Malcolm J. Thornwhistle, of the Down Hampton Thornwhistles, was a world renown professional Yelp reviewer – specializing in critiquing the use of plastic cutlery for Christmas dinner table settings. Before that, he was best known as one of the earliest explorers of the upper reaches of the mighty St. Joseph River. According to his unpublished memoirs, Malcolm’s fourth voyage took him as far upstream as Mendon (known by the local indigenous people as, “Fish-In-A-Barrel-Place”).

During that expedition, his 9.9 horse power Mercury outboard motor (with electric start and Command Thrust) pushed the bow of Malcolm’s flat-bottom Jon boat against the river’s steadily moving current. As he slogged his way upstream into unexplored territory, near the fabled ancient Roman village of Constantine, Malcolm came upon a solitary man standing along the edge of a lowland, back-water, mosquito infested, muck basin.

Being the ever-vigilant explorer, Malcolm noticed the man was oblivious to his presence and was holding a military grade LED flashlight while peering intently into the deep swamp.

“Ahoy,” Malcolm called out to the lone observer (because the term “s’up” had yet to be coined). The man at the edge of the swamp either failed to notice, or chose to ignore Malcolm. “I say,” Malcolm continued, undeterred, “Ahoy, there.”

“Shhhhhh…” the man eventually responded to Malcolm in a brusque tone.  “I’m searching.”

“My apologies, my good man,” Malcolm maintained his polite society training, as he continued to obstruct the man’s mission.

“My name ain’t Goodman,” the man replied in a calm, measured, and thickly accented voice from the Sarcastic Region of Greece. “It’s Diogenes. Ralph Diogenes. If you don’t shut up, you’re going to scare him away.” With that, Diogenes (better known by Cynics everywhere, as Really Weird Ralph) went back to staring intently into the murky depths of the swamp.

Malcolm’s sense of discovery overpowered his genteel upbringing, causing him to continue questioning Ralph about the purpose of his search. “So,” Malcolm tried to speak in his softest, quietest, golf-announcer voice, “I’m an explorer. I’m looking for things, too. What are you looking for?”

Frustrated, Diogenes abandoned his search and made his way to the river’s edge – while shining the 20,000 lumen beam of his tactical flashing into the eyes (and, subsequently, deep into the soul) of Malcolm. “I’m searching,” Really Weird Ralph explained, “to find an honest politician.”

Malcolm turned his head at a quizzical angle, much like a child trying to figure out how Grandpa just magically remove the end of his thumb.

“I’ve looked in every swamp, bog, back-water, marsh, bayou, and mud puddle this side of the Potomac River,” sighed Ralph. “I can’t find an honest politician, anywhere.”

“Perhaps you aren’t looking in the right places,” offered Malcolm. “Have you tried turning over any rocks?”

“I’ve looked under rocks, around the next bend, even behind cans that were recently kicked down the road. I can’t find a single one of the elusive critters. I even Googled who said, ‘Do it for yourself instead of expecting me to do it for you.’ I’m beginning to think I would have better luck hunting unicorns. At least, everyone knows they are real.”

“Wish I could help you out, friend,” Malcolm offered. “But, I have a little search going on, myself.”

“Ah yes,” Diogenes replied, cynically. “You mentioned something about being an explorer. “What is it, that you seek?”

“The perfect fishin’ hole,” Malcolm answered with a relaxed grin.

“Yours is a far nobler search than mine,” acknowledged Ralph, as he clicked off  his flashlight tractor beam. “May I join you?”

Larry Wilson is a mostly lifelong resident of Niles. His essays stem from experiences, compilations and recollections from friends and family. He can be reached at wflw@hotmail.com