I’m fascinated with history. I once took up smoking cigars because I was so taken by the image of some of the great men of history bending over map tables, stogie firmly clamped between their teeth while carving up nation states and changing the very course of human civilization. The power embodied in that captivated me. I got it into my head that I would actually better understand these men and their places in history if I too lit up (and, I thought it might give me a certain roguish appeal with the ladies). As it turns out, there aren’t a whole lot of ladies out there attracted to guys turning green, coughing, then puking, all while trying to discuss the intricacies of the Bismarckian alliance system.

I have, however, found a more useful and rewarding connection with history that holds little likelihood of my regurgitating the contents of my stomach while talking about Sykes-Picot or the Treaty of Versailles. Yes, I’m referring to fountain pens. Every time I pick one up I feel like I have history in my hand. The weight, the deliberateness of the writing, the flow of the ink…it transports me to another time. As useful as my laptop is, give me a stack of thick, woven paper, a bottle of ink, and my fountain pen, and you can keep the cigar.

I popped into the grocery store on my way home from B&N tonight to pick up some bananas and a bagel and made the mistake of paying with cash. My total came to a whopping $2.02 and of course, I didn’t have two cents on me. Some places will let the two cents slide, but my winning smile must have been on the blink because I wound up jingling all the way home.

I’m a coffee drinker for the most part, but I grew up drinking tea. My mother got me on to it as a kid and I find I always reach for a hot tea whenever I’m not feeling well or just want something soothing and not as aggressive as coffee. Last weekend I found a tea that I thought would fit the bill – apple cinnamon. I mean, it’s got apples and cinnamon in it! That’s like one of the greatest duos in history. Sadly, when mixed with black tea leaves the partnership just doesn’t work. It’s like this confused hot mess of cider, tea, and liquid apple pie. Sounds like it should work, but it doesn’t (er, maybe it doesn’t sound like it should work now that I think about it more, but in the store the thought of liquid apple pie seemed appealing). On the other hand, a friend put me on to almond tea which has no actually tea leaves in it and hence, no caffeine, and wow, she knew what she was talking about. Almond tea is amazing. The kicker, however, is that while you can find apple cinnamon tea, the almond tea appears to have been discontinued.

No, I’m not talking about an Italian restaurant, but about the large outdoor/hunting/fishing/camping chain of stores here in the US. These stores are amazing and feature restaurants, oodles of clothing for every outdoor occasion (except perhaps a wedding or funeral…although maybe not,) weapons, ponds filled with live fish, and even a museum of sorts. It’s the last part that might create a bit of queasiness as you roam the aisles, because everywhere you look in a Cabela’s, dead animals are looking back. Observe…

I have this funny feeling I’m being watched.

This is how horror movies start.

We have two items on the menu today – meat…

…and wood.

I get the same feeling at the Museum of Natural History here in New York where there are hundreds of dead and stuffed animals placed in dioramas simulating their natural environments which they would have been in if not for being killed, shipped thousands of miles away, gutted, stuffed and finally mounted in a climate controlled museum. I know my ambivalence is showing. On the one hand I am fascinated by the displays and understand the reasoning behind them, much of it quite laudatory in trying to save and preserve the species and their natural habitat. On the other hand, it’s hard not to feel sorrow at the knowledge that these gorgeous creatures were cut down in what appears to be the prime of their lives. I know, I know, what about cows and tuna and turkeys and the rest of the arc that make up our grocery stores? Like I said, ambivalence.

The end result is that I’m as intrigued with my own reaction as I am with the store itself. As a writer, I like that.

Both grandfathers that I knew (long story, but there was at least one other) served during the Second World War. Both grandmothers worked in munitions factories at the same time. They’re gone now, but never far from my thoughts, especially today.

You may know that in addition to being an author and an editor I am a trained military historian. I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have traveled overseas several times with veterans to visit the battlefields with them. It seems appropriate today to share a couple of photos from those trips.