In 1973 I was vice president of a small leasing company, but a closeted writer all the same.\u00a0 I made a great living leasing trucks, cars, heavy equipment and even once a herd of cows, but I was longing for creative expression in my life.\u00a0 A year or so earlier I had begun to dabble in children\u2019s literature, with a variety of limited successes.\u00a0 All of those creative endeavors were heavily dependent on the efforts or lack thereof of publishers.\u00a0 With Robin James as my primary illustrator I had sent samplings of my work to a few New York, mainstream publishers.<\/p>\n
While I impatiently waited for responses to my works, I continued my daily chores of meeting with clients regarding their equipment needs.<\/p>\n
I had over the years developed a working relationship as a copywriter with a major Northwest advertising company, Cole and Weber as a secondary release for the creative energies that chaotically tugged at my imagination.\u00a0 In late 1973 Cole and Weber had the Space Needle as one of their clients, and with the downturn of Seattle\u2019s economy due to Boeing\u2019s financial suffering, the Space Needle was suffering a sag in folks willing to spend money to ride an elevator to look at the views.\u00a0 Late one Thursday afternoon I received a call from Nadine Pasnik, the Cole and Weber account executive in charge of the Space Needle account.\u00a0 She had scheduled a gathering of local business and civic leaders to discuss ways to improve the Space Needle\u2019s local appeal, but several of her invitees had bailed at the last minute.\u00a0 She asked, as a favor, if I could attend in their stead, to help fill the conference table, so to speak.<\/p>\n
And so it was that late Friday afternoon I drove down to the offices of Cole and Weber and sat in on the casual conference.\u00a0 During the discussions I stayed fairly mute as a variety of ideas were bantered about.\u00a0 As was my custom from grade school into adult life when confronted with bits of boredom, I let my mind wander and daydreamed about a bevy of ideas, concoctions, and other inventions. Ever since grade school I have always compulsively raised my hand, in the fear of not being included, and as the meeting began to break up with final thoughts from the participants I leaped into the breach.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, coincidently,\u201d I muttered from my end of the long conference table, \u201cI have just written a children\u2019s book about the Space Needle.\u201d\u00a0 And there it was!\u00a0 I had my foot stuck firmly in my mouth.\u00a0 I had NOT written a story about the Space Needle and, if the truth be known, hadn\u2019t even considered the possibility.<\/p>\n
\u201cFantastic,\u201d Nadine said, \u201cwhat\u2019s it called?\u201d<\/p>\n
I paused, my mind racing but the only word I could think of was wheedle.\u00a0 \u201cThe book is called, uh, Wheedle on the Needle.\u201d\u00a0 Relieved that I had survived I began to pull the foot from my mouth, but oh no, it was not to be.<\/p>\n
\u201cWheedle on the Needle,\u201d she mused brightly, \u201cwhat\u2019s it about?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUh, well, uh it\u2019s a story about an uh\u2026\u201d My eyes frantically searched the conference room for a clue. The only glimmer of hope was laying on a coffee table \u2013 a magazine whose cover story was about a recent Sasquatch sighting in the Cascade foothills.\u00a0 \u201c\u2026a bigfoot creature called the Wheedle that lives on the Space Needle!\u201d<\/p>\n
You would think that would have been enough to get me off the hook\u2026 but oh, no!<\/p>\n
She pressed on wanting to know more about the story.<\/p>\n
Heart pounding in my throat, I muttered, \u201cbetter than telling you the story why don\u2019t I bring you a copy of it to read.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGreat idea!\u00a0 Can\u2019t wait to read it and see some of the illustrations,\u201d she beamed. \u201cHow about Monday morning over coffee?\u201d<\/p>\n
Trapped in a rusty cage of my own construction, I slammed the gate closed and firmly locked it. \u201cThat will work fine.\u201d\u00a0 I muttered.\u00a0 \u201cThat will work just fine!\u201d<\/p>\n
Dead man walking, I got back into my car and sat there for a twenty minutes or so, my heart pounding trying to figure out how I was going to get out of this mess.\u00a0 I sighed, wanting nothing more than to take the foot that had been ensconced in my mouth and place a large boot on it and put it to good and painful personal use.<\/p>\n
In agonizingly slow traffic I drove north through Seattle and just before the University Bridge looked off to my left at the Space Needle, it\u2019s red light blinking in the dusk of a dying November day.\u00a0 What ever was I going to do?\u00a0 I had but two days to write a story and somehow get illustrations from Robin for a story that had nothing more than a title. As I drove on I began to daydream, to mind-munch on what little I had given myself to craft a story: a furry, big-footed creature that lives on the Space Needle.<\/p>\n
That evening I didn\u2019t discuss my situation with my family, simply muddled my way through the night.\u00a0 Early the next morning, 3:00 or so, I got up and padded barefoot out to the dining room table.\u00a0 I carefully unlatched my Smith Corona, removed the stash of typing paper and plugged it in, the gentle electric buzz a familiar and soothing sound.\u00a0 I rolled in a piece of paper and took a deep breath.\u00a0 I sat there for a moment and then placed my fingertips on the cool plastic keys, exhaled, and then watched as letter-by-letter, word-by-word the story began to flow.<\/p>\n
All the while during the next few hours the blinking red light of the Space Needle matched pulse with my heart as I told a story filled with the essence of then Seattle; where problems were solved with cooperation and invention.<\/p>\n
What I wrote that morning was literally what you see today \u2013 a simple story about a misunderstood creature that just wanted to get some sleep.\u00a0 As I was wrapping the primary part of the story my daughter, Jennifer, toddled out of bed, nearly scaring me out of wits and back to the reality of life.<\/p>\n
She looked up at me brown eyes open wide.\u00a0 \u201cAre you writing a new story?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYup,\u201d I said picking her up and plopping her onto my lap.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s it about?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
Before a scary question now one I was well prepared to answer. \u201cIt\u2019s about a furry creature with a big red nose called the Wheedle that lives on the top of the Space Needle.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe really lives there?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
And with her trapped between my arms I recited as I wrote:<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
There\u2019s a Wheedle on Needle<\/p>\n
I know just what you\u2019re thinking.<\/p>\n
But if you look up late at night<\/p>\n
You\u2019ll see his red nose blinking!<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Robin, ever the best of best, met with me Sunday morning.\u00a0 I read her the finished story and ever the trooper she was and is illustrated the very first drawing of the Wheedle.\u00a0 Almost the same as he looks today \u2013 except in this first picture his fur wasn\u2019t orange, it was green.<\/p>\n
AND\u2026 On Monday as promised I went back to Cole and Weber and read the story to Nadine and the rest simply melts into yet another Story Behind the Stories.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Post Note:<\/p>\n
The original Wheedle on the Needle was wrapped in the back-story of a wonderful place called Seattle.\u00a0 The Wheedle\u2019s nose blinking from high atop this marvelous icon is a reminder that Seattle is a place where good things happen to good people as they work together.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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