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What do You, Me and Mr. Paul K. Miller have in Common? You would possibly know Paul. I don't. But via fate I got here to know some issues about him; enough to have some questions. But interestingly I discovered that Mr. Miller and also you and I have something very a lot in common. But first a bit of background on Paul. Paul grew up on a farm. He had an older brother and a youthful sister. His father was a generic farmer doing a bit of this and a bit of that. He had some cows and several other horses. And a giant tractor. Paul knew concerning the farm and how you can work it. He grew up on one. Mama came from a German household and was robust as nails. But had a laugh that may not quit. Not the one to shrink back, she would mount her horse in her dress. Like most German mothers she grew in girth as she aged. She managed to work all day on her farm and eat a number of her very scrumptious country cooking. Paul's favourite aunt was Sallie. Sallie most definitely was born around 1890 and dressed it. She had the clearest of German eyes and a face showing a coronary heart of gold. Ma and pa prospered and ultimately bought a brick home on the town; in all probability sold the farm to a subdivision. Paul's dad traded in his horse for a bicycle and when Old Spot died they purchased a French poodle. The household grew however older brother and younger sister mysteriously pale from Paul's life. Paul was a piano participant and moved to the big metropolis. San Francisco? One can only imagine what it will need to have been like. Country Mouse going to the Big City. Paul was younger and Paul was handsome and Paul might play that piano. Paul was not going again to any farm. And Paul was charismatic. Customers loved his attraction and humorous hats that he wore with his tuxedo. And he was good trying. He had a series of promo portraits taken; some were composites of his portrait with his arms on the piano keys. Paul loved to party however it was unclear if he appreciated the ladies. Therein lies a part of his mystique. On scattered images we looked for rings however it was unclear; Paul wore a ring on his marriage ceremony finger but it surely didn't appear to be a standard type of male wedding ceremony ring. Paul turned higher recognized and was invited to play at swankier clubs and events. Always a enjoyable man, Paul began to drink and was such enjoyable when tipsy. He could play and drink all night. The celebration hosts cherished him. Financially occasions have been good. There was the retreat house in the mountains...type of a Mediterranean villa within the hills. A small river ran close by and Paul cherished to come and spend time enjoyable and consuming. Hard to inform just how much a problem for him drinking was...he in all probability did not admit to much. As the years went buy he grew to become more famous and took some up to date promotional shots. The years were not so type but then once more Paul stayed up most nights working and ingesting so what could one count on? And then, it is as if time stopped. It abruptly ended right then and there. All that was left was the picture of a burnt piano in what appears to be like like to be a burned out nightclub. Was Paul burned to death? Did he die at his piano? Where did his brother and sister go? It most certainly seems that Paul is now dead. I cannot make sure and a Google of his title turned up nothing of significance aside from there are lots of Paul Millers in the world. Perhaps I won't ever know if he died a natural dying or burned up in a nightclub tragedy. The man I purchased the picture album from didn't know both. He stated it was odd, especially the picture of the burnt piano. Five bucks. For five bucks I'll take an opportunity and see what I may find out. But it got here to a useless finish. I doubt Paul would have ever imagined his pale blue photograph album could be bought by a complete stranger at a swap meet for 5 bucks. Therein lies the connection between you, me and him. One day you and I will die...or at least you will, ha. And after we do, what is going to turn out to be of our stuff? Will our descendents treasure the photographs from their ancestors or see them as junk? Will they take your photos and your stuff all the way down to the native swap meet and promote them to whole strangers like many individuals do? Probably so, is my conclusion. There's no assure what kind of progeny you will have if in actual fact you do have kids. If you don't have youngsters, rest assured your stuff will find yourself on the flea market and thrift store. So you might wish to make some easy plans and simplify your stuff in advance. If you go abruptly odds are your surviving kinfolk will divvy up what they need and Goodwill what they do not. And somebody like me will probably be going by your pictures trying to attach the dots...
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