Category: football

Express Yourself

Wednesday, Wednesday, my last day of work this week! And yes, it’s my Birthday Eve. The last day of being sixty-four. Am I having heavy thoughts about being old and officially a senior citizen? Fuck no. I’m happy I made it this far–the odds were not in my favor. I turned twenty-one the year the New York Slimes first reported the appearance of a strange illness that only seemed to affect gay men (later, Haitians and injection drug users were added to the list), and when I came all the way out eight years later, I just figured I was going to eventually get infected and die. It never happened–I really have lived a charmed life–and there were any other number of close calls with death throughout my life; so many, in fact, that sometimes I forget them all.

That’s a rather somber start, isn’t it?

I slept very well last night, which was marvelous, even if I didn’t want to get up and feel a bit groggy this morning. Yesterday was a nice day at work–not terribly busy and thus was able to keep up on things. I was able to come straight home from work–tonight I have to go pick up the mail and do a very minor grocery run–and spent some nice time with Sparky sleeping in my lap. Paul went out to dinner with a friend, so I was home alone with the kitty for most of the evening. I watched another episode of The Burbs, which I am loving, and did some chores before going to bed relatively early.

College football is a mere couple of weeks away now; LSU opens with Clemson in Baton Rouge over Labor Day weekend, and my Saturdays will officially become dedicated to college football again. Thge preseason polls are out; LSU is ranked 11th in one and 13th in the other. Coming off a tragic 7-6 season that finished off Brian Kelly1‘s time in Baton Rouge (I don’t mind the season since it rid of us of him), that’s kind of surprising. I know everyone is expecting magic this first season with Lane Kiffin as coach, but we should really temper our excitement some. The schedule is brutal, and includes games at two places that want Coach Kiffin burned in effigy if not reality; Tennessee and Mississippi. These polls are not quite as bad as last year, though, which had LSU in the top five after beating Clemson in the opener, which was insane. No one knew whether either team was any good at the time, and Clemson has definitely not been on brand for quite some time now. Polls mean nothing, in football as in politics, and all that matters is what happens on the field on Saturdays. Obviously, I’d love to see LSU make a run for the natty, but it’s also not the end of the world if we’re not there yet.

Is it wrong to be looking forward to the long weekend so much? I don’t know that I’ll do a whole lot on my birthday tomorrow; I usually take the day off from anything approximating actual work–I’ll do chores and read for a bit, of course–but for the most part, I plan on being bored as fuck tomorrow. I think we’re going to Costco this weekend, and we’re planning on seeing Spider-Man. Not a lot of plans for a four day weekend, right? I do think tomorrow I will stay off-line most of the day. I have a newsletter to get out and a blog entry to write, and once that’s taken care of, I am walking away from the computer. Sounds heavenly, doesn’t it?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I’ll see you here again tomorrow morning. See you then!

The Sipsey River bottoms on my uncle’s farm. The river was high that spring.
  1. Hey, I was at least willing to give him a chance. He wound up ending worse than he started. ↩︎

Like a Prayer

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment, and I am up early. I actually was awake and out of bed before Sparky came looking for breakfast. I feel great this morning, which is awesome. I don’t know how the day is going to play out, but let’s see how it all develops, shall we? Yesterday was lovely. I had some groceries delivered and spent most of the day cleaning and organizing and yes, thinking. Sparky wanted to sleep in my lap while Paul was off doing things, so I did that for about an hour or so, or at least until he decided taking up the entire couch was more suited to his nap needs. I did finally send out that newsletter I’d been working on forever; if you’d like to read my measured response to that horror of an op-ed in the New York Times, you can click right here, if you’d like. No pressure!

The Saints lost their preseason game (we didn’t watch; the games don’t matter so I don’t really get into games that are basically practice skirmishes), but these games don’t matter. I had the LSU-Florida game from 2007 on Youtube while I was doing things–prepping for the season–and then Paul came home. I grilled burgers for dinner, and we watched another episode of Furious, which is incredibly well written and acted; Emmy Rossum is fantastic (and always underrated) and it’s walking an interesting line about abuse that I won’t spoil by talking about. Is anyone else watching?

In other sad news, beloved longtime LSU baseball coach Skip Bertman died; Coach Bertman won five College World Series at LSU and built the baseball juggernaut that is the LSU program. I wouldn’t be such a fan of the baseball team were it not for Coach Bertman, and I remember so many great games and finishes while he was guiding the ship. My heart goes out to his friends and family, and I imagine he’s getting a statue on campus at some point. He also kept going to the games after retiring, too–they’d always show him in the stands during the games. It’s going to be weird not having him there anymore.

