Five Things This Week: week 7, 2018

Vinyl Me Please
The author, Caitlin White, gets so much right here and misses so much. As with every “best ___ in [state]” you’re going to necessarily miss things – that’s really the point of these things, to spark disagreement, engagement, conversation. And, yeah, I’m taking the bait (though I’ll try hard not to make this longer than the piece itself). Her perspective echoes the nascent crush I’ve had on SoCal for some time now (It’s been a while, SoCal, I need to come visit!), which gives me all the feels and combined with her rationale for Amoeba being in the heart of Hollywood… I get it. I truly do. But California is enormous. She gives props to Amoeba in SF and Berkeley, but it’s lip service from someone who never went to the Telegraph Avenue store and then gotten a slice at Blondie’s (RIP) – Ah, I’m doing what she did, co-mingling location with the store itself and with memories. Okay, well, I also always liked Rasputin better as a music store (Fat Slice, too, FWIW). But beyond that, what about the mom-and-pop record stores that are hanging on by the skin of their teeth? In Santa Rosa we have the (appropriately named) Last Record Shop which is magnificent and a real treasure of a record store. I’m sure you could probably point to your favorite record store not named “Amoeba”. Okay, getting off my soap box now. And the article is definitely worth a read.
Now that we’ve got that highly-charged political link out of the way, how about gun violence?!
Washington Post
Okay, let’s first agree that any school shootings are too many, full-stop. We may disagree on measures to stop them (which I’m not even going to talk about), but the reason I’m linking to this article speaks to a problem that is larger than school shootings (if that’s even possible) which is how we choose our facts. Reaching for the “18 school shootings in 2018” fact that has been echoing through social media since the most recent (I hate that I even have to put that qualifier on this) Florida shootings is easy, as it’s an incendiary statistic. But, as the article points out, it may not be accurate. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean to cast aspersions on Everytown For Gun Safety or their rather transparent criteria. But if your goal is to reach people whose minds can be changed on this issue, including a middle-of-the-night suicide in front of a school that had been closed for six months seems disingenuous, even if it meets the letter of their criteria. Opposition to any gun control measures will hone in on this particular instance and use it to discredit the entire endeavor – it’s a well-honed tactic, and, mark my words, will be wielded if there is any real discussion about this.
New York Magazine
“When rescuers found Nathan Carman after seven days at sea, his mother had vanished without a trace. But his past was about to resurface.” Reads like a twisted novel… only this happened.

4Black Panther The Album Music From And Inspired By
Going to see Black Panther tonight and I’m SO excited! The soundtrack came out a week ago and is fantastic. Kendrick Lamar is featured on most tracks and has at least bit parts in the rest. Initially Lamar told director, Ryan Coogler, he’d definitely contribute a track or two, but then Coogler shrewdly showed Lamar an early cut of the album and Lamar instantly decided he’s all in. Lamar’s albums tend to be dense, powerful epics, but owing largely to the soundtrack format and his collaborators this soundtrack showcases Lamar at his most accessible. All that said, it’s still hip hop and rap, so if that’s not your forte then so be it. But if you are, it’s fantastic.

5
Happy Death Day

Late to the party on this one, Fern and I finally got around to heeding the suggestions we watch it. So much fun. The horror isn’t bad – there are a few jump scares, but it traffics on established horror movie tropes so you’re likely to see them coming.

Leslie The Dragon vs Craigslist

Story night this week falls on Valentine’s Day, so I figured I’d better put together a Valentine’s Day story. Yesterday I had a chance to tell this story at the Do Tell Story Swap in Santa Rosa last night. I’d never had a chance to tell/perform any of my stories before and it was so much fun. Of course being nervous I forgot a lot of details. So, here is the story in it’s full. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Label: Fiction

