Edwin Drood All Over

For the love of beer
The perfect place and beverage to share some casual conversation.

If we were having a beer, you would be surprised to see my hat.

“I thought you lost that NASA cap.”

“I did. It blew off into St. Augustine Bay, and NASA had discontinued it.”

“And yet, you’re wearing it today.”

“NASA brought it back. I found it in the store of the Kennedy Space Center website.”

“Is that why you changed your profile picture?”

“No, Christine picked that picture for a post she did about me, so I switched to that one.”

“Hey guys, you look like you need something to drink.”

“I do Cheryl, but not the Meiomi. You had some other stuff that I liked once.”

“One Yuengling and one Fourteen Hands. NASA’s buying today?”

“Yes, in honor of the replacement hat.”

“So, the fact that Cheryl knew what I wanted, even though I didn’t, is that one of those paranormal things you wrote about?”

“That’s always kinda weird, but it’s not an example of the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon, if that’s what you’re thinking of.”

“Isn’t that a terrorist group?”

“Same name, different phenomenon. Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon is that thing where you don’t know about something and then, all of a sudden, you encounter it multiple times.”

“Still, this was pretty weird.”

“It was. I had something similar but weirder, happen to me earlier this week.”

“How much weirder?”

“You decide. I was telling a coworker a story about a time when my wife asked me what I wanted for dinner. I said: ‘do you have the stuff to make that stuff?’ She said: ‘Yes, I do.’ “

For those foodies – this is the casserole.

“What’s the stuff?”

“It’s a casserole made with leftover turkey, noodles, some kind of cream soup and corn.”

“Mmmm, comfort food.”

“Yeah, I love that stuff.”

“OK, that story is ‘as’ weird, but I wouldn’t say weirder.”

“You didn’t let me finish. When I got home from work on the day I told that story, my wife was making that stuff for me for dinner.”

“That’s crazy. So, is that an example of the terrorist thing?”

“No, I’m putting this into the pretty weird coincidence category, but it’s not really Baader-Meinhof – the phenomenon, not the militant group – quality. I mean, technically, I already knew about the stuff.”

“So then, the Edwin Drood story is the only time you’ve experienced the German thing?”

“No, actually, I had that experience a few weeks ago.”

“With the hat. I knew it. The woman picks that photo and you find the hat back in the store.”

“No, that was just a happy coincidence. The experience started in Washington, D.C. when I decided to tour The Building Museum.”

“Why am I not surprised? That sounds like your kind of museum.”

“You would think, but not so much. My $10 entrance fee entitled me to see ‘All’ the exhibits on the first three floors – all two of them.”

“Did you at least get some cool door photos?”

“Not really. I mean I’ll share the main entrance with Norm, but nothing too fancy.

“Cheryl, can I get another glass of this stuff? Young Mr. Meinhof is taking a long time to tell this story.”

“Here you go. Maybe I got here just in time for the story to get interesting.”

“Well, I was about to say that, as I was finishing my self-guided tour, I stumbled upon a window full of bricks.”

“OK, I think I have some customers who need me.”

“This better get interesting, or I’m going to join Cheryl’s other table.”

C.P. Mayer Brick
C.P. Mayer Brick

“As I zoomed in to get a picture of the bricks, I noticed that one brick was from the C.P. Mayer Brick Company in Bridgeville, Pennsylvania. I was born in Bridgeville! I grew up there, but I had never heard about this company.”

“OK, so we’ve met the first condition of the German thing.”

“That was the Friday before Father’s Day. Two days later, one of my gifts was a book about the history of Bridgeville. In a section titled: “Prosperity” the author mentioned the C.P. Mayer Brick Company. Apparently, it had been quite successful and its bricks are still coveted by collectors”

“That’s a little disturbing.”

“Yes, but it’s a good example of the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon.”

“No, I meant the fact that there are people who collect bricks. That’s disturbing.”

Do you have a cherished object? Would you like to share its story with your friends? Maybe make some new friends? Consider joining the Cherished Blogfest – July 29 – 31.