My birthday looms this week, too; I have taken Thursday and Friday off for a nice long weekend for it. I don’t remember turning sixty, probably because we were still in the throes of the pandemic, and I was buried in work and responsibilities and didn’t notice or make much of it. It’s astonishing to me that I made it this far, frankly; it’s not like the cards weren’t stacked against me. I’m also not one of those “how did the time go by so fast” people, either. It did not go by fast. High school seems like it was in another era completely–and it was very definitely in a different century, wasn’t it? I also like saying things like “well, you know I was born sixteen years after the war ended” or “Kennedy was president when I was born, and I remember Johnson being president, and when Eisenhower died” and seeing the looks on people’s faces. (You also have to remember that I’m at minimum twenty years older at least than everyone at work, besides one person.) Yikes, indeed. I am going to write a newsletter for my birthday–I’m already working on it–that will reflect on me making it to sixty-five somehow (stubbornness, most likely) and so on. We’re going to get a pizza from That’s Amore in Metairie, and we’re going to see the Spider-Man movie, and potentially a Costco run. That sounds good, doesn’t it?

Today I am going to read, and there’s a very short essay I have to get written today as well. I am making Swedish meatballs for dinner tonight (with egg noodles), and hope to get to the floors today, too.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning before work.

Underground wrestler Cason of Thunders Arena. He looks like a lot of fun, doesn’t he?

Everybody

And somehow Saturday has rolled around yet again here in the Lost Apartment. Yesterday was nice; I had my meeting in the morning after sleeping a little late. I did my work at home duty and the laundry and other chores, ordered some groceries, and relaxed some. It was very nice, actually. I relaxed and cleaned and thought about my writing and what to do next with it. Paul went to the gym after he got home from work, and when he got back, we watched The Shards and Reacher–not realizing two episodes of each had dropped, so we have those to get back to along with more Furious. Paul will be out this afternoon, so I have some down time that I am not certain how to use just yet. I also slept later, finally giving in to Sparky’s entreaties and coming down to give him his breakfast, have my own small starter snack with my coffee, and figure out the rest of my day. I feel very relaxed, rested, and good this morning, which is wonderful. I have some chores to do this morning, so once I post this and also send out my newsletter (I finished revising and rewriting it yesterday evening), I’m going to get cleaned up and read for a bit.

I also have to have some things delivered, so I can make dinner today and tomorrow. We’re once again in a heat advisory (shocking, right?), so I am going to want to spend as little time as possible outdoors. And yes, it’s more evidence of the annual selective amnesia New Orleanians have about the heat and humidity in the summer; somehow we’re surprised every year with how hot it gets here. It always amuses me, and I catch myself doing it all the time.

The Saints’ pre-season games start tonight; Jacksonville comes to town. I’ve never understood the point to the pre-season, and no one’s ever been able to explain why it’s necessary to have one to me. Paul and I went to one at the Superdome before the pandemic, but it wasn’t very exciting, there weren’t many people there, and it’s hard to get vested in a game that doesn’t mean anything. But the season will be beginning for college and the pros soon, and I’m looking forward to both the Saints and LSU this year. LSU has a brutal schedule this year, and has a new coach and a new system. So, we’ll have a better idea of who they are going to be this year after the opener with Clemson in Tiger Stadium. I’ll probably rewatch some classic old LSU games–well, have them on in the background while I either read or write or clean–to start getting amped up for the season. I love college football!

I started watching The Burbs, which I am also enjoying; I love Keke Palmer and am enjoying the show so far. (Paul watched it while I was in Alabama last time, so I watch when I have some down time to relax and don’t feel like doomscrolling through Youtube news clips.) I watched the first episode the other night when Paul was late coming home, and I started the second yesterday.

Sorry to be so brief this morning, but don’t really have a lot to say or talk about this morning. This was my first Friday at home without having to deal with something–employee development day, the car, meeting, etc.–and so this is actually my first regular weekend in a while. I am going to put the dishes away and then reload the dishwasher, and then I am going to take my book and read for a little while. I feel terrific this morning, which is a lovely, lovely departure and I intend to enjoy the day no matter how it turns out.

So, on this note I will depart for the spice mines, and hope that you have the loveliest of Saturdays, Constant Reader, and I will be back with a full report in tomorrow morning.

