Thursday's Columns
May 8, 2025
The adventures of...
Darwin van Wye:
Quinn County Lawyer,
Real Estate Broker,
Post-Bohemian Writer
by
Craig Chambers
Denver Confluence Writers

Craig Chambers
TO THE FAN WHO SAID MY
Short STORIES ARE TOO BORING
Dear Mr. W of Jenkintown, Pennsylvania:
I received your fan letter where you complain my short stories are too boring. Thanks for writing. And thanks for taking the time to read my stories. I do work on them, you know. I struggle over every word. In between my two jobs.
What did you expect? Bood and guts? Fight scenes? Aerial acrobatics? They're law and real estate stories. Nothing explodes. Not a whole lot goes on in them.
If it's any consolation, Moby Dick was boring. Way too much information about whaling and whales. The Bible, now that's boring and way too religious -- unless you like that sort of thing. The movie Titanic was boring. I mean, I knew the ending from the first frame.
And, of course, One Hundred Years of Solitude is boring. It got pretty lonely. As I got through it, I felt like I lost a whole year.
Yours Truly.
Darwyn Van Wye.
Attorney and Counselor of Law.
--30--
Our
Story
by
Lawrence Abby Gauthier
ace reporter
The Westphalia Periodic News
--First Draft--
Every time I sit down to start a new column, I ask myself: Why am I doing this? I have a five-iron and a putter stashed in the shed out back. I could start playing golf again. Maybe watch old episodes of Andy Griffith for free on our new tv. Maybe take up knitting.
It’s a new experience — this indecision. It started after I retired five years ago.
Up ‘til then, my life had been an endless series of typical days. I’d roll out of bed and go to my job. I didn’t question why. The answer was obvious. I had a family to support.
But it’s different now that I’m retired and the kids are grown and competently supporting children of their own.
So, why do I do it? Why write a weekly column? Over the course of a week, I might spend twenty hours, maybe more, researching, writing and re-writing a single column when I could be doing something else.
But here I sit in front of my computer rummaging around in my mind for an idea that’s like a seed that wants to be a tree or a story.
It’s great that Culley Jane is a writer, too, so I know she doesn’t necessarily think that she’d married a lazy bum when there’s dishes over there, or the car is making a funny noise. So, I don’t have to feel guilty on top of it all. She knows it’s my job… not the kind where you punch a clock, or get punished for not showing up; not even because it’s fun, or pays anything, but because it’s my purpose, my reason for being… that it’s my job to support the family.
Back when there were three noisy kids in the house, one still in diapers, there was little time, or reason, to think about purpose, or what to do after coffee, or why. Just do it. Support the family.
But the house is quiet now.
Who is my family now?
Where is the family I need to support to fulfill my purpose, my role?
This past week, I was in a Zoom meeting with a group of over 300 people from all over the world, associated together in something called the International Peace Coalition (IPC).
The meeting was organized by the Schiller Institute, headed now by larouchian Diane Sare, whom Westphalia interviewed and endorsed for President in the last election even though she was running for the Senate against Chuck Schumer in New York
Of course, Gaza was the main topic of discussion.
From somewhere in West Asia, formerly known as the Middle East, Jonathan Kuttab, an internationally recognized expert on the subject of international law and human rights, brought up the subject of international law, which got me to thinking about my family.
Families have to have rules, like be home by dinnertime or off you go to bed without; or it’s ok to hold hands on the couch, but keep your feet on the floor.
It was ok to argue about the rules with dad — up to a point — and sometimes he’d amend them, especially as I got older.
But to simply ignore the rules, like they don’t apply to you, breaks up what binds a family.
--End First Draft--
I showed my first draft to Culley Jane, the retired professor who runs Westphalia’s language department with a teacher’s eye.
“You’re not going to end it there, are you?” she said.
“Why not?” I replied.
“Because you don’t answer your own question.”
“Which was?”
“Who is your family now.”
“The answer’s implied.”
“Well, if that’s good enough for you, ok then.”