I bought two suits in 2020
The promise of getting a new job
Things didn’t work out that way
And they stood in my closet
Waiting for a chance to do their thing
Now, I’ve worn them out
I lost sixty pounds from when I bought them
They fit me better now
I keep track of how often they go
To sad events or happy ones
Unfortunately, the score isn’t even
It’s been a hard five years
The door slammed and her words rang. He sat there on his couch, staring at the cooling, dimming TV. He saw his reflection there. The bulge of his stomach. The stains on his t-shirt. The five day stubble that hurt to shave.
She had left, calling him a loser. Telling him that she had fallen out of love with him. That he had no direction. Nowhere to go. His heart ached. Maybe that was his high choleric diet or maybe it was the heartbreak. Who could say. He hadn’t been to a doctor in years.
He sat there for a long time. He took a deep breath. He thought about getting up and going to his fridge and getting a beer. He thought about ordering a pizza and drowning his sorrows in a night of video games. But the shock to his system was rippling through him. He had lost her because of nights like that. Maybe it was time to change.
He thought about doing some situps or pushups. But his floor was covered in garbage and clothing. He reached an impasse in his life. He could sit and become a fungus on his own catch or he could get up and make a change. He thought about the love that had left his life.
He stood up.
*Years Later*
He sat patiently. He was reading. The day was getting colder. The bowl of dog food was sitting next to him. He had been brining it closer to him every day. Today was the day.
The nose emerged first. The rest of the dog followed. It was a golden retriever and he was in a bad way. His coat was dirty and clogged with barbs and other things. He had been through it. He was someone’s pet, not a wild animal. Above all, he was scared.
The dog came to his side and started eating. When the dog was finished, he licked his chops and looked at him. He held out his hand to the dog and the dog sniffed it. He whined. He went slowly. He put his hand on the dog’s head. He petted him slowly. The dog let out another whine.
“You’ve been through it, haven’t you, girl?” he said. “Think you would like to come home with me?”
The dog let out another long whine.
“Come on,” he said. “My name’s Keith. I think I’ll call you Stella for now. Let’s go.”
He put a harness and leash on Stella. It seemed she wanted to be found by someone. He had developed this kind, slow energy over years of doing his job. He brought the dog to his car and opened the door for her to climb in. He drove a familiar route. He got to the office and helped Stella out. He brought her into the clinic and she was once more fearful. The sounds and smells hitting her all at once. He scratched her behind the ears.
“You’re going to have to be brave,” he said calmly. “C’mon.”
Stella followed him but she was walking quickly. She wanted to be away from this place. He did as she wanted and brought her to a large shower. He leashed her inside and started spraying her with the hose. She started whining once more. He worked the barbs and everything out of her fur. He shampooed and did what he could. He gave her a treat as he dried her off.
“There you go, much better,” he said.
He brought her into a small office and there was a woman there in scrubs and a lab coat. The dog started whining.
“I know, I know,” the woman said. “I’m your nightmare. But I’m here to help. You brought in a beauty, Keith.”
“Yea, this was a pet project I had working on. She was hiding near my house,” he replied.
“Well, let me do my exam and I’ll let you know when she’s done.”
“Thanks, Leslie.”
He went back to his office and did some paperwork. When she messaged him on slack, he got up and walked back to the examination room.
“So, there’s something interesting,” she said.
“What’s that?” Keith asked.
“Look who the owner is.”
A familiar name flashed up on the screen.
“Hunh, that’s funny,” Keith said.
“Turns out her name is Muffins. Do you want to drop her off?” Leslie asked.
“Yeah, I owe her a favor.”
“Really? What?”
“She broke up with me.”
Leslie’s eyes shot up.
“Are you planning to kill her?” Leslie asked.
“What?! No!” Keith replied honestly taken aback.
“Then explain.”
Keith rolled his eyes. He pulled out his phone. He scrolled through an app and while he did so, he absentmindedly pet Muffins. He pulled up a picture and showed it to her.
