate being greeted by a mob of Girl Scouts asking if I want to buy overpriced cookies.  I lie and tell them that I buy them from my daughter.  So what if my daughter is 40-years-old.  The scouts’ moms are reaching that age.  And aren’t they the cookie pushers with the idea to hassle store customers going in and coming out of the store?

The Knights of Columbus want to give me a Tootsie Roll.  Yeah!  “Here, have a 5 oz. roll of guilt.  It’s free!”  Sure, it is.  If you happen to be Roman Catholic that guilt of turning it down and not contributing will last through your death bed and into the first 4 days of purgatory.

You may like eating the free nibbles at COSTCO and in the grocery stores, but I stay away.  It’s not that I reject free food, it’s the problem of cluttering up the aisle while pretending to think the tiny sample is the greatest thing since sliced bread, even though the sampler doesn’t buy the product. I hate to be one of those aisle cloggers.  I have to get ahead of you in the check out.

What do you like, Marty?

I like kids.  They can make you laugh more than most comedians.

We live next to a licensed day care center.  The facility has about 50 kids, from infants to 12-year-olds.  If you can remember watching the Art Linkletter show back in the 60s, you can relate to what I get almost every day.

Stephanie and I watched a dog overnight for a friend a few weeks ago.  Four or five children came running up to the fence.  “What’s its name?”  They were all asking.  “Zoe,” I said, and kept on walking.  All of the children in the group began yelling, “Bye, doggie!!”

Even though the children can keep me laughing, they can also keep me humble.  One of the teachers suggested the kids say “Hi” to the neighbor.  “Hi, old man!”

Crap.  I’ve become that old man I never wanted to be.

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Not even close

Posted on February 8, 2025 by Marty Ryan

I was reading a book entitled Unidentified Woman #15 by David Housewright [First Down and Out Books June 2020 – Copyright @ 2015].  The featured character, Roosevelt McKenzie, ponders the fact that a Minneapolis Star-Tribune “article dealt more with the manhunt involving eight squads, one ambulance, and one fire truck than the actual shooting.”  About that time, it was barely audible, but I heard the “whoop” of the beginning of a police car’s siren.  Next, I saw the blue and red lights blinking in my window.  I got up off my chair and went to the front door window to see a man down on my neighbor’s yard with two other men hovering over him.

The police cruiser pulled up to the curb and an officer got out of the car and scurried to the scene.  It was across the street, and I had a very good view of what was taking place, but I had no idea what had happened.  Did the guy fall on the ice?  Did he have a heart attack?  All I could see was his back.  He was wearing a white T-shirt, and he was lying on the ground on his left side, his knees bent slightly.

Before it was over, there were seven Des Moines squads, one ambulance, and a paddy wagon.  No firetruck.  So, after reading the passage in the book, I assumed the guy must have committed murder.  Not even close.

Before the first squad pulled up, two men were standing over the person on the ground.  They were not in uniform, so I figured they were good Samaritans.  Not even close.  After reading the Des Moines Police Case Summary Report (PCSR), I discover that the two men were bounty hunters working for a bail bondsman.  They had identified themselves to the police officer as “fugitive recovery agents.”

We sat outside on the stoop watching the action.  Stephanie could hear some of the conversations.  I didn’t have my hearing aids in my ears and couldn’t hear anything.  Police kept shining a light in the suspect’s eyes, and the paramedics from the Des Moines Rescue Ambulance were paying attention, as well.  The PCSR emphasizes that the suspect was pepper sprayed and handcuffed by the two vigilantes.  Both sides indicated so.  He ran a little over a block with his hands cuffed behind his back and pepper spray in his eyes.  He was tackled by one of the bounty hunters.  They were hovering over him like a hunter might stand proudly over his prey.

The presence of police power was overwhelming.  Even though it was an arrogant display of flashing lights and blue uniforms all over the place, the suspect was charged with trespass, interference with official acts, and possession of drug paraphernalia, all simple misdemeanors.  Compare how many squads show up in the inner ring suburb of Little Canada [in Minneapolis] for a murder to how many show up for three simple misdemeanors in Des Moines, Iowa.

Enough of the crying liberal in me.  There are several problems with what we witnessed.  In addition to the descriptions above (wanna-be police, more emergency vehicles and personnel than necessary), I looked into the suspect.  He is a 40-year-old Black male with a history of trespass, interference with official acts, and other misdemeanors.  He has one class “C” felony on his rap sheet, but he served no prison time because of The Pandemic. His only crime this particular night was walking into an apartment building when he was told to stay out.

This past week, we had a double murder occur at the far end of the block. Understandably, there were about seven police patrol cars on the street, along with the fire truck and ambulance. It was obvious from the media release that it was a murder/suicide without actually saying it. Also, the ambulance left the neighborhood without lights or sirens.

The following night, we heard the “whoop” of a police car siren, and saw a vehicle pull to the side of the road [M.L. King Jr. Blvd] about 150 feet from our house. Pretty soon, there were more than seven police cars on the block, not including the paddy wagon. There was no fire truck or ambulance at this scene.

