Tag: ESPN

Take a Bow

Thursday morning and I got up before my alarm, wide awake and feeling rested. Weird, right? On a THURSDAY last day in the office for the week morning? Madness. Sparky is also being super-affectionate this morning. He keeps wanting to sit on my shoulders, so he can head-butt me and purr up there while I walk around doing things. I don’t mind, I just don’t know why he is some mornings and some mornings he isn’t. Of course it doesn’t make sense because cat, but I can’t help but try to make sense of it, because I ain’t right in the head, you know?

Last night wasn’t bad. I headed uptown to pick up the mail (my copy of The Miracle at St. Bruno’s that I got from ebay, more on that later) and swung by the grocery store to make a few bags. I came home, Sparky needed a lap, and that was the end of that. I watched news and examined my new book–a paperback in pristine condition, like I picked it up off the rack at Zayre like I did my original copy–and watched the news—along with any number of videos ripping Ed Sheeran1 and Robert Kraft new assholes. Paul brought a pizza home for dinner, which was lovely, and we watched LSU-The Difference on ESPN, a documentary series they are filming for this season (think ESPN isn’t all in on LSU? I don’t they are doing one for every top team in the country, and there wasn’t a guarantee LSU would be any good this year, and really, still can’t be sure how good they are anyway at this point). I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home and put everything away, but…I slept very well for the first time this week, and it felt marvelous. I think we’re going to Costco tomorrow after work, too. Huzzah!

I’ve fallen down a wormhole of Internet research thanks to a Facebook friend who shared a post about a “ghost ship” that can be seen under the right conditions on the Tombigbee River in southwest Alabama, the Eliza Battle. The ship was a classic steamboat of the era (which I will always associate–steamboats, that is–with Mark Twain), transporting cotton bales and passengers when a fire broke out in the cotton and the entire ship went up in flames before sinking. I like the idea of a ghost steamboat (I am also partial to steamboats, maybe I should write about that sometime), which could make an interesting story. I love these old folk tales of Southern states, and feel like some of them could be used to write novels or short stories; I’ve been trying to write one about the legend of Freniere and the 1915 Hurricane, which wiped the town out, for years now. Learning Alabama and Louisiana history, legends, and lore is ever so much fun, too!

Has the entire world gone mad? After the Pink meltdown, the Ed Sheeran disaster, and Arch Manning proving he has no home training, I pretty much thought we were done with ignorant celebrity bullshit, but Sarah Paulson decided to say hold my beer and gave an incredibly tone-deaf white woman interview, in which she expressed disappointment that her Black male costars on The People v. O. J. Simpson got movie offers and she didn’t–she was trying to make the point that it’s more difficult for women to get parts in movies because those roles are few and far between for women, whereas male-centered movies are a dime a dozen. It was tone-deaf to make the comparison with two Black actors, who face an entirely but equally horrifying different kind of fight–yes, they are men, but they aren’t white men. And she left out the most obvious reasons producers don’t think about her when they’re casting–girl, you’re an out and proud lesbian. Hollywood is not only misogynist and racist, but it’s also incredibly homophobic. It’s getting better, but there are still an endless amount of problems in that “liberal” community.

Speaking of homophobia, I kind of love that congressional candidate Chris Gallant did, in his pre-politician life, posed in BDSM gear and there are also pictures of him on Fire Island in his underwear. YAWN. He’s running for a House seat on Long Island, is an openly gay former Marine and firefighter…and the only thing his MAGA opponent can come up with is him posing for some sexy pictures that exposed nothing prurient and was in the past…newsflash: most gay men, have sexy photos of themselves, in bathing suits at the very least, and more have nudes than a straight person might realize. I also love that he’s being defiant and refusing to be shamed out of the race. Pictures in BDSM gear doesn’t mean you’re into BDSM, and if you are, who the fuck cares? ANd seriously, the party of MAGA and the buffoon they worship has some fucking nerve trying to morality police anyone. Yo, you’re party leader is a pedophile rapist psychopath. Why don’t you start policing him? Anyway, I donated a little to his campaign.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely, lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning on work-at-home Friday!