“That’s what I looked like three years ago when she broke up with me,” Keith said. “The day she did I did the first situp I had done since I got out of high school. I was a fucking loser. Now, I’m in the best shape of my life. I’m happy, I’m healthy and all it took was her stomping my heart. And no, I don’t think we’re going to get back together because I can see that the primary owner is the dude she left me for. So, I want to show my thanks.”
“And possibly find out if the guy she’s dating is a scumbag?” Leslie said.
“Yes… but I’m not hoping for that.”
“I believe you.”
He put a collar and leash on Muffins.
“You should call first,” Leslie said.
“Eh, it’ll be fine,” Keith said. “C’mon girl, let’s go home.”
The drive was long and much happier than the one before. Muffins seemed much happier to be clean and unburdened by dirt. As he followed his GPS, Keith wondered when Muffins would realize she was getting close to home. They passed by a coffee shop and Muffins started whining and barking. He smiled to himself. They turned onto her street and he could see her tail whipping back and forth.
He pulled up in front of a nice little ranch house and she was going nuts. She was trying to get out through the window. He opened the door and came around to where he let her out. She was pulling hard on the leash. He could see how she had gotten away from her owner.
Maybe it was some off hand glance through the window. Some happenstance but the owner had seen his dog coming up the walk being pulled by a handsome animal control worker. He threw the door open and Keith let the leash go. Muffins ran to her father. The man hugged his dog who was licking at his face. He was crying hard enough to shake his body. Keith watched with his back against the door to his car.
There was paperwork to fill out but that could wait. Sometimes the job was heartbreaking when he had to witness the cruelty and sadness for creatures that didn’t understand. Today though, today it felt good.
“Keith?” a voice behind him said.
He turned around and he saw Viv, his ex coming up the street. She had been coming home from a run seemingly. He smiled at her.
“Hey,” he said raising his hand to her.
She was confused looking at him. She looked from him to her front door and saw her dog and boyfriend reunited. She let out a cry, having immediately forgotten about her ex and happy to see her baby. The dog jumped at her. Happy to see her.
Keith watched them for a while before getting his paperwork and clipboard and approaching them. The man stood up and reached out his hand to Keith.
“Thank you, god bless you,” the man said. “Who found her?”
“I did,” Keith said. “She was hiding in a bush near my house. I saw her going through the garbage and followed her to her hiding place. I’ve been trying to get her to trust me for the last week.”
“She ran off on me while we were on a walk,” Viv said.
“She’s very strong.”
“Yeah, is that paperwork to fill out?” the man asked.
“Yeah, I figured you’re her owner, Bruce, based on what we got but I just need to make it official. Can I see your ID?”
“Yea, let me just run in and get it.”
He left the two alone and Muffins ran into the house with him. Keith smiled into the awkward silence between them.
“You look good,” Viv said.
“Thanks,” Keith said. “So do you.”
“What happened?”
“Don’t take it the wrong way, you broke up with me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s the wrong way the apology should go. I made you miserable for years. You were so patient with me. I was blind and such an asshole.”
“You were.”
“So, yeah, I’m sorry. You deserved better and looks like you found it.”
“He’s great.”
“His dog loves him. That’s enough to tell me what kind of person he is. Are you happy?”
“I’m so happy.”
“Good.”
He smiled contentedly. Bruce came walking up and handed off his license to Keith. Keith took down the information.
“There we go,” Keith said. “Glad to help.”
“Am I allowed to give you like a tip or anything like that?” Bruce asked.
“It’s frowned upon.”
“By the way, you two seem to know each other.”
“We’re just old friends, my name’s Keith.”
“Oh… wait, that Keith?”
Keith let out a laugh.
“Yeah, I’m the ex,” Keith said.
“You’re not what I was expecting,” Bruce said.
“I’m sure every story you heard about me was true. I spent the last three years trying to be less of a waste of space. That’s how I got this job!”
“Are you happy?” Viv asked.
“Very much so,” Keith replied with a warm smile.
