Well, thanks to my new book tour manager, Remo “Wrong Turn” Ronzoni, I am now something of a legend in Hollywood.  Unfortunately, that would be Hollywood, Florida.  (As opposed to that den of antiquity, Hollywood, California!)  I have just returned from a (semi) productive visit to the Sunshine State, and people in the Royal Palms Condominium Association are singing my praises.  Well, some of them are singing.  Most are napping.  The age of the average attendee was somewhere between 75 and the Jurassic Period.  Nonetheless, my lectures were received with great fondness, and some short intervals of snoring.  Since I am sort of a senior, I must dispense with further “age jokes.”  (Mainly because I forgot the punch lines!)

Florida was actually quite lovely this time of year, and I got to introduce one of my grand-daughters to the Atlantic Ocean.  (The poor kid got knocked over by a few waves, but let’s face it, experience is the best teacher.)  On this trip, I was accompanied by both of my own daughters, their husbands and children, and my psychiatrist, Melvin “Mind Games” Moskowitz.  (Let’s face it, folks, you have to be crazy to travel cross-country with a two-year-old!)

I went to Florida to pick up one of my literary awards, and more importantly, to visit my aging mother.  (Miss Hazel is 92 years old!)   We had a wonderful visit, and I was able to show my family the location of my soon-to-be-released mystery novel, CAPONE ISLAND.  Which, believe it or not, is located directly in front of my mother’s house in Boca Raton!  Very cool place, and a wonderful venue for Adam Gold’s next adventure.

By the way, my next history book is coming along great.  I already have all of the page numbers written!

Speaking of books, if you’ve read the first “Adam Gold Mystery,” titled, THE GRACELAND GANG, then you are familiar with the life and legend of Elvis Presley.  Well, guess what?  Today, in Switzerland, they are auctioning off the King’s Omega wristwatch!  This was the watch that was presented to him in February, 1961, to acknowledge his 75,000,000 record sales.  It’s diamond encrusted, but despite being crusty, it’s supposed to fetch a few million bucks.  (I emailed a bid, but I don’t expect to win.  Maybe I should have offered twenty dollars.  Time will tell.)

Before I forget, I’d like to wish all you mothers a Happy Mother’s Day.  Did you know that the ancient Romans (are there any other kind?) started this holiday in 250 B.C.  (Which stands for “Before Christ.”  A.D. stands for “After Dat.”)  They called their spring celebration the feast of Hilaria.  (Which was NOT named in honor of Hilary Clinton, and has nothing to do with being hilarious.)  In America, 1/4 of all flower bouquets are sold on Mother’s Day!  Personally, I don’t send my Mom flowers.  I send her a “congratulations card” for having me.  Oddly enough, she has never thanked me for the cards.

Lest I forget, our best wishes to Barbara and Max Talbott who are vacationing on the Big Island of Hawaii this week.  As I told my friends earlier, you have to go with the flow this week.  Next month they will be going to Teheran, for some sort of bomb shelter festival.  Not to be outdone, the Princess of Portugal and Baron Lee are wondering aimlessly around some sort of Mormon-inspired rock park in Utah.  We, on the other hand, will be spending the next few days at my friend’s cattle ranch in West Texas.  My buddy owns 2,000 head of cattle.  (I have no idea what he did with their bodies.)

Well, since it was Mother’s Day, I splurged for a fancy dinner, and took my dear wife to her favorite barbecue joint.  (A legendary spot called “Stiles Switch,” in Austin.)  We chowed down on some fine vittles, and drank a few beers, and then I showed her a picture of the flowers I intend to buy her after Mother’s Day.  (At a 50 percent discount!)  To prove my love, I will also give her the box of chocolates that I bought her for Valentine’s Day.  Well, actually, I bought the candy last week, but who’s counting days?  I know what you chicks are thinking….. she doesn’t deserve a husband like me!  Who does?

If you wish, you may scroll down and catch a glimpse of yours truly enjoying my beef rib.  (I think my dish was called the “Fred Flintstone Special.”)  Check out the size of that rib!  Definitely a Texas cow.  Moo to you and yours,

Doc Yanoff