My Grand Gaffe

Yesterday, in the delirium of flu-induced fever, I made a mistake in a wireless transmittal. My Grand Gaffe, as it shall now be known, began with idle speculation about a growing fascination with the clockwork world we once knew and loved, with its airship lighthouses, telephonic fog, time levers, Maison tournante aérienne, and steam-powered bidets.

In the midst of my vaporous fugue-state, I said that Mary Russell lived in my revered 19th century. As Master Wells has informed me, a not-yet-famous American canine would have said to this, “Ruh roh!”

There you have it: The first mistake ever made in the aether known as The Twitter.

Mary Russell herself called me out on it, very politely I might add, in order to set the record straight: she was born in 1900 and first met Mister Sherlock Holmes in 1915, well after the Victorian era had concluded.

I then tried again, to no avail, to entice readers the world over to speculate whether we are pining for the clockwork engines of that bygone age.


But my wireless dispatches, sent far and wide, from the Arctic chill of the Romanov Winter Palace, to the sultry climate of distant Siam, have gone but unanswered.

So then, all that this gentleman and scholar can do is simply wait … wait as apologies cover our shrinking globe, and wonder, not for the first time, whether a safari to distant Venus aboard Mister Verne’s projectile (via an space gun, of course) should be in order.

Should my apologies to the astute theologian (and deadly knife-thrower) fall on deaf ears I fear I shall have to take solace on one of these other worlds of our solar system; if not the aforementioned Venus, then perhaps I may find work along the canals of Mars, trading in those hideous eggs, or secluding myself in obtuse Innsmouth on our own globe, a place where no man knows his fate.

Please, Mary Russell, if you see this, forgive my arrogance in the aether.

I am, sincerely, your faithful servant.

Mister K. Parker

Copyright 2012 © Alan Keith Parker.  All Rights Reserved.

7 thoughts on “My Grand Gaffe

  1. teramis

    Eloquent. Perhaps a useless plea, but eloquent.
    I think, my dear chap, that you are ripe for excusions into darker climes. I shall impart more via secret message. Prepare your lemon juice and a brightly burning candle.
    More soon.

  2. David Appenzellar

    Why do I get the feeling you were aboard that craft that traveled inside a human. Forgive me for not remembering the name of the craft or show but it is one of those fogs in my brain from my childhood. I know my brother would remember but rather late to call him as he knew all about Dark Shadows as well. And as much as I could easily have Googled it, in writing a response to times and places gone by, using the modern cheat just wouldn’t feel right. The same feeling was had in Mr. Swanson’s Civics class in 9th grade. If you had an A going into the final you had the option of taking the final test or finding answers to obscure questions: who invented aluminum foil and paperclips. So off to the library we went during class and digging in encyclopedias and any book we thought relevant. But a few astute students found you could call the reference desk at the public library. I would never thought and hope that the internet replaces the printed word.

    1. David Appenzellar

      Never replaces the printed word. It was days that post didn’t post by accident and auto correct doesn’t come close to what I am thinking. But I admit to using Kindle to download a preview to your book. SoI guess it has its place in time just as your travels and ability to share that with others. Which brings me back to my beginning of the show that took you where no man has gone. Oh good grief perhaps that was Star Wars. I was busy watching Emergency 31 and Adam 12 and on Sunday evenings The Wonderful World of Disney.

      1. I don’t think the Internet is replacing the book, but it is augmenting it, sometimes for good, sometimes for ill. I own a Kindle and pimp my two books through Kindle Direct Publishing, but I also aspire to be get a story or stories into traditional print again. In fact, my goal this year is to submit stories to Asimov’s, The MF&SF, Analog, and Hitchcock’s.

        I remember Mr. Swanson’s classes well, and I miss that kind of academic scavenger hunt. He still teaches at HHS, by the way. My nephew is one of his students.

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