The Portly Farmer

--Warren Asa

In the 1980s Mike started to sign off his correspondences with "Your portly farmer." I saw a chance for a practical joke and penned a letter from a fictitious person that went something like this:

"Dear Mr. Rubel,
I am a wholesaler of rare fruits and have been seeking a source of portlies for some time. Will you please send a gross of your best fruit."

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I had friends in Northern California mail the letter. When Mike received it he knew it was a joke but decided to play along. He wrote:

"Dear so and so,
As you know portlies are difficult to cultivate, but I do have a supply on hand. To preserve their flavor I wrap them in gold foil and sell them for $1,000 each."

My friend sent me Mike's letter and my reply was as follows.

"We know there was a crop failure in Bangladesh and that portlies are expensive at this time but $1,000 is more than we are prepared to pay. Would you accept $250 each for your portlies? Please advise"

Mike figured the joke had run its course and didn't reply. For years he wondered who was behind the hoax. I finally told him it was me, but I'm not sure he believed me. Well, as Mike often said, "Never bore people with the truth."

The Castle Sitters

Some years back Mike went to Europe for six weeks and Mary Jeanne and I castle sat. Mike had mail drops so we sent him a weekly report that usually read, "Dogs, chickens and Pharm hands are all well. Love,  M.J.A  - W.J.A.

Then there was an earthquake which made the papers and we figured that Mike would read about it. Our next report was much longer.

"Dear Mike,
Don't believe everything you read about the quake in Glendora. With work parties every Saturday and Sunday until you return you will hardly see any damage. However, the fire was another matter. Wood shingles were a bad idea. Water used to put out the fire did cause some damage, but we are working with a paper conservator to save as many books, photos and records as possible. Other than that all is well. Love, Mary  Jeanne and Warren.

You might wonder if there was any damage. A few dishes fell but not a single castle rock was dislodged.

Mykee Ruined the Maypole Dance

One Saturday morning over 30 years ago a small group of adults came wandering through. They had no guide and seemed confused as to who had built this odd place. I told an elderly lady, who seemed to be the matriarch of the group that Mike Rubel had built the castle. She thought a bit and said, "I know a Dorothy Rubel" and I answered "That is Michael's mother."

Just then Mike walked out of the Troll House and started chatting with the lady. She asked if he had been in her kindergarten class and he said he had. Then she asked if he was the one who messed up their May Pole dance and Mike answered in the affirmative. They chatted on while I tried to digest the story.

Everyone knows that Mike has always marched to a different drummer than the rest of society. But I was amazed that he had started at such an early age. Had he ruined the May Pole dance to gain attention? Probably not as he was clever enough to get plenty of that. Did he do it to be mean? Definitely not because Mike was not mean. I believe he simply felt that the others could go around the pole the way the teacher told them, but that he would march to his own drum beat.