“Are you seeing anyone?” Bruce asked.
“Think I’m trying to steal her back?”
“Nah, I have a friend whose single. Maybe I could give her your number?”
“Which friend?” Viv said.
“Tanya,” Bruce replied.
“You are not inflicting Tanya on him.”
“I’m just saying…”
Keith held up his hand.
“I’m good,” Keith said. “I’m happy.”
He took the two in for a moment.
“And I’m happy that you two are happy as well,” Keith said. “I have to get back to it. You two have a good one.”
He gave them a brief nod and when he saw Muffins wagging through the glass door, he gave her a two fingered salute. He climbed back into his car and drove off.
Leslie noticed him humming throughout the rest of the day. She didn’t ask. Didn’t want to make him question his happiness.
A week or so later, he got a text from Viv. It was asking if he would want to go out with them for a drink. He smiled at his phone. He started texting back.
I don’t know why this book popped into my head. My thoughts often come at random and without any guidance. I think one of those thoughts was: Brian from the book Hatchet would make a great Animorph. That’s not what I’m going to be talking about in this article but it’s important to tell people where you came from.
Hatchet by Gary Paulsen was a book that resonated with me for some reason. I read it and wanted so badly to be living in the woods by myself with my wits keeping me from starving. As an adult, my heart breaks for that poor boy. He was only about thirteen(same age as the Animorphs) and he had so much happen to him. It’s the same thing like being Batman or Spider-Man, the life itself seems super fun. You don’t consider the implications that that life comes from unbearable loss.
For those that don’t know the book, Brian is given the titular hatchet by his mother because he’s flying out in a small Cessna plane to visit his father on an oil rig. During the flight, the pilot has a heart attack and dies leaving Brian alone. He crashes the plane in the L-shaped lake and swims to shore. The only thing he has are his clothes and his hatchet. He then has to survive in the wilderness and let me see how many trials I can think of that he had to go through: nausea from “gut cherries”, learning how to fish, creating fire, dealing with swarms of mosquitoes, bears, a tornado, nearly drowning in the lake when previously mentioned tornado drags the ship out of the lake and having to dive deep into the water to get his dropped hatchet. Let me head to wikipedia and check… oh I thought the skunk was only in Brian’s Winter but he has to deal with that, along with a bull moose, a pack of wolves and porcupine.
In the original ending, he gets rescued at the end of summer. In the new canonical ending, he has to survive through a Canadian winter because many fans pointed out to the author, that’s the true test. I had read the sequel, the River, which I didn’t like that much. I thought that the premise wasn’t that strong. It had nothing to do with the writing, Gary Paulsen is a master of the form. I’m reading through Brian’s Return and it still brought that same spark as when I read the original.
I’m trying to figure out why that spark hit. Maybe like your first kiss, your first love and all other things, nothing hits like that first one. Well, I think when it comes to kissing it comes down to your first good kiss. There are terrible kisses and you get to decide which ones truly count.
I think that if I didn’t love this book I wouldn’t have fallen in love with some of the other books that I’ve loved down the line. The Lord of the Rings, with its similar breathtaking descriptions of beautifully wild scenery. Animorphs, the idea of young people having to overcome adversity that they never should have to face.
And finally, my favorite book, Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier. Both books feature men in the wilderness though Inman has to deal with the press of humanity despite his best efforts. They also harken back to an older time and a deep respect for the native Americans while subtly noting the terrible things this country has done to them. They’re also just plain beautifully written. I wish I was as good as either of those men.
I read that book more than thirty years ago. I’m older now. I go for walks in the woods. I own a hatchet though I’ve never used it the way Brian has and probably never will. But when I’m in those woods, Brian walks with me. I don’t know if Gary Paulsen knew how important this book would be for me and others who have read that book. I hope he did.
RIP Gary, I hope on the other side you’re in a canoe floating down a river. The blue sky over your head endlessly and a smile on your face. From the deepest part of my heart, thank you.
I’ve been writing for what will be twenty-seven years next February.
