I once poked fun at my very young niece and incurred the wrath of her mother. Not that it fazed me at all it's just one of those memoriable interludes which almost got my brothers ass beaten in front of her.
Seem she appeared to have an exceedingly large cranium. Instead of asking her "has Mensa called yet" or something else which may have slipped by I called her 'Frankenbritnee'.
Yes, I caught hell for that. Likely deservedly so, at least that is what those individuals with whom I have discussed the matter tend to lean.
Today is Frankenstein Day.
This annual event on August 30 which corresponds to the birthday of Mary Shelley — that honors both the author and her famous 1818 novel, Frankenstein brings me back to the seventh and eighth grades whereby I became enamoured with monsters and such.
My good friend the late Escoe "Bud" Lloyd Robinson III maintained an interest in horror and indeed became an accomplished illustrator of that genre.
Now he is gone and everything he was has gone with him to his great reward. So today remains that day you may celebrate the author Mary Shelley as well as the book Frankenstein in whatever way you see fit.
Me, I will quietly observe the day and pine for the old days when Escoe was in my midst and rue the fact that I never took the short trip to see him prior to his passing.