Now who would you expect to run into leaving the book and crafts sale at the Community Center of tiny Alden, Michigan, on the southeast, currently snowy shores of Torch Lake?
This morning it was Michael Moore, holding a can of Vernor’s in his hand and telling us it was the best pop art in the place.
Rosey and I have extended an invitation, again, to Michael, who lives up the lake from us, for dinner when he is down south of Clam River with an extra hour or two on his hands. No telling, once he has solved the health care problems of the country, that he might want to turn his attention to the true author of the works which carry the name William Shakespeare on their cover.
Michael, we have a tale of intrigue, genius, power, murder, corruption, and cover up for you all encased in a tale of the fall into oblivion of perhaps western civilization’s most brilliant literary talent, whose works have taken on a name of their own which we continue to call Shakespeare. I can also promise you, Michael, a meal prepared by the culinary genius known as Rosey.
Shakespeare and food by Rosey. Michael, how can you resist?