I love New Orleans in the rain.

Papa Don’t Preach

…I’m in trouble deep! Oh, Madonna–another hit song, another controversy. Love her or hate her, I think everyone can agree we’ll never see another artist/star like her. She literally changed the world in so many ways–and IMAGINE how conservatives got upset over a young woman who owned and flaunted her own sexuality…those videos are all so tame now, and even then the haters missed the point of most of them. (Google the controversy about her “Like a Prayer” video, and then actually watch the video. It’s about racism and doing the right thing.)

So here we are on Friday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well. Sparky has been fed and is now curled up under my desk. I slept very well and a little bit later this morning, and feel pretty well rested from a good night’s sleep. I have a meeting on-line in a few hours, some work to get done, and lots of chores to do. I also need to do some reading and writing, and order some things to be delivered. I am going to try not to leave the house this weekend, if at all possible. I want to finish a newsletter and get it sent out tomorrow morning, too. I did wind up getting a bit tired in the afternoon, and had errands to run after work. Traffic heading uptown was absolutely horrible, but with proper a/c in the car it wasn’t terrible. I picked up the mail, a prescription, and a few things at the grocery store–I cut it back because we were in a heat advisory and I didn’t want to have to deal with getting the wagon and so forth, figuring I’d just pay to have it delivered today or tomorrow. What can I say? I’m old and there was a heat advisory called that lasts until tonight at eight, I think. YIKES!

I’ve been listening to Fleetwood Mac and Stevie Nicks records in the car, and I finally decided to make a Rumours playlist, my own mix of the record’s line-up. I’ve always thought it was wrong that “Silver Spring” wasn’t included on that album, and I knew exactly where it belonged: between “Go Your Own Way” and “The Chain,’ replacing “Songbird,” which I replaced “Oh Daddy” with, and added “Fireflies” after “Gold Dust Woman.” This playlist is perfect, frankly. That is exactly where “Silver Spring” belongs, and the three songs all play into each other, like they’re finally in the right order. I also realized that “Songbird” wound up where it is because it was the final song on Side One of the record. and it was a nice mellow way of getting you up to flip the record over. I can’t believe it took me this long to make said playlist, and despite almost fifty years of listening to it in its original order, I don’t expect to hear “Songbird” when “Go Your Own Way” fades out.

The lovely thing about my weekends now is that I have so much free time on them now that I don’t feel like I work very hard on them now, but manage to get things done. It feels like I am being lazy, honestly, but then I am like, but look at what you got done! I’m still adjusting to the last twenty years or so of being insanely busy. It’s kind of nice when your to-do notebook doesn’t have a lot of things in it to do, isn’t it? I am going to make a list just for today–it’s so satisfying to cross things off, it pleases me to no end–so I can make sure to stay on track. I also have a short work week coming up; I’ve taken Thursday and Friday off for my birthday next week. Huzzah!

As for this weekend, I am going to try to get stuff done while relaxing. We’ll see how that goes, but I do want to get Chapters 1-4 checked for continuity issues, the files updated, and work on an strong outline of the first four and get some character work as well. I may work on some short stories, and I may get going on some organization of thoughts for the next Scotty, which will be called New Orleans Nemesis. (I’ve always loved the word nemesis, and I am excited to be using it as a title.) I have some amorphous thoughts rolling around in my head–thoughts that include the pirate Dominique Youx, the German Coast slave rebellion, a prized jewel from the past, the murder of one of Scotty’s ex-friends, and Scotty’s past haunting him yet again.

And the Saints are back for the preseason tomorrow! GEAUX SAINTS! I cannot believe it is almost football season…and on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and going on my day. Have a delightful Friday, Constant Reader, and I will be in the morning. See you then!

Sexy underground wrestler Zack Ramos

My Sins Are My Savior

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well thus far. I am having a very nice weekend, and I do hope you are having one as well, Constant Reader. I’m hoping for another good day today. I’m not sure what Paul’s plans are for the day, but mine will include finding something new to watch, since we finished Cross yesterday. I am tempted, of course, to start The Vampire Lestat but I’d rather wait to watch it until it’s all finished airing. (I’ve always been a bit of an Anne Rice fan-boy, and her connection to New Orleans was one of the things that originally made me think about living here, after reading The Witching Hour, which I should also revisit sometime.) I quite enjoyed Interview with the Vampire, and I might need to revisit those two seasons as well. I just saw yesterday there will be s fourth season, aptly titled The Queen of the Damned, so maybe the entire series will be filmed for television, which would be kind of cool; I did enjoy some of the later books, too. I also like this cast a lot. Anyway, how could I have forgotten Ride or Die? Clearly that would be the best option for our next watch. Octavia Butler and Hannah Wasddingham? Sign me the fuck up.There’s also another film streaming now that I want to see.

