At the risk of sounding maudlin I’d like to give thanks for a few things.

All of those authors over the years who have given me so much pleasure and continue to do so. All the people in my life, living or dead who have improved it, knowingly or unknowingly. An unselfish nature sometimes leaves a fine legacy and I’ll probably be placing a rose on a grave or two this coming week. And in this venue I’d like to express my thanks that Ray is still bounding about—with walker or chair; doesn’t matter—and although he may be in a wrinkled old suit (as he might say), in his eyes you can still see some of Douglas Spaulding gazing out. And he’s not selfish. He shares him.

Chapter 31--Nothing maudlin there. That sounded wonderful to me.

I share a Thanksgiving wish for Ray, also. F451 changed my life, turning a non-reader into a person driven by ideas. I'm thankful for his writing and for his influence on my life, and I'm also thankful he is so unselfish with his person and time. What a great man!

How has Ray inspired me......did I ever tell you about the laziest writer in the world. Wonderful intentions, I mean with the greatest intentions while driving or stuck in a daze at work - these thoughts of a perfect story, character or situation come to mind - but - where are the writings? a few. Some good, some not so good. But where are the writings? Did I also tell you what a good story this lazy writer could tell of these wonderful tales. Work in progress. A day unfolds into a night - a night slips into early morning and - no writings. A poem here and there, a short story thrown in and many ideas, many many wonderful ideas - half done. Well I have to tell you that writer is me! Oh, how I would love to have the drive to be up every morning like Bradbury and let it all out - rain or shine - a routine as much as a morning paper and coffee. Or as prolific as King - the shear volume of writing is staggering. As long lasting as Shakespeare or as perverse as Poe. All I see is finished product. The determination, the style, the method of thought from pen to paper, finger to keyboard is all a matter of semantics. Again, my intentions are honhourable if not ambitious but the scary part is when I do write and my writing clicks I have great satisfaction. The key, I guess, is to make the writing the dinner bell and me the drooling Pavlawvian dog. Still I'm no Mr. Bradbury - but I can dream......

Interesting thoughts, Peter James Billing.

It’s almost Thanksgiving, at least here in the States. To all of you, everywhere; may your pantries be full. And if you have no pantries, or little or nothing to put in them, my thoughts are especially of you. You are not forgotten.

....and at Thanksgiving, like ours in October, it is a time to reflect and take inventory of all we are thankful for and for those precious few we hold dear. My message to one and all is to hold tight to those moments, those memories and create new and wonderful ones and if your thanksgiving is like that of a scene from Jerry Springer go outside and yell as loud as you can for you are the sane one that wants no part. To all those in a setting like that of a Norman Rockwell picture or a Trisha Romance enjoy but remember it is the ones you love and love to be around that make this oh so special!

Well said.

Thanksgiving in October. What a great idea.

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

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I love the smell of turnips in the morning.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO EVERYONE

Photo of Ray in Palm Springs several weeks ago, at a luncheon for science teachers. He was, of course, the guest speaker. (Hah! Closest photo I could find looking something like a Thanksgiving setting!)

25_Ray_at_table.JPG (150 Kb, 14 downloads) Ray at Luncheon

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all
On Bradbury boards both great and small

A Thanksgiving prayer that "Farewell, Summer" includes descriptions of those holidays most neglected in Bradbury-land, Thanksgiving and Christmas!

(Anyone notice how "Calvin and Hobbes" dwells on the sort of winter scenes Bradbury hardly mentions?)

dandelion....explain, I'm intrigued!Expound, speak - spew forth.....

Ray has always inspired me.
Our second book is out, and it's all his fault...No links, no cheap promo, just a big thanks!
Robert M. Blevins

Well, I haven't finished my story classification breakdown by setting, let alone season, but over twenty years ago I spoke to Ray by phone and noted that of hundreds of stories, perhaps three dealt with winter and Christmas and asked why was that? I remember having all kinds of fun as a kid in winter and so, no doubt, does Watterson, the cartoonist of "Calvin and Hobbes." With his vast enjoyment of life, did Ray find nothing to enjoy in the winter? About all he had to say in reply was, "It was cold."

Look at a holiday masterpiece such as "A Christmas Story," which takes place only one state away from where Ray lived as a kid, and think what he could do with the material of Thanksgiving and Christmas. (I admit to not having read the biography through yet--for shame!--just picked at it, so don't know if this is covered, but my personal theory is that Christmas was ruined for Ray by growing up in the Depression and receiving "practical" gifts of clothing instead of toys.) But did he have NO fun sledding, skating, or building snow forts, not to mention imagining fearsome snow monsters? I can scarce imagine it!

To the gang at the RB Discussion Board:

Seeing as Thanksgiving has passed and carried off the last leaves of autumn with it, I shouldn't wait any longer to share with you my very happy experience last Halloween.

This October, I moved from Florida to Indiana, and Halloween weekend provided the perfect occasion to make my long anticipated pilgrimage to Waukegan.

The fall colors were at their peak, and I had a wonderful time visiting the Bradbury sites, from the Bradbury family houses to the Ravine, from the Union Cemetary to the Lake.

Wayne Munn, president of the Carnegie Preservation Project, was kind enough to give me a tour of the Carnegie Library. Afterward, he published an op-ed in the Waukegan News Sun about my visit. If interested, you can find it at http://www.suburbanchicagonews.com/newssun/opinions/letters/w10munn.htm.

The weekend could hardly have been better. Waukegan has changed a lot since 1933, but the spirit of Ray Bradbury still lives in Green Town.

A belated Happy Halloween--

Dr. Patrick Mullins