  1. Ha! That last line. Awesome, Dan. You know, I didn’t know there was a name for that phenomenon. I’m so happy I now know. And I can’t wait to be able to use this little tidbit in a conversation.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon…. There’s a name for everything. You’ve made me want a beer — or rather an ale. (Why do I like ale, but beer?) Good thing I went down the hill to the grocery, before it got crowded. Picked up my Belgian ale, Fat Tire. Took me forever to get the name of it straight. I’d be asking Cheryl for “that stuff.” :D Happy Fourth of July weekend. Hugs!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I loved this! The quip and laugh at the end was perfect! Lol The fact that people collect bricks might disturb me as well except that in this house there are tons of collections and no telling what it might be. Of course it has evolved and thinned out iver the years, but we once had a full sized wooden and brass propeller from a WWIi airplane. I took car of it lovingly. My collections tend to tiny things like feathers, crystals, dragobfly wings…..🙄
    BTW that German thing happens to us so often we rather expect it. Lol.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks Cheryl. Propellers can be somewhat large. I was at an air museum yesterday marveling at WWII aircraft. I’m guessing that my daughter doesn’t want any more collections around here.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. I am chuckling, still. And I had one of those phenomenons happen (I am still in confusion) this week. A friend of Mitchell’s went to Manchu-Pichu. I didn’t know that, but yesterday images of it and stories about it keep coming up — a man died yesterday taking a picture, another friend posted an image of it, and while sitting waiting for M’s stitches a story of it was in PEOPLE magazine (or Star, or one of those mags that they have in ER rooms.) Now in my wuju world, these things are signs. I don’t know what this is a sign about, but I will stay away from edges of cliffs, and dead civilizations for awhile… Glad to see you survived the tornado too….

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks Kate. It’s really weird when these things happen. It makes me think that something somewhere is connected to something else. I’d stay away from the edge, too. I’m not sure what to make of the bricks, that seems like an odd thing. We had some short-lived bad thunderstorms, but I don’t think a tornado ever materialized – which is a good thing. Any day without a tornado is a good day. Well, unless it includes a visit to the ER – I hope Mitchell is healing nicely.


  5. I enjoyed your crick most of all. Now and again I venture into areas I once lived and without fail cricks and railroad tracks were important to my childhood. How else would you know the back ways? :)
    Also, I buy the occasional bottle of 14 Hands cab.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks! That crick was a sulfur-laden mess, but we still played near it, in it and invented clever ways to get across without going “all the way” to the nearest bridge, including sliding across a water main that crossed the crick behind our house. Like most things from childhood, I remembered it being wider, deeper and flowing much faster.

      If you like 14 Hands, you might also like Ste. Michelle (our favorite wine). 14 Hands is Owned by Ste. Michelle and for a long time, they only sold 14 Hands wines to restaurants.

      Liked by 1 person

    • The library is pretty nice and I was glad they figured out a use for the station. I remember when they did the caboose as a children’s library. That was pretty cool.


    • Thanks Deborah. That library is pretty cool. I was still a kid when they did the Caboose. A little old but I could still find some books there. I was fascinated by the construction though. These things that happen like this always catch my attention. I think there’s more going on ;)

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Thank goodness you found a replacement for your NASA hat. It’s important to wear something meaningful on your head for the all-important blog photo.

    I wonder if the brick collectors of the world live in brick houses…or build brick sheds for their bricks. I also wonder how brick collectors get started – “Hey, Henry, look at this cool red brick that’s broke in half. I think I’ll take it home and put it on a shelf so our friends can admire it. And then I’ll collect more!”

    Liked by 1 person

    • I could see me doing that. My wife actually has a small collection on old cast iron irons. The NASA hat was my favorite hat and it blew off during a sailboat tour in St Augustine. I tried to replace it but they had stopped selling it :(

      At my wife’s suggestion, I bought two. Now I have a spare :)

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Bridgeville looks like a lovely town – well, except for the brown crick. I don’t think water is supposed to be that colour … and so-help-me-God, I’m going to hold you responsible if *crick* is the first thing out of my mouth the next I refer to a creek ;)

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I liked your Thursday’s Doors’ brick making company from a few weeks ago, Dan. (Sorry, I forget the company’s name).
    Now, I love this building museum part of your “weekly drink with a friend” post; since I like to hear of your happy adventures.
    Your editor and partner for life, knows what you mean when you mention “the stuff” and also, sounds like she shares some ESP waves with you. <3 Two great minds "thinking alike."

    Liked by 1 person

  9. “That’s a little disturbing.”

    “Yes, but it’s a good example of the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon.”

    “No, I meant the fact that there are people who collect bricks. That’s disturbing.”

    My favorite part. Had to laugh.

    Liked by 1 person

Add your thoughts or join the discussion. One relevant link is OK, more require moderation. Markdown is supported.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.