I worked in pharmacy for twenty years.
It’s a strange thing looking at those numbers. When I was younger, I met people who would describe the businesses or occupations they were in, in this way. It was insane to me that anyone could do anything like that for this long.
And now I’m one of those older people. I’m going to be forty next year. I’m looking back at half a life time in pharmacy and more than half a lifetime pursuing the dream of becoming a writer. The closest I got was someone asking me to give them an extra thirty pages of one of my manuscripts.
So, do I look back at those years with regret?
Not in the slightest.
It would be easy to do so. I’m not rich in a financial sense. I’m not a writer in the acknowledged sense of someone offering me money for my works except for the time I got twenty-five bucks for selling a story where Teddy Roosevelt had sex with a male yeti.
(You can do that by buying my book of horror short stories here: https://books2read.com/u/3nJPzP my plugs are nothing if not shameless)
The reason I don’t have any regrets is because in those time periods I haven’t wasted my life. I have loved two women with everything I had. Kissed a fair more than that. I have climbed mountains and seen both shores of this great land. I’ve eaten delicious meals and made some too. I’ve laughed to the point that it hurt and erased hurts of the past with my friends. I have felt loss so deep that it scars my soul.
See, defining yourself by the money you earned or the time you spent doing a certain thing, it erases everything else. It makes it sound like you’re a robot in a tube waiting to go back to work. It’s just a piece of everything. All those other things are what make me who I am. And I’m proud of them.
Now that I’ve written this out, I look back at the times people have told me who they are and I didn’t ask followup questions. I should have been more curious and tried to round out the person I was talking to. I still have a fair time on this world, hopefully. I’m going to take that lesson with me and be more curious.
So, in earlier posts on this blog, I was talking about how I wanted to listen to 100 albums in a year that I had never listened to before. Over the weekend, I achieved it. I’ve made screenshots of the albums that I’ve listened to.
Okay, so my main takeaway looking at them from a distance is that I only have one rap/hip-hop album on here that I don’t really think counts, which is Gorillaz’ Humanz. I think I’m going to spend the next few months rectifying that.
I was going to say I don’t know why I didn’t listen to more rap but it’s because I admittedly get stuck staring at cement blocks without knowing how to start chipping away. This isn’t just rap, there are other things in my life that I look at and I’m like “I’m too old and too tired to start learning about that.” That’s a defeatist attitude and I don’t want to let that keep me out of things.
Two of those things are League of Legends and Fortnite. They got started and I have no idea what’s going on in those games and I don’t want to figure them out. They seem like time sucks that I can’t deal with.
I’m getting off topic. But it’s kind of the same thing with rap. The main thing is that rap is such a diverse and wide spreading genre that it’s hard to know who I’m going to click with. And maybe I’m not being adventurous but I kind of want to find things that I’m going to have at least an inkling of liking them. I love Dessa, Epic Beard Men, Doomtree, Jay-Z, Notorious B.I.G., Missy Elliot, Black Star(and it’s two actual stars Talib Kweli and Mos Def), the Yah Mos Def, Common, N.W.A, the Fugees and others. I’ve been thinking about getting into De La Soul, but was worried about how they eventually started going mostly sketch on their albums. Still, they have classic albums. Along with them, I want to listen to the Roots and see what I’ve been missing.
Speaking of seeing what I’m missing, HOW THE FUCK DID I NOT LISTEN TO LEMONADE UNTIL THIS YEAR. THAT ALBUM RIPPED.
I tried to make sure I listened to smaller artists but as you can see there is a lot of Taylor Swift on there. So I’m a hypocrite. I don’t regret listening to Man’s Best Friend by Sabrina Carpenter. What was I supposed to do? Not listen to a 70s disco infused album that’s really good?
I notice there’s a lot of sad guitars from the guys and girls, Azure Ray, Iron and Wine and First Aid Kit. Maybe that’s just where I was this year. Also four of five albums were old school R&B, Al Green, Tammi Tyrell, Marvin Gaye and Minnie Riperton. I should have listened to more.