Girl DragonTo be fair, she’d tried everything she could think of before going online. She let her friends set her up with their friends (they just weren’t into her), she tried blind dates (ugh, disaster after unmitigated disaster — do you know what happens when an unsuspecting dolled up dragon meets an equally dapper yet unsuspecting Duke at an upscale bistro. I’ll tell you this, no one was killed, but you’d never guess a dragon in A-line shift dress could dodge the spears of half a dozen bodyguards so ably, and the duke realized polyester was a poor fabric choice once Leslie started breathing fire). She tried singles mixers, she even asked Taylor the leprechaun in IT out (turns out he was gay. who knew?).
Leslie the Dragon was at her wits end.
And it wasn’t like Craigslist was her first foray online either. She’d tried Match.com, eHarmony, Plenty of Fish, Zoosk… she was super excited about d-date.com, the all-dragon dating site? Turns out it’s full of Russian chat bots trying to sell you counterfeit prescription drugs.
Deterred but not defeated, she decided to pull out all the stops in an effort not to spend another Valentine’s day by herself in her cave watching Crazy Ex-Girlfriend reruns. So, despite her better judgement, she found herself on Craigslist creating an account (PrplPpleEtr37) and composing a post in the Long Term Relationship room for “Women Seeking Men”. She started simply, with the title: “SPD [Single Purple Dragon] seeking a good man for Valentine’s Day!” Good start, she thought. Now for the post…
“Are you a fun-loving, adventurous man? Do you like dragons (who doesn’t?! 🙂 ) Are you looking for a fun Valentine’s date? Send me a message!” Short, sweet, simple, she thought, this is easier than I thought! She took a deep sulfurous breath and clicked “Submit”.
She didn’t have to wait long.
The first response came in just three minutes later. “HawtDude69” had drunkenly (she’d hoped he was drunk) scrawled out the reply, “Hey BB, I can slay that dragon. Let’s hook up! You want this!” She frowned and deleted the message, but the deluge had just started. Over the next few hours the responses poured in, most making HawtDude69’s message read like Shakespeare. Then she got her first unsolicited pic of male genitalia. Out of pure shock, she accidentally incinerated her monitor. She took that as a sign and decided she was done for the night.
She got a new monitor the next day, and proceeded to sort through the detritus that passed as responses — all 138 of them. One caught her eye, though. His handle was  “NeverNeedsALighter336”. Cute…. “Hey PrplPpleEtr37! You sound like a lot of fun! I’m 12’ 10” [tall, good…], athletic [positive...], like to laugh [ooh, nice!], and have fun [me too!]. Let’s get coffee or pillage a village soon! JK about the village!”
Leslie was over the moon. She wrote back, got his phone number and they agreed to meet the next day at a coffee shop near her work.
The next day her coworkers smiled at her renewed enthusiasm. Taylor admired her filed and painted claws and the leprechaun said her black skirt and boots were, in his words, “fierce”. Before she left work, she re-did her makeup in the bathroom, admired the new faux-emerald stud she wore in her nose horn. She felt, in the parlance of Craigslist, “hawt”.
She got to the coffeeshop early, ordered a skinny latte with a shot of brimstone and waited. And waited. And waited. Sometime after her fifth skinny latte she decided to text NeverNeedsALighter. “New phone, who dis?” came back. She left claw marks in the table.
She removed her first post and tried another, simpler post: “SPD looking for a real guy.”
Same cavalcade of sex solicitations and male genitalia. Oh, and look at that, a post from “NeverNeedsALighter493” new number, same schtick. There were a few decent, genuine-sounding emails that she responded to, but none wrote back. What gives?!
Valentine’s Day drew ever nearer, and her third, fourth, fifth posts garnered the same responses. She set up two more meetings and had two more no-shows— one she swore she saw the guy peek his sout around the corner and then disappear. She started casting a wider net, posting in “Strictly Platonic,” “Misc Romance”, and even “Casual Encounters”. She wasn’t looking for a casual encounter, mind you, but she just wanted a real person! Her posts had degraded, too — “SPD looking for anything. Come on!”
Same responses, but this time even more male genitalia.
Leslie had had it with Craigslist. Unfortunately, now it was Valentine’s Day and despite her posts, her cute outfits and being stood up, here she was. As she cued up the first episode of the first season of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, resigned to start the series again from the beginning, she changed her mind. She opened up her laptop, brought up Craigslist, and started a new post — this time, though, it was in “Rants and Raves”.
Out of curiousity, she’d perused the room before and found it to be the domain of the lunatic paranoid, the right-wing conspiracist, and the furiously jaded. She turned her head, let out a hot, angry jet of flame, and decided she fit that last category.
Right out of the gate, she fumed, “Any male dragons on this site are a disgrace!” From there she let loose an assault of colorful invective that made her earlier jet of real fire seem like a cool breeze. When she finished, she didn’t click “submit” as much as she hammered it with a fist.
Responses came back fast and furious. Sure, there was the ubiquitous male genitalia (seriously, she thought, who the hell sends these?!) but there were also emails from women expressing “You go girl!” And “Set it on fire, my scaly sister!” For the first time since getting stood up by NeverNeedsALighter336, she showed her teeth in a genuine smile.
And then another email came in. The email was “KnightNDay43” and it matched Leslie’s rant for sheer anger.
“You think being a female dragon is bad? Try being a [explative removed] knight! For every purported damsel email (who never show, BTW) there’s countless bots and angry women with axes to grind — literally, they usually come out with axes. Who needs this [explative]?”
A knight? She pursed her mouth like she had bitten into a fire extinguisher. She moved for the delete button, but her claw hovered over the key… Slowly, she moved her talon over to “Reply.” As she started her reply, she told herself it wasn’t out of anything other than shared hatred for Craigslist users. It absolutely wasn’t about him — for gods’ sake, he was aknight! She was a dragon. “You’re right, KnightNDay43, it sucks all around for dragons and knights alike!” She rifled around her meager liquor cabinet and poured herself a shot of Fireball whiskey, and typed, “Alone on Valentine’s Day. Screw it! This shot’s to you, KnightNDay43!” And she hit send, then slugged back the cinnamon whiskey, which ignited halfway down her throat and literally burned.
He emailed back a picture of a shot glass of amber alcohol held poised in a chain mail gloved hand.
She opened a bottle of mead, poured herself a generous glass and wrote back, “What the hell is it with people and dragons, and everything?! Seriously?!”
He responded that he didn’t know but agreed, “People and mythical beasts suck. Present company excluded.”
That made her smile — in a, you know, jaded, angry, now slightly buzzed way. She responded, “Same.” And they kept emailing.
She didn’t remember how far after midnight they emailed. She didn’t remember which one asked for the other’s phone number, nor how or why they hatched a plan to commiserate over coffee. The next day, though, she did not wear a fierce skirt and boots, opting instead for her preferred Doc Martins and comfy jeans. She didn’t do her makeup before she left work — she didn’t even do her makeup before work. And her claws were chipped and she didn’t give an F.
But when she got to the coffee shop, he sat there early at a middle table, his helm occupying the seat next to him. She folded her wings against her body, pushed open the door and started inside. KnightNDay43 looked up, saw her, and smiled a smile that lit the room and melted her brimstone heart.This, she thought, is a good start.