I had some groceries delivered, and made baked potatoes for dinner–so delicious with Kerrygold butter, cheddar cheese, fresh ground black pepper, and Maldon salt, with bacon bits and some chives. We’re both trying to eat not only healthier food but smaller portions as well to take off some weight. I bought a new pair of jeans at Costco on Friday (yes, that’s me, the gay fashion plate), and I’d like to get back down to two hundred pounds again, which I think is do-able. Paul worked out with his trainer and then went to the gym to ride the bike for a few hours. Sparky was cuddly and wanted my lap, and I really wanted to finish reading my book…so I put on the 2022 Alabama-LSU game on Youtube while I read and did some things. I finished the laundry and put away the dishes, ordered some groceries to be delivered, and had a very good day overall, despite the late start. When that game finished I put on 2019 LSU-Florida (which we were actually in the stadium for; it was one of my favorite games I’ve attended–the weather was perfect, the game was lit, and the crowd was on fire).

I actually came up with a working title for the new Scotty as well as the opening to the prologue, and the opening of Chapter One as well–and since I also have the disparate threads of plots decided upon, just not how to really tie them all together as of yet; I thought that was some excellent work on a day where I felt like I was being lazy, to be honest. I’ve been writing in my easy chair on the MacBook Air, and I’m getting more and more used to writing on it, so I have less excuses for not writing, which is a good thing.

I also wrote and sent out a new newsletter, which you can read by clicking here! This time out I talk about Lev AC Rosen’s Rough Pages, which I finished yesterday and absolutely loved. I think I am going to reread Larry Kramer’s Faggots next, along with getting back to my reread of The Ivy Tree and I think my next new read will be either Wanda Morris’ latest, or maybe something neither gay nor crime, but will pick out a few today to choose from; I do have so many marvelous books I have yet to read. I ordered copies of Emily Wilson’s translations of The Odyssey and The Iliad, and may get around to the Aeneid, too; it’s been a long ass time and my perspective has shiufted since then. There’s also Celebrity, which a friend reminded me of lately, and I had been thinking about writing about because one of the three main characters is a deeply closted gay man who is also a major movie star–and what I remember about how his sexuality was depicted is, well, pitiful. the life he was living wasn’t enviable, and was actually horrifically sad. I’d like to reread it, not only to reexamine Mack’s depiction but how the book was structured, which I have always felt was intricately built so would like to deconstruct it some.

We also watched Masters of the Universe last night. Nicholas Galitzine looks pretty (despite the lack of fur bikini) and Dolph Lundgren (whio played him in the last live action movie) had a cameo close to the beginning. Despite being visually beautiful and cinematic, as well as clever and funny at times, but the story’s not great; it’s a cartoon story that doesn’t really translate well into a live action big budget film. Masters of the Universe was always an infomercial for toys rather than an actual show, and not much creative thought went into it–He-Man? Skeletor? Evilynn? Sorceress? I remember the Saturday morning cartoon was popular while I worked at Toys R Us. I fucking hated working that aisle, and how stupid I thought the kids who were into it had to be to not recognize how basic and simple everything was. They need so little creativity for their entertainments? I saw the original film in the theater, with Dolph Lundgren and Frank Langella, with a very young Courtney Cox (fresh off that Bruce Springsteen video) and her love interest was the guy who’d played Charlie Brent on All My Children (with Lauren Holly as his love interest, no less–Pine Valley had some very good young talent pass through for teen drama storylines). The movie was fun, but Dolph’s cloak concealed his fur bikini too much for my taste. It was fun and silly and not anything I ever needed to watch again…and I feel the same way about this version. Just empty calories, but there’s nothing wrong with that either. There’s also a strong 1980 Flash Gordon aesthetic I appreciate to the movie–there was even a point where Paul started singing “FLASH! Ah ah, savior of the universe!” and I had been literally thinking the same thing.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will do the same here in New Orleans. See you tomorrow morning!

The ruins of Fort Livingston on Grand Terre Island; another evocative writing-prompt image!