There is a lot of K-pop on here, which does have some R&B and rap elements but I still think that’s a genre all its own. That was mostly influenced by my buddy, Chris. Chris, you put me on some good stuff.
I’ve already made a post about how I was surprised by the sadness of Jimmy Buffett.
Alice Sara Ott’s two albums of beautiful piano music were what I listened to while studying for my Server+ exam.
Choosing 69 Love Songs as my last album was insane. That album is nearly three hours long. It’s good but finishing your race like that is like running back four miles before heading to the finish line.
I could keep talking about these albums and I probably will. But I want to talk about what this whole thing meant to me. First, it fell good to finish something. Secondly, it made me listen to more music. A lot of times I’ve found myself listening to debaters and reddit story read videos exclusively. This has made me choose music more often. Not just new stuff but falling back in love with old stuff. Like coming back to meet an old friend.
So, yeah, this was a fun time and positive experience. Next year, I want to challenge myself by listening to an album from an artist from every country in the world. Those penguins in Antartica probably have some sick beats.
(I learned this from Paul Robalino on the behind the scenes of Game Changer on Dropout.TV. He talks about using a random word generator and then writing from that word. This time we’re shrinking things with the word: Reduction).
Patricia looked at herself in the mirror. She was a pretty woman with a round face and full cheeks but most of the people that she dated didn’t focus on her face. They focused on what was going on below her neck.
Her breasts had started growing when she was fifteen and hadn’t stopped until they were so far down the alphabet that it made her uncomfortable. Her back ached daily and nearly nothing fit. She sighed as she stuffed herself into her bra. The ugly thing that she had bought because it was too expensive to get nice things in her size.
She thought again about getting a breast reduction. She had thought about this and brought it up with other boyfriends she had and they had all thrown tantrums about it. One of them had told her it was like slicing up the Mona Lisa. That if he she did it he would break up with her. She saved him the trouble and broke up with him.
She had the money for it that wasn’t the problem. She was dating a guy now and she saw a future with him. She wondered if he would stick around if she were to do this thing. Then she kicked herself for taking his opinion into account. Who cares what he thought. On a whim, she thought about calling him and asking him. Might as well get it over with and find out what he would say. If he was against it, she would be able to not waste her time anymore.
He picked up on the third ring.
“Hey, sweetums, what’s up?” he answered.
“Nothing, Joshy, I just had a question about something.”
“Hit me with it.”
“I’m thinking about getting a breast reduction.”
“Okay, cool. Just let me know when you’re thinking about it and I’ll take the time off, okay? I want to make sure I’m around to take care of you while you recover.”
Patricia was taken aback. Not in a bad way but more surprised.
“That’s it?”
“Uh, I guess is there something else you want me to do? Do you want me to come with you to the consultation?”
“No, I… you don’t have any objections to it?”
There was a long pause on the other end. She wondered if he was thinking about it for the first time.
“Why would I get a say in what you do to your body?” he asked.
“I mean, I was worried that this might make you less attracted to me,” she said.
“Honey, I love you, I don’t love a pair of tits. If I did I’d buy a pair at the Pleasure Shack and play with those. Probably save me a lot of money and having to smell your taco farts when we get Taco Bell and pass out on the couch.”
She snorted laughter at that.
“Besides,” he continued. “I know how they irk you. I care more about your comfort than some boobs.”
“Hm, I love you, honey,” she said.
“I love you too, give them a call and we can sort it out.”
“Am I going to see you later?”
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She hung up and googled the name of a plastic surgeon. She held the phone to her ear while it rang.
“I’m going to marry that man,” she said.
“Hello, Dr. Patel’s office,” a voice said on the other end. “How can I help you?”
“Hi, my name is Patricia Allman, I’d like to make an appointment for a consultation.”
(I learned this from Paul Robalino on the behind the scenes of Game Changer on Dropout.TV. He talks about using a random word generator and then writing from that word. This time we’re getting EXTREME with the word, extreme.)
