It was a good day on Friday. I started the day with breakfast at my favorite coffee shop with some favorite coffee guys, then traveled up to Pierson’s, the new restaurant in Harbor Springs, and had a blast working with some folks over the lunch hours. To top off the day I volunteered at the Brother Dan’s Fish Fry scooping macaroni and cheese, which to many a regular is like candy. Finally, Christine wants to go to dinner but we can’t decide where and end up at the New York; however, instead of a table we sit at the bar and all hell breaks loose. A couple who had purchased two of my books, “Writing with Hemingway at City Park Grill,” asked me to sign their copies. One was for the widow of Hunter Thompson. Wow! Hunter Thompson. It was moments after that I became a shadow of the great journalist. Our quiet at the bar turned into a parade of people talking to me, to us, and wanting my, our, attention. Within those meandering conversations, Christine became more and more reticent, and all I wanted was to have fun. I mean, isn’t that why people choose to sit at the bar? After all, it was her choice. Never liked the bar and now I know why. People were gracious, kind, and complimentary. All they wanted to do was have a good time as well. Suddenly I was not. We finished. I drove and the free-flowing night turned into paste. Hunter Thompson. Part of his life story is wrestling with fame and the counter-culture he helped begin and ratify through his writing. In my little microcosm within Emmet County, I guess my paradox becomes more one-sided. I have become a character in life and people like characters – good and bad. Wow. First my books are in the library of the Hemingway family living on Walloon Lake, and now my books will become part of the Hunter Thompson household. It was a good day.