Police had what appeared to be their weapons out, but it was hard to see in the dark. One by one, three young men exited the vehicle with their hands on their heads, walking backwards about 20 feet toward the officers at the rear of the car. Officers handcuffed each of them at the front of the patrol car. We saw an officer pop the trunk and look into it with his flashlight. Another opened the passenger door and shined the flashlight into the interior. Eventually, police vehicles left the street and the driveways until only one was left to watch over the impoundable car until it could be towed.

The following morning, I searched for the cause of the previous night’s entertainment. The driver of the vehicle allegedly “disobeyed a traffic control signal” and began to elude law enforcement. The driver was the only one of three detained for processing at the jail. He was released at 10:00 am the following morning, about twelve hours after being held in the pokey.

Last November, the neighborhood was again inundated with emergency vehicles when a young woman hanged herself in the woods on the other side of the levee.

With all this recent activity, you would think we live in a dangerous neighborhood. That’s debatable. Our neighbors are wonderful, decent, and welcoming residents. Our immediate neighbors represent a melting pot of people from different countries, backgrounds, and cultures. Not one of those incidents mentioned above had anything to do with the people who live in this neighborhood, with the exception of the murder/suicide. Trouble drives, runs, and walks into the neighborhood. Trouble does not exist in this neighborhood; it tends to drift into it.

***

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The Oasis

Posted on February 2, 2025 by Marty Ryan

I got friends in low places
Where the whiskey drowns
And the beer chases my blues away
And I’ll be okay
Yeah, I’m not big on social graces
Think I’ll slip on down to the Oasis

Friends in low places – Garth Brooks

Country music is not my genre, but there are songs that can fit in the Country category and the Rock Category simultaneously. Music by The Marshall Tucker Band comes to mind. But one country song I could not avoid while living in Crawford County, Iowa, was Friends In Low Places.

Long before Garth Brooks recorded one of his most famous songs, the Oasis in Denison, Iowa, was exactly what Brooks described in his song. I have written about this bar previously at https://iowappa.com/?p=1898:

We pulled in the Oasis parking lot (Yes, in Denison, Iowa, there is a bar called the Oasis, and it was there long before Garth Brooks wrote his famous song Friends In Low Places).  Once inside, Homer went to the bar while Norton and I sat at a table in the darkest part of the bar.  Homer came to the table with three beers.  I drank that beer with no problem.  Besides Millie, the bartender, we were the only people in the bar.  Millie is another story for a future blog.

Recently, I discovered that the Oasis has closed “permanently.” The Oasis was along Highway 30 in Denison, and Highway 30 was my route to and from work. I stopped there often on my way home, but never on the way to work. I did encounter a few people who did stop there prior to their work shift, but not me.

If I could describe The Oasis as I knew it in the 1970s through 1980s, I would say it was similar to “Cheers,” but with a country flavor. It had its bartender Coach in Millie. Millie was tending bar when I was served in the 1960s, and she was still there when I left Denison in the early 1990s. There was a joke that when the bar sold, she went with it, like all the fixtures.

One afternoon, Byron, my co-worker, and I got off work early and decided to have a beer. We walked into The Oasis and sat at the bar. We were the only two customers in the establishment at the time. Millie was cleaning the big mirror behind the various bottles of liquor on the backside of the bar. I have never seen anyone clean the same spot over and over and over again like it took her that day. After several minutes, one of us asked (nicely, I should add) if we could get a couple of beers. She didn’t stop cleaning for a second, but said: “Can’t you see I’m busy!” And we waited a few more minutes until she was done cleaning the mirror and put away all her cleaning supplies, washed her hands, placed her hands on her hips and said, “what do you want?” We were regulars. She knew we wanted a can of Pabst and a bottle of Bud Lite. But that was Millie.

We weren’t the only regulars. There was LaDelle and Butch; Jerry and his wife; Marv; Pappi, the owner; Roger; the two businessmen next door; sometimes Chappy; and many more that would make the list go on and on.

One occasional customer would come in on a mid-afternoon and order two Pepsi’s. He pulled out a chair on one side of the square table and walked to the other side where he sat. Millie would bring the two Pepsi’s (after a number of visits she would greet him at the table with two Pepsi’s before he even ordered), and place one in front of him and the other in front of the vacant chair on the opposite side of the table from him. He would continue to talk to the invisible person on the other side of the table, and from time-to-time he could become quite hostile toward his guest. But they never got into a fight.

Late one night, when I was working the night shift, I came in and ordered a beer. I sat down with Gale and visited for the duration of that beer. As I was about to order another, Gale said that I shouldn’t drive home. He would drive my car to Vail and have Pappi pick him up and drive him back to Denison. I never argued. I wonder to this day what made them think I was drunk. It could be that they were used to me coming in around 5:00 pm rather than 10:30 pm. It doesn’t hurt to refrain from arguing with drunks and fools.

When I noticed last month that the Oasis was ‘permanently’ closed, I figured Millie retired and could not be replaced, or she went to that mirror-washing place in paradise. What would Denison’s Oasis be without Millie?

***

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Des Moines, IA 50310

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