What follows is the transcript from the Regional Semifinals for the Radical Race and Extreme Sports Festival presented by Power Jam Juice. When you need to jam some power, you know whose juice to jank.
John: It’s a glorious day today at the local fairgrounds that have been converted for a day of extreme sports and racing. I’m John McJortson and I’m here with my cohost Leslie Redd-White, which makes you wonder why she didn’t just combine her hyphenated married name into Leslie Pink. How’re you doing today, Leslie?
Leslie: Fine, John, and the reason that I haven’t changed my name to Leslie Pink is that there is already a pornographic actress with that name. I wouldn’t want to try and trade on another woman’s name especially one as talented as her nor would I want to have to use my middle name to continue my own career. Sorry aunt Gladys but your name is old and lame.
John: Right you are, Leslie! Now, we’re about to get underway with our first events. We’re going to check in on the half pipe where Sean Lentil is about to start his first run. He’s dropping in and starting to pick up speed.
Leslie: Still picking up speed. He has not performed a single trick nor has he touched his board with anything but his feet.
John: He sure is getting some air on those exits.
Leslie: Wait, he’s starting to spin! It’s a 1080! And another one! And another! He’s really spinning. Oh, wait, he’s starting to achieve flight. Rising! Rising! And he’s reached escape velocity! While we’re waiting for the results for the run, we’re going to take a moment to thank our sponsors today, Power Jam Juice. They have two new flavors, Menacing Mango and Grandma Killed a Man and Covered it Up. The second one has a blue raspberry flavor and they would like to let everyone know they will no longer be offering poll voted flavor names.
John: Thank you for reminding us of our sponsors, Leslie and we have an update on Sean. He has broken the atmosphere and is currently in space. Apparently, the ISS has seen him achieve faster than light travel and disappeared. Godspeed, Sean and good luck.
Leslie: Achieving FTL from a single trick is pretty extreme, John.
John: Right you are, Leslie. What do we have next?
Leslie: Next up in the half pipe we have Corey Randalsandals who, looking to impress the crowd has taken off his shirt.
John: Those abs and tattoos will certainly impress some people in the crowd if they’re into those kinds of things.
Leslie: That’s a hell of a tattoo of kanji on his back. Having studied Japanese, I can read that and apparently it says “My name is Corey Randalsandals, I’m a selfish lover and even more of a red flag. I’m jealous and mean and I don’t deserve a wonderful girlfriend who knows what kanji means. I got this for very racist reasons that used the describers, exotic and mystical. By the time I unveil this at the Regional Semifinals for the Radical Race and Extreme Sports Festival presented by Power Jam Juice, my girlfriend will have taken everything out of my house and headed for greener pastures. Go fuck yourself, Corey, I know about Nicole.”
John: That’s quite a lot.
Leslie: Small print. Looks like he’s pulled out his phone and is making a phone call. He’s yelling into his phone. Now he’s pathetically begging. Looks like his girlfriend was funding his lifestyle as he’s not a very good skater. Okay, he hasn’t dropped in but he has curled into a ball and is starting to cry.
John: That’s quite a move, I don’t know how the judges are going to score it. Well, he’s dropped in and left the half pipe. Looks like he’s skating away. Just disappearing over the horizon. Godspeed, Corey.
Leslie: I’m pretty sure that he came here in a car. Anyway, this is a good time to bring up Ron’s towing another sponsor that will treat your car like it’s his own. That’s not that good because I’ve seen the way that Ron treats his cars.
John: And as always, Power Jam Juice, try their other newest flavor Bananaramalabamaslammamamajammagamma juice. The fun thing about this one is that it actually doesn’t have a banana flavor but more a citrus flavor. There was a miscommunication between marketing and R&D and they had already made the cans, so yeah.
Leslie: Oh my god, in all my years of sports broadcasting, I’ve never seen this happen. A large hairy man, that can only be the Bigfoot has come onto the halfpipe. Kids, I want you to notice that even sasquatch is wearing proper safety gear. You should always make sure that you’re safe and happy when skating.