One Step Away

And here we are on a Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is very well. Yesterday was rather nice, overall. I felt rested and got my work done, ran the Costco errand (and yes, it rather wore me out) and then back home to finish the laundry and rest and relax and cool off. I do feel pretty good this morning, too.

I finally got the idea for the next Scotty book yesterday–as always, I had all these disparate threads I couldn’t see how to bring together, and it all coalesced for me yesterday. Pirates and pirate treasure? The murder of a former friend turned homophobic racist piece of shit? Halloween? Yes, yes, it all came to me yesterday, but now I have to do the necessary research to do it properly. I already have some of it on hand, of course, and this is one of those instances where the history doesn’t have to be 100% accurate, either; one of the problems with New Orleans history is that so much of it is lore and legend arising out of gossip and oral history, with all the problems inherent in said researches. I also need to organize my short story writing, based on submission calls I want to answer; energy will be the key to getting all this done, and now it’s absolutely one hundred percent about being lazy and not forcing myelf to do it when I don’t feel like doing anything other than sitting in my easy mindlessly scrolling through Youtube clips on the news, history, sports…I can get lost in there for hours.

It didn’t seem terribly hot, until I got into the car yesterday. I thought I might melt before the air conditioning began blowing blessedly cold air. Costco was actually rather fun and I didn’t feel in the least bit tired or grumpy–and hadn’t really eaten since breakfast, so the chance of hanger was also highly probable, but no. They had no boxes and Paul was ordering a new pair of glasses, so I loaded everything into the back of the car, and was very hot (I brought insulated bags for the frozen/refrigerated things, which also made them easier to carry into the house.) There was parking in front of the house (huzzah!), but bringing everything in was exhausting and sweat-inducing and yes, was feeling rather nasty by the time I’d put things into the fridge and could collapse for a moment in my chair–which was seen as an invitation by Sparky to curl up in my lap, and of course I couldn’t make a sleeping, comfortable, safe-feeling cat wake up from such a deep slumber. I just let myself accept that I needed rest, and a purring, sleeping cat is just the trick, you know? How do people without cats do without that marvelously restful experience? It’s a bit beyond me, and I don’t intend to ever find out. I spent the evening watching the news and old football clips of LSU (trying to get my excitement for the new season to start amping up until Labor Day weekend) before catching an episode of Sugar before going to bed. I slept marvelously well and even slept a little later than usual this morning. I need to order some groceries to be delivered later on, and we got the mail yesterday so that can wait again until Monday. It’s beginning to look like I won’t need to go outside very much this weekend, and that is a very good thing, as we are back to the dog days of this summer and it’s going to be miserable from now until September.

I’m hoping to have a good day today, one way or the other. Once this is posted I am heading to my easy chair to read for a bit (while putting on a replay of an old LSU game for background noise), and I also want to reread what I have written thus far on an essay for the newsletter as well as Chlorine, so I can get back to writing them both and hopefully finish the essay by the end of the weekend. The ongoing chores (dishes, laundry) are already done, so I can do some chores that I all-too-frequently never manage to get around to. Or not; the day can also be played by ear all day, too, and so who knows what it holds?

I guess Andrew Tate is on solitary but somehow has access to the Internet to post about being in prison? Aw, sucks to be him. Get used to it, buddy, and I don’t think you’re going to do well in general population, but sure, demand it. I’m sure there are any number of young convicts who will be interested in your theories about alpha males. Have fun with that, rapist.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines with my book and another cup of coffee. Have a simply marvelous Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will be back again tomorrow morning.

Carlos Alcaraz for Vanity Fair

Good for the Soul

Work-at-home Friday! Huzzah! I was a bit on the tired side yesterday, which was to be expected. I had to go to work in person every day last week, and I always am a little tired come Thursdays. It was surprisingly pleasant outside when I went to work yesterday morning–in the low eighties–and everything was glistening and wet from the previous night’s rains. The city was also low-key and kind of mellow, too. It was a slow day at the office, and I decided not to head uptown after work to run my few errands, I was a bit tired and I forgot my list, too. I want to get a lot of cleaning and organizing done this weekend, and I also have a lot of quality assurance to get caught up on today. We’re going to go to Costco later , which is also going to be incredibly expensive, especially since it’s been so long since we’ve gone. Over a month, I’d say–or at least since Paul’s surgery, and that was definitely a while back. (I have ordered some things to be delivered from them–not much of anything, really–but supplies are low.) But…the tired wasn’t too bad, I did some chores when I got home, we watched an episode of Cross, and I caught up on the news, which was either not horribly depressing or I’m becoming deadened and desensitized; I’m not sure which. And I came down to a picked-up apartment, and a clean kitchen, so am already off to a good start this morning. The first load of blankets are in the washer, and I need to unload the dishwasher.

