Daniel Hopfer, I: The Bacchanal with a Wine Vat (c. 1515-1530)

All The Usual Plotlines
I claim to live near the center of the universe, overlooking, if not quite inhabiting, it. Leaving never fails to reconvince me just how right this observation seems, for I have yet to encounter a more perfect place, even with all of its obvious blemishes. I reflected this writing week on how I could not have possibly become who and what I am had I been born in any other place or time. The towns we passed through on our toodle to and back from the Midwest clearly showed poorly when compared to where we started, where we knew we were headed at the end of our excursion. In this way, The Muse and I find travel to be enormously reassuring. We are not seeking another new beginning or a second or third-handed fresh start. We know where we belong and feel supremely fortunate for that place to have found us. We returned to find the self-same problems we temporarily abandoned. The sprinklers didn't quite reach as well as we'd assumed they might. Something's fishy about the pond fountain pump. All the usual plotlines reawakened when we crossed our threshold again, thank heavens.

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Weekly Writing Summary


Entrancing

"I will not have heard the news because I wouldn't have been listening for it."

This FollowingChapters Story catches me playing a role I learned decades ago and replay every time I engage with family again.

When family reunions occur, individuals often revert to roles they learned in childhood, transforming into versions of themselves from decades past. These roles can overshadow personal growth, causing discomfort as old patterns resurface. People may feel the urge to be seen as who they are now rather than the roles assigned to them long ago. While they may come together to reconnect, the dynamics often reveal how much has changed, leaving everyone feeling like strangers. The challenge lies in breaking free from these ingrained identities to acknowledge the present and embrace new possibilities.


Lewis Wickes Hine: Italian Family, Chicago (1910)

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FairToMiddling

"…some vestigial and rarely-recognized part of me."

This FollowingChapters Story finds The Muse and I attending a county fair.

County fairs are a cornerstone of rural American culture, blending nostalgia with communal experiences. I recount my memories of attending fairs, highlighting activities such as competitions, food stalls, and unique local attractions. I describe how fairs vary in focus—from rodeos to agriculture—and detail The Muse and my visit to the Brown County Fair, which was free of charge and featured a wide array of food options. We encountered political candidates and a public display of an actual sow giving birth to piglets, showcasing the fair’s blend of entertainment and community. Ultimately, the fair serves as a reminder of human connection in a largely digital world, even as I reflect on the changes and risks associated with modern events.


Ben Shahn: Untitled [county fair, central Ohio] (August 1938)

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OldFolks

"Not one of us seems to be getting any younger…"

This FollowingChapters Story finds The Muse and I visiting the few remaining OldFolks in our lives.

The Muse and I visit the few remaining elders in her family, exploring our memories and connections. The Muse’s visits to her OldFolks are contrasted with the diminishing number of relatives she has left, including a nun who no longer remembers them and another aunt who shares family stories about her relatives The Muse never knew. We acknowledge the inevitability of becoming OldFolks ourselves, while cherishing the memories and respecting those who shaped their lives. I contemplates the future of family connections as younger generations move away, highlighting the bittersweet nature of these visits and the enduring bonds of love.

Henri Koetser: We Grow Old (c. 1900 - c. 1905)

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SeventyFour

"We dare not ever insist upon sticking to the plan.”

This FollowingChapters Story describes events leading up to my seventy-fourth birthday today.

I celebrate my seventy-fourth birthday by visiting the Bighorn Medicine Wheel in Wyoming, a site The Muse and I long wanted to explore. I reflect on our recent road trip from South Dakota, detailing the long drive across the plains and an unexpected encounter with a stranded motorist named Virginia. After helping her, I gained a deeper appreciation for the region and its people. The Muse and I embraced the unpredictability of our toodle, recognizing that the best experiences often arise from detours and spontaneity, rather than sticking to a rigid plan.


The Bighorn Medicine Wheel (2011) - The rock circle is about 80 feet in diameter, with 28 'spokes' radiating from a central cairn, five cairns around the rim, and a sixth slightly outside the perimeter. — US Forest Service photo.

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FourMoose

"I will remain satisfied having recalibrated the meaning of a truly happy birthday celebration."

This FollowingChapters story finds me recalibrating the means by which truly happy birthdays might be gauged. Thank you for your well-wishes! They worked!

I describe a truly memorable birthday celebrated near Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. Instead of traditional festivities, the day included a hike to the Big Horn Medicine Wheel, where the The Muse and I experienced nature, including multiple moose sightings. Following the hike, the day bookended with a simple picnic lunch and a dinner at a sleezy local sports bar, which added an unexpected twist to the birthday celebration.


John Woodhouse Audubon: Servus alces, Moose Deer. Old male & young (1845-48) — From: The viviparous quadrupeds of North America —- Rare Book Division, The New York Public Library. "Servus alces, Moose Deer. Old male & young." New York Public Library Digital Collections. Accessed August 20, 2025. https://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/38998bd0-c6bd-012f-2ebf-58d385a7bc34

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GhostCow


"…May the GhostCow continue bellowing."

This FollowingChapters Story finds me listening to the heartfelt bellowing of a GhostCow.

This story explores the contrasting realities of America’s past and present, revealing a decline in optimism and belief in collective potential. I discuss the town of Kellogg, Idaho, once prosperous due to mining, now abandoned and showcasing the disparity between wealth and local living conditions. I encounter a distinctive cow, dubbed GhostCow, which symbolizes the voicing of dissent and frustration, paralleling my own feelings about social issues. Traveling has intensified my awareness of these disparities and the historical context of inequality. Ultimately, I emphasize the importance of acknowledging our shared struggles and the need for vocal resistance against injustices, as the cyclical nature of aspiration and failure continues.


Frederic Remington: The Ghost Dance of 1889–1891, depicting the Oglala at Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota, (1890)

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The Muse and I were on the move through this writing week. These stories were written in guest quarters or motel rooms during early Midwest or Mountain Time mornings. Unlike our toodle back east, our return included more than just two-lane blacktop exploring. We also endured Wyoming and Montana's insistence that traffic might reasonably flow at a designated eighty miles per hour, a speed at which I never feel secure. On edge, we punctuated our journey with picnic lunches and two-lane, long cuts over breathtaking mountain passes. This week's stories follow our journey home. While gone, we did our share of Entrancing and spent a FairToMiddling day at a genuine midwestern county fair. We visited the two remaining OldFolks left in The Muse's home country, and I turned Seventy-Four, further decreasing the distance between my youth and becoming an OldFolk myself. We recalibrated the definition of a truly happy birthday by encountering FourMoose and were introduced to a harbinger and provocateur in the form of a GhostCow. Thank you for following along!

©2025 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #FollowingChapters, #PureSchmaltz