There it was on page 162. Sneering at me. Having itself a big ole laugh at my expense.
For more than five decades, she’s lived in a world she never wanted.
You can’t out yell Robin Ficker because Robin Ficker can out yell everyone.
Some guy named Cornelius Vanderbilt walked into the Moon Lake Lodge restaurant in 1853 and ordered French-fried potatoes. And the world has never been the same since.
In the 1970 World Series, Brooks Robinson played his corner. That was his portion of the field. His. He owned it. Dominated it. He swung, leapt, crouched, scooped. He crawled and dove. Threw and snagged.
“Agent Carter knows how to wear a hat. She also knows how to disarm an armed man – or men – depending on the occasion, diffuse a prototype bomb with household chemicals, and pick up sandwiches everyday for the boys in the office.”
“Tara Lynn Thompson has been in hiding too long. We have no idea if the authorities are after her or she just prefers watching the world from the anonymous shadows, but we’re pulling back the curtain.”
“In 1963, a loaf of bread was 22 cents. Buy a pound of chicken for 29 cents and, with your loaf, you could feed your entire family for less than the cost of one small burger on the McDonald’s dollar menu of today.”
“Maybe Christmas, the Grinch thought, doesn’t come from a store.”
– Dr. Seuss
William Bradford had a job no one would want. It paid little, as in nothing, and required much. The work environment was hazardous. The people disorganized.