  1. I’ve taken to calling him “Gingerdoodle.” ↩︎

Survival

Tuesday after the holiday and it’s back to the office with me today. It feels like I’ve not gone into the office for weeks, weird how that works, isn’t it? But it was a nice, if weird, holiday weekend. I’m still aglow from the LSU game Saturday–trying not to get my hopes up, as it is still very early in the season, but it’s nice to win the season opener two years in a row, and again, 51-10 was something I didn’t see coming. The beating was so bad that Dabo Swinney is really in the hot seat. They weren’t even competitive...which nobody saw coming, even though Clemson hasn’t been operating at the level they did in the previous decade. LSU ended their championship run six years ago, and now it looks like LSU may have cost them their coach. Yeah, no wonder they don’t like us very much, beyond the whole “real Death Valley” nonsense (clearly it’s in Baton Rouge, duh).

A really marvelous thunderstorm rolled in yesterday morning as I sat in the living room, catching up on the news (and rolling my eyes any number of times) and watching more college football chatter. I felt very rested yesterday when I got up, but not especially motivated to do much of anything. So, I didn’t. I literally did little to nothing yesterday, and wasted the entire day and honestly, I can’t even begin to tell you how I spent that time. I know I watched a lot of sports news about the college football results this past weekend, and I did do a load of laundry. I need to get back in the writing saddle again soon, but it was nice just doing nothing for three days and just letting everything recharge. As I expected, though, the entire sports media industrial complex has completely turned around regarding LSU and Lane Kiffin. Everyone was calling for his head Saturday morning, LSU’s highest ranking anywhere was 11 (which was kind of high, in my opinion, given last year), and for the SEC to expel LSU and the NCAA to fine them out of existence. No one is talking about that anymore, are they? And if they do, it’s to say well he didn’t need them did he? It’s also kind of insane that ESPN has them ranked Number 2 now. This is why I pay so little attention to the broadcasters who are paid to fill silence; they always need something to talk about and often make much out of very little.

I’ve decided that my next read is going to be The Shards, by Bret Easton Ellis. Why not? The show is weird, but there’s something interesting there that might work much better in a book–and several people who’ve read the book love it, and despise the show with a raw intensity that usually is inspired by something like casting Tom Cruise as Reacher. I didn’t care for Less Than Zero when I first read it (don’t get me started on the movie; the best thing about it was the soundtrack), but I really liked The Rules of Attraction, which is something that I usually don’t care about–rich kids and their rich kid problems, cry me a river–so I’m willing to give another Ellis a try. The opening sentence is either brilliant or a sad example of pomposity; I guess I’ll find out the further I read into it.

This is a short work week, and I actually feel good this morning–it must be the coffee, although I did sleep deeply and well last night. The apartment isn’t that bad, considering how little I did this weekend, but doing the dishes always makes it look tidier. I am going to try to get a lot done at the office this week, too–we are always busy after Southern Decadence–and I need to start writing and reading more again. It’s like my brain went on hiatus after my birthday, and of course, that makes sense. I spent my birthday long weekend doing nothing, and that interruption has made it hard to get back into the sadle again. It doesn’t take much to talk myself out of doing it, which is always a problem, and always has been my primary problem. I also can’t write as fast or as much as I used to, but that could also be rust and atrophy.

We did watch some of the US Open yesterday–Coco Gauff is looking good–and got caught up on Lanterns last night, which is really excellent and we are really enjoying it. I also watched this week’s Real Housewives Ultimate Girls Trip, which has been going mostly well but….it looks like the show is about to get more housewife-y in the next few episodes.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will see you again tomorrow morning.

Human Nature

Labor Day Monday, and another day free from the shackles of my day job. I do like my job, I just don’t like getting up in the morning and going in. Yesterday was yet another heat advisory, so all the gays down in the Quarter were all sweaty and probably stripped down to barely decent (which was always my favorite thing about Southern Decadence). W were supposed to have more rain yesterday, too, which never materialized, either. (We’re supposed to get more today