Farewell, Dr. Electro

+ A Tycho Brahe Nighthawk

Volume 60, August 8th, 2023 Published a day early online

Farewell, Dr. Electro

(For now)

“Well, that’s not Admiral Blue...that’s like...Concord Grape.” A long time ago, Home Depot messed up the second can of paint, and my home office wound up purple. Serves me right for painting in low light. A buddy saw the bizarre room, and joked if I was working on the next Poe story.

“YES!” So the idea for Dr. Electro was born: A serial story, Sherlock Holmes meets Nikola Tesla, with a dash of Monty Python. Words to entertain, but not to chafe. There’s enough fluff, darkness, and ick on TV already.

The first round was so much fun, “Season 2” had to happen. Of course, it turned into a bit of a fable. Did you catch how Lady Wilkes’ stolen gem’s value is the sentimental? How the villain is destroying what matters, replacing it with dystopian simplicity?

COVID taught me the preciousness of the everyday: A hug, a smile, a hearty handshake. Kitty Kallen sang it best. “Little things mean a lot.”

They make us human.

Dr. Electro is patterned after me—and you. Season 2 is over, but I reckon he’ll be back.

Construction starts

on Tycho Brahe’sObservatory & Alchemy Lab this day, 1576. Built before telescopes, it housed precision instruments, and even a jail cell!

Down the Rabbit Hole

He once got so worked up over a math problem, he challenged his third cousin to a duel..and lost his nose. (The prosthetic was gold.)

He kept his alchemical findings secret. You’ve got to look up Tycho Brahe.

Quote of the Week

“What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.”

—Charles Bukowski

Book of the Week

The Road Less Traveled (M. Scott Peck)

Psychology, philosophy, and practical ideas for living blend in this 1978 best-seller. While you’re at it, cue up some Robert Frost.

Garden Harvest

Lemon cucumbers with green and black peppers grace today’s basket on long mountain. The squash bugs have done a number on the pumpkins, but the tide is turning.

Write to Us!

The Nighthawk is a new old-fashioned way to connect, published weekly. You’re invited to write back, or just enjoy reading. Let’s have some fun! It’s a social paper! Send stories, etc to: PO Box 783, Rustburg, VA 24588 or email Joshurban@protonmail.com

Letters from Josh

(A weekly update from Josh Urban’s adventures on the farm and in the city. #146)

Howdy, folks! Previously on Dr. Electro: With a mighty crash, the tarot van splinters through the tunnel door, skidding to a halt in the courtyard. The crowd there cheers, elated to see their friends returned from the depths of the evil lair. Ordinary Man tries to slink away, but is collared by Rutherford, and makes a speech.

“If the Wisdom of the ages ever made a mistake, we’ll replace it with the latest infallible Progress. I sense an era approaching where I won’t even have to try. You’ll discard these things all of your own accord. Don’t say I didn’t call it. You’ll beg for easy answers, and punish those who differ.”

The police officer loses his patience, and shoves the blustering Ordinary Man into the paddy wagon. This is...

The Return of Dr. Electro #37: The Westbound

“And good riddance!” The man stood with his back to Electro, waving at the departing paddy wagon. “I’ll send you a book to read in jail. There’s a fitting one by Boethius.”

“DAD!” Electro cried. “How did you get out? That was quite a maze in the house.”

“You’ve got some resourceful friends, son. Jimmy the trucker rammed a door. Caught that weird Deluder fellow and a bunch of henchmen. They just shipped them off.”

Calm settled back onto the block. The onlookers well, I nevered themselves homeward, muttering about the decline of the neighborhood, gradually switching to the topic of the weather and dinner, as onlookers always do.

The original gang, reunited in Lady Wilkes’ yard, shuffled thoughtfully towards the waiting porch. Stories would come over coffee. For now the relieved hush of safety and daylight was punctuated by Preacher kicking a pebble as they went.

The strong brew, served by a wondering Claire, refreshed spirits and added height to the tales, although the truth sounded tall enough. The comforting hum of friends talking after a job well done filled the porch.

“So how did you fall into his basement?” “What was he up to?” “The basement was big enough?” “You said there were underground warehouses?” “No...!” “Junior, where did you get to?”

Electro leaned back with a smile. An autumn breeze blew a single red leaf onto his shoe, clouding his face. Rutherford slipped into a chair next to him.

“What’s the matter, old chap? Aren’t you glad it’s over?”

“Well...Ordinary Man was just getting started. I don’t think he’s the only one. The shadows that chased us to Miss Stella’s, the mysterious signals by the railroad...I’m still befuddled about the whole aim.” A distant train whistle floated on the wind. “And I have to get home.”

“We’ll be glad to help you.” Charlotte leaned in. “Let’s leave at dusk. I’ve been listening, and I agree. Something’s afoot. I have a feeling it will be going on for a long, long time. Best be careful. Hey, uh...nice job back there, by the way.”

Rutherford’s raised eyebrow lowered quickly from Electro’s nudge.

“Thanks, Charlotte. Not so bad yourself. Say, have you ever read The Odyssey? Oh no. What day is it? My copy will be overdue at the library.” Electro stumbled on his words, Rutherford’s eyebrow went back up, and Charlotte laughed that smoky, warrior laugh.

“Relax, buddy. Wait till dusk and the westbound.”

This concludes “The Return of Dr. Electro”, Season 2 of the story. Thanks for reading!