I also have chores to do today around the work and the errands, and I would also like to get some writing time in, too. It will, of course, entirely depend on how long everything takes and how tired I het doing everything. It was cool when I left the office yesterday–for this time of year, mind you–and there was a lovely breeze. The car was an oven, though. I did sleep in a bit this morning before Sparky became insistent on being fed. I feel pretty good so far this morning and my coffee is excellent, so no complaints here.

I am missing the World Cup, honestly; what a delightful few weeks that was. I’m very glad that Spain beat Argentina; what a pathetic group of sore losers and dirty players. That great player of theirs (I won’t mention his poor sport ass name) is also a piece of shit, apparently; decades of being ‘the greatest’ etc, only to throw it all away as a poor sport. Always remember the Nazi to Argentina pipeline, and I will always wonder why they made a musical glorifying that fascist grifter Eva Peron. I’ve never gotten a good answer to the question. Some gays don’t like having their theater standards questioned, but why not do one on Imelda Marcos? She actually fancied herself a singer, at least. I am missing the world cup, though. There’s any number of monstrous fascist women in history; did Eva stand out because she started out as a prostitute and actress?

Oh, well, college football will be here before we know it, and then my weekends will be built around college football and the Saints–errands on Fridays and Sundays only, etc. I’m cautiously optimistic about both LSU and the Saints this year, but LSU’s schedule is brutal. Auburn, Alabama, Mississippi, Texas, Texas A&M, Florida and Tennessee, and the opener is Clemson. That’s eight games they could lose, right there. Oh, well. Fingers crossed! Hope always springs eternal down here on the bayou.

I am also hoping that having a “normal” weekend will set me back to normality. I feel good and rested already this morning, which is delightful, and of course my coffee is starting to hit me with its best shot…I should get out the espresso machine this weekend and make myself some cappuccinos, because it’s been a hot hot minute. We’re apparently in a heat advisory all weekend, too, and into next week again. And yes, it would be nice to stay inside all weekend, but I will run those other errands tomorrow, because I don’t think we’ll be out of this heat any time soon.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and wherever you are, stay hydrated! I’ll be back bright and early tomorrow morning, so until then, be safe!

Heracles battling the Hydra. It’s always bugged me that people use his Roman name when talking about Greek mythology; in Greek, his name was HERACLES. In other words, if you’re talking about Zeus and Hera, his nam is Heracles. If you say Hercules, you need to use Jupiter and Juno. (I blame Disney for a lot of this, but it happened before their movie, too.) I’ve also kind of always wanted to write about him, too.

Prisoner of Love

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week, which is pretty cool. Yesterday was a pretty good day, really. I woke up several times during the night, sadly, but feel pretty rested and awake for this late in the week. I guess I am finally getting used to getting up early, after all these years. Then again, the fatigue issues were always related to the ulcerative colitis, so I definitely had the wrong impression about being in my sixties. AN enormous relief there, you know. After work I came straight home and turned myself into a cat bed for Sparky (who is not the lithe kitten he once was but still thinks he is) and we watched this week’s episode of Widow’s Bay and started season two of Running Point, whose first season we enjoyed before going to bed. I didn’t do any writing or reading yesterday, but hope to get back in that proverbial saddle again today. I also have to run some errands tonight on the way home–mail, pick up a prescription–and then, I am hoping I won’t have to leave the house very much over the weekend. Next weekend is a four day one, and then I am driving up to Alabama later this month to meet Dad for their anniversary. And then it’s July, and the dog days of summer have truly begun here.

And before you know it, it’s football season again.

I do need to set some goals for this summer, and all of them have to do with writing. I need to clean out the storage attic sooner rather than later, which is a good project for the summer. I also want to get some short stories out on sub, and I want to get this draft of the book finished, so I can get going on the next Scotty–Twelfth Night Knavery–by the end of this year and maybe get that done as well. I also want to get some essays for the newsletter finished this weekend; I am behind schedule but since I have set said schedule and the only person disappointed by my failure is me–and it really doesn’t bother me all that much. But I also don’t need to sit around all weekend wasting time, either.