Selfie Monday, week 7 2018: Parents do totally understand

Jungle Gym JordyFern’s nephew decided I was a jungle gym, and my ears were hand holds. He’s a cool little guy, ear-grappling notwithstanding. I like to think I get along with kids pretty well, despite some photographic evidence showing me rather terrified of holding a very young child. If I seem out of my element with little kids, it’s because, well, I am. I’m not anyone’s father. I’m not even anyone’s godfather. Sure, I’m Winston and the kitties caretaker, but that’s as close as it gets.

I’m constantly in awe of my friends who do have kids. Y’all that are reading this now, you guys are amazing. Every frickin’ last one of you. Because, Jesus, kids are crazy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they’re unbelievably rewarding and expand your heart, and make you a better version of yourself, and all the other things the Father’s and Mother’s day cards say. I don’t doubt that. But I’ve shared more than one beer with a bedraggled, frustrated, sleep-dep’d parent. I don’t know how you do it, but you guys are turning out the future, and that’s pretty amazing.

I’m grateful for the time I get with nieces and nephews and friends’ kids because this time around, that’s as close as I’m going to get to being a parent. I never really had a ticking biological clock like so many of my friends have, yet I always felt I could make a good parent if my significant other did want to have kids. Circumstances as they were, we decided early on that kids weren’t in the equation for us.

And here’s where I might offend some people.

For all those people with children who have ever told someone without children that they’ll “come around” or you “felt like they did” before you decided to have kids – if you have ever said anything like this to someone, this? This is my middle finger. Seriously. Because here’s the thing: you decided to have kids and I’m sure you had great reasons. Eventually you determined that, yes, you really wanted to have kids and so, darnit, that’s exactly what you did. And good on you! See above about parents being awesome. But by the same token, having a child when both parents are fully engaged? That’s a recipe for disaster. I’ve known too many people who grew up knowing their parents didn’t really want them – whether that was through neglect or outright abuse…  yeah. So if a couple decides they don’t want kids, don’t try to tell them they do. I can say this for my own circumstances: our decision was carefully thought through, deliberated, and not made without a lot of consideration.

While you can never truly tell how your children are going to turn out, I see my friends doing everything possible to raise their kids as best they possibly can. And the idea that someday years from now another child will likely put your name up a branch of a family tree… that’s got to be humbling.

For those who decide to raise the future, I salute you.

For my part, where I’m at in life I’m trying to put my energy into my writing. No, it’s nothing like parenting – I’m not going to pretend it’s anything like that. But a long time ago I remember reading that Tori Amos calls her songs her “children” (this was before she actually had children, mind you, but even after becoming a mother she still counts her songs as children, just, you know, not people-children. I hope…). I look back at October and see 31 little instances of me in the 31 Ghosts. These blog posts – the selfies, the stories, even the links, and hopefully soon podcast(s) – all these things are my way of saying from the end of my family branch, “Hey, I was here!” For now, that’s enough.

But I’m also blessed that I can let other peoples’ children use me as a jungle gym. Perhaps one of these days I’ll go back to teaching. For now, corrupting children on a one-on-one basis works pretty well. And do you know what the best thing about being an uncle is? After you hyped them up, or taught them the secrets of Coke and Mentos, or how spraying that aerosol wax on hardwood floors makes for awesome sock skating, after all that you get to give them back to their parents! Sorry! (not sorry).