John: Couldn’t agree more, Leslie. Bigfoot is not an official contestant but he is being given special dispensation to enter. He’s about to start his run. Oh my god, I’ve never seen skating like this.
Leslie: A 900 into a Christ air into a heelflip and then a kickflip. He’s getting some good hang time there. And right into a Dizzy Gillespie. That’s the best skating wombat that I’ve ever seen. He’s… yes, he’s knitting! That’s a beautiful scarf! Bigfoot has excellent color sense. And he finishes with a Leaning Tower of Pisa. The crowd is going nuts. Wait… it’s not only for Bigfoot. Oh my god… there are deer at the edge of the grounds.
John: Those are not deer.
Leslie: Yes, that one has four eyes and eight antlers.
John: In this shocking turn of events, Bigfoot is running towards the not deer.
Leslie: He’s shouting something in his language of grunts and growls.
John: I took Bigfoot language in college and by taking it I listened to a crazy man tell me about his erotic and tender encounters with Bigfoot for five hours. I understand what he’s saying. He’s shouting that he has fallen in love with our society despite our flaws. That he wishes to save these innocents from those monsters. That he knows our mistakes and he loves us no matter what.
Leslie: I’m openly weeping, John.
John: And he’s entered battle with them! The not deer are shifting into forms that I can’t describe. The sounds that I’m hearing are horrific. Bigfoot is fighting valiantly. It looks bad though. Oh my god, no, he’s won… but he’s been mortally wounded. The crowd is running to him. Looks like several members of the crowd who have medical training are looking to help him. A woman has knelt and is holding his hand. He’s tenderly stroking her cheek. And… his hand has gone limp. The crowd has gently closed his eyes. The crowd are screaming in sorrow. It looks like they’re lifting his body gently.
Leslie: From what I can hear, they’re calling to take him to the local cemetery and build a great mausoleum for him. They don’t care how many people they have to drag out of their graves to make room for him.
John: Leslie, I’m going to end my broadcast here. I know of several wealthy landowners who have been laid too much at rest.
Leslie: Let me come with you, John. I’ve always had a great love of Bigfoot as any American would and should. This has truly been extreme. May a fleet of angels sing thee to thy rest, gentle Bigfoot.
End of transcript
Recently on reddit someone asked who the character is that makes you sad. There are a lot of characters that I could think of but the one that came to my mind is Pangle from my favorite book, Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier.
The book is about Inman trying to get home through the losing south during the last days of the Civil War. He is amongst a group of people called outliers who are hiding from the home guard. One of the outliers is Stobrod, a violinist who after playing a little girl out has no longer been able to focus on the war. He runs into Pangle while hiding in a cave on Cold Mountain.
Pangle was run off his family’s property for being “simple-minded” and he hid in the mountains. He discovered a group of other outliers in his cave and was happy to see them. He fell in love with Stobrod’s music and during a raid on a farmer’s house, Stobrod stole a banjo. Pangle took to the banjo easily and the two became a duo. Even before that, Pangle would curl up next to Stobrod to sleep no matter how many times Stobrod shoved him away. In Stobrod’s words, all Pangle wanted was warmth and music.
The tragedy of Pangle comes when him and Stobrod are discovered by the Home Guard, the group meant to find outliers. They listen to the two play some music with only Stobrod realizing that they’re about to get killed. When the guard tells them to get up against a tree, Pangle throws his arm over Stobrod’s shoulders like they’re getting their picture taken. He won’t stop smiling so the guard tells him to put his hat over his face. He does so and they’re killed.
It’s pretty obvious that Pangle represents the kindness and innocence of people in the face of war. His murder is one of several dozen in this book. But this one always stuck out to me due to its unfairness and tragedy. He didn’t have any involvement in this, the war and its consequences came to him. He could have lived for a long time on that mountain.