I recently came across yet another catastrophic hurricane to hit New Orleans; the 1893 Cheniere Caminada hurricane of 1893, which destroyed the town it’s named after in Jefferson Parish when it came ashore. So many destructive hurricanes have come through here since the French built the first hut on the banks of the river way back in the eighteenth century–there has to be a book about the hurricane history of New Orleans, doesn’t there? As much as I would love to read one, I don’t want to write one! If I knew how to do research properly, once I was retired I could write some marvelous nonfiction because there are so many archives here in the city; New Orleans has always done its best to document itself, even if the original sources may be unreliable. (I think of the time wasted reading the old books about New Orleans history, which weren’t trustworthy; men like Robert Tallant and Harnett Kane and others, wrote horribly racist histories which were all mostly lore and legend rather than actual fact. They were entertaining, sure, but oh my GOD the racism is abhorrent.)

I’m thinking about writing a new series, honestly; set in a small town down in the bayou with supernatural creatures and murders. I know, it sounds like a ripoff of Charlaine–which is why this idea, which I’ve had since the 1990s (and more of a Dark Shadows riff rather than Charlaine’s books), and last night I did figure out how to bring the main character to this spooky parish down the bayou.

I also need to get the print-on-demand for Bourbon Street Blues done at some point, and then get the ebook of Jackson Square Jazz (and the pod) up, and I also want to get a short story collection up, too.

SO much to do, occasionally feel like I want to do it all, and of course I wind up taking more down time than I should and….yeah, whatever.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, and I thank you as always for stopping by. See you tomorrow!

Maybe dreams can come true and I will see Egypt before I die! An aerial view of the Luxor temple.

Right Time of the Night

Up early to get labs drawn this morning, work-at-home Friday. These are for my gastrointestinal specialist doctor, whom I will be seeing in a couple of weeks. It rained most of yesterday and last night; and it’s cloudy and gray with thunderstorms in the forecast for this afternoon. I also got a notice from Entergy that we were having a scheduled power outage this afternoon–weather permitting–and I doubt that is going to happen if there’s such a strong probability of rain. I also appreciate the massive notice they gave us; so glad I went and made groceries last night. It’s probably not going to happen–it’s to replace a circuit breaker, so a thunderstorm is probably not the best time for it, but it’s still kind of annoying. I am debating whether I should buy a bag of ice on the way home from my labs. Ice is cheap, so it’s not really a terrible waste of money. And it certainly can’t hurt. I just need to rearrange things in the freezer. Heavy sigh. And the forecast changed while I was getting the lab work done. Sigh. Looks like we’re going to lose power after all, as the thunderstorms are now forecast for later in the afternoon.

Ah, well. I don’t need power to pick things up or read, do I?

I was planning on finishing Jordan Harper’s A Violent Masterpiece this weekend, but with no power I will probably finish it today. I also want to start my reread of Mary Stewart’s The Ivy Tree, and am deciding on my next nonfiction–Hollywood history–which will come in handy while writing Chlorine–the Harper, also a Hollywood story, also is inspirational for me. I always find inspiration in reading great writers. I don’t know about other authors, but it’s certainly the case with me. On the other hand, I’ve never really cared much how other authors do their work. Anyway, the two nonfictions I am looking at are L.A. Noir by John Buntin, or Gary Krist’s The Mirage Factory; probably going for the Krist, as I have greatly enjoyed his work before. Baby steps to get there, right? Getting there, slowly but surely.

I managed to get the mail and make groceries (so of course the power will go out for four hours) and made it home intact and not too terribly tired. I did fold the laundry, so that was something, and then pretty much chilled out catching up on the news (eep) until Paul got home. We watched an episode of Spartacus: House of Ashur, which isn’t very good other than gratuitous male skin (including full frontal) and violence–and the intense homoeroticism of men living and training together and fighting each other makes it of pretty high interest to gay men. Kind of like how homoerotic all the gym bros’ posts are, or the whole “alpha male” mythology. Newsflash: we aren’t wolves. Anyway, this mediocrity of plot and story has me wondering if the original series was as good as I remembered, or if it would not hold up today. Maybe I should rewatch at some point? If only I had more time!

I got a credit card bill in my email yesterday, which was kind of indicative of how bad things in the country are. I had used a phone app to use to fill my tank on the way to my uncle’s funeral, to earn some points and unlock a discount for the next time I used it, and the payment was deferred for a month. The bill? $18.09. Insult to injury? I had just filled the tank the night before for $42.09, and I have a high gas mileage car with a small tank. It more than doubled. So, MAGA, tell me, has your economic anxiety lessened? Or was it really just your miserable mediocrity and racism after all? I know what I think. Fuck you all, by the way.

