My son, Eddie, an artist, a rock musician, and a song writer, was so darned sensitive that life bounced his heart around like it was a dime-store basketball.

Dode Schneider wasn't right in the head even before that snowplow hit him

Pokey’s Tavern and Pool Hall served a light lunch. Men hung out there, mostly playing cards and hiding from their wives. Women weren’t welcome to hang inside unless they were jezebels, or hard-drinkers, preferably both.

What would you do if someone was blackmailing you?”“Wish them luck. I ain’t got nothing.”--Daisy Pettles, Shady Hoosier Detective Agency Book 2Baby Daddy Mystery