Due to their mental state, I’m reminded of Lenny from Of Mice and Men. But the sorrow in Lenny is that a friend did it to him to be kind. Knowing that the fate that he would receive at the hands of the land owner would be far worse. These bastards did it just out of meanness.
Ada and Ruby(Stobrod’s daughter) come up the mountain to bury him and Pangle when they find Stobrod alive. When he’s going back down the mountain, Inman points out where they buried Pangle, Stobrod says “if God was to set out killing every men based on their demerits, that boy would make up the hind end of the line”.
When I read that line, I thought of it as a good way to live. Not with the threat of death from an overseeing God but to continue to show that kind of kindness throughout my life. It would be a nice thing to do.
In the words of Adam Green, it’s hard to be a girl. It would be a lot easier for these two girls if people would just stop being assholes to them.
First up, we have Anne Shirley from Anne of Green Gables. I’ve met her just about a dozen pages before and she has instantly stolen my heart. I want what’s best for this child. I want her to have so much more than this world could offer her. She is a joy to be around.
Then snooty Mrs. Rachel shows up and is like “well, they didn’t adopt you for your looks”.
HOW FUCKING DARE YOU, MRS. RACHEL.
All Anne wanted was to be loved and a home. She doesn’t need your hate. I haven’t finished the book but I doubt she’s going to get hers. The greatest villains never do, which is what brings me to our next subject.
Kristy’s dad from the Babysitters’ Club. Kristy just wanted her dad to be there for her. Just once. But no, he had to be out of her life. Couldn’t even take twenty minutes to call her. To let his daughter knew he cared.
I checked and he never got his. There was no comeuppance for him. There should have been.
It’s not that they’re the greatest villains in the world of literature(they’re up there) but it’s the fact that their arrogance and disregard hurts girls that are already facing a great deal. The world has so much cruelty and you can let it change you or you could be better than it. Both of these people need to be better.
But yo, if they lived in the same time period, I think that Kristy would love to have Anne in the Babysitters’ Club and Anne would kill it. She already knows how to save children’s lives.
I had this discussion with my therapist last night. It’s something that constantly pops into my mind. Mostly because there are some nights where I don’t really do much of anything beyond doomscrolling on my phone. I’m not one of those people that thinks you need to be on that 24/7 365 grindset or you’re a waste to society. I know that the body and especially the mind needs rest.
The question I wonder is am I getting too much rest to the point of being lazy or am I getting the right amount?
Now, the thing is that I think part of this is the race conundrum. There are people further along in the race of life than I am. They’re married, they’re making more money than me or they’re just doing something that they want to do. I’ve achieved some things but it doesn’t feel like enough when I compare myself to them. So, that’s something that I have to deal with.
Then there’s the goal oriented anxiety. There are things that I want to do like start a Youtube channel, there are novels that I want to write, I want to learn to make amigurumi, I want to travel, I want to read more, listen to more new albums or podcasts and then there are so many other things that I want to do. When I stare up at that mountain, I get intimidated and once more, I do nothing.
Well, last night, I think I finally came along the way to solve this. It’s called the footpath. Don’t stare at the sheer cliff face and wonder how you’re going to climb it. You have to find the little way up the mountain. I’m going to take that list of things and introduce each footpath.
I want to write more- start with a single sentence a day.
I want to learn to make amigurumi- start watching the instructional videos so you have an inkling of what you’re getting into.
I want to travel- There are interesting places in this state and other states surrounding mine that I can travel to that doesn’t require much effort to go to
I want to read more- Novel too much? Start with a fanfiction, poem or short story.
I want to listen to more podcasts and albums?- Find a short podcast or start with one song from an album that you didn’t know.
Wait for one of those things to hook you and bring you along. I know that part of this is dealing with depression but this can help with that. I’ve found that when I’m depressed, I do something even if I don’t want to do it, eventually the joy of doing it starts to come along. You have to remind your heart of the things you love. Like calling a friend that you haven’t talked to in a long while.
Franklin Cota, an author and podcaster 