So, Lane Kiffin hired Ed Orgeron as a recruiter and a defensive assistant. Coach O back on the LSU sidelines! Despite his big flameout, he is still very beloved as a native son here, and he did create the greatest college football team of all time. They go back to when they were assistants at USC, and I will always have a soft spot for Coach O.

And some good news, apparently there’s a strong El Niño effect, so hurricane season should be milder this year. Still have to keep an eye out, of course, but maybe our luck will hold for another year.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a fabulous Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning,

I love these old German castles in the winter, which always makes them look like fairytale castles.

Wichita Lineman

I am a lineman for the county…

This song, today’s title, came up on social media (which is neither) recently–I’m not sure when–but it reminded me not only of the song, which I love, and Jimmy Webb wrote for Glen Campbell, but was covered by any number of other artists. Go figure, right? My parents took us to see Campbell in concert in Chicago when we were kids–Mom and Dad did a lot of fun stuff with us–and while I don’t remember much of it, I know we enjoyed it.

I’m on my second cup of coffee this morning and I still feel a bit tired this morning. It’s fine; I did manage to get some chores done yesterday around being in my easy chair and resting–I did the laundry including the bed linens–so yesterday wasn’t a total write-off. We started watching House of Ashur (Paul: “it’s soft core gay porn with violence and blood”) and Amadeus (not sure why it needed a retelling in a mini-series, but visually it’s stunning) and I also did a lot of The Traitors Canada, moving from Season One on to Season Two. I love that in Season 2 they clearly watched–and are completely unafraid to mention–the previous season as they make references to what happened. Karine Vanesse has long been a favorite of mine, too. Her looks are often bold choices that don’t always land, but if it was me hosting, I would go so over the top it would be insane. One day I would be a musketeer, another I would be Louis XIV, then a pirate and…you get the idea.

I woke up to the glorious news that all five constitutional amendments proposed by the governor and his lickspittle legislature tried to shove down our throats for whatever nefarious purposes; the only one that was remotely close was the one about teacher pay. Bill Cassidy was thoroughly rebuked by Louisiana Republicans, which makes it look as though Trump has a lot of power and pull still in Louisiana…although more Republicans voted for someone else other than Trump’s anointed. Julia Letlow did win the primary, but didn’t get a majority. So, we don’t really know if this result was because of the impeachment vote–or for being an actual doctor and voting to confirm RFK Jr, or some combination of both. MAGA can’t be counting on their votes coalescing behind Letlow, either, in the general. This is very good news, and cause for hope. The rejection of the amendments is a strong rebuke to an unpopular governor and an unpopular legislature, too–they made the huge mistake of coming for New Orleans on top of their sheer incompetence and corruption. So, the general election and the progress of the recall petitions are unknowns, which hasn’t been an issue here since–well, since a Black man became president and everyone got their Klan robes dry cleaned. I’m not in the least bit sorry to see the useless wind chime Cassidy gone.

This morning I’m feeling a little bit tired still from yesterday. When I finish this I am probably going to go read for a bit. My mind was tired yesterday, too, so I didn’t read or write at all yesterday, but you know, I did a lot on Friday and exerted myself a great deal. My newsletter, about Carol Goodman’s marvelous The Sonnet Lover, also went out as scheduled (you can read it here), which also pleased me to no end. I do have to get the next ones for the week ready. I really am enjoying these longer-form entries, but I sometimes worry that it’s overkill on top of the blog here, which I still try to do every day. It won’t stop me, of course–I always do as I please, which is kind of a nice way to live. I probably should have gotten medicated for anxiety much earlier–a few years of it has certainly turned my life and attitude towards it around. My garden of fucks grows more barren and fallow every day, and while the old “pick me pick me” desperation still comes out every once in a great while, I shrug it off with a “why do I care” thought. Because I don’t. I don’t care if people like me or not. I also don’t feel any disgrace for any behavior before that was anxiety-driven. My brain was wired wrong, and there’s no need to feel embarrassment or shame about it, either.

I’m still not used to being easy on myself, but I like it much better than the way things used to be.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely one, Constant Reader, and I will check in on you again tomorrow morning. Till then!

Personal trainer and fitness influencer Dave Rich. Handsome face and flawless body, but the eyes make him stand out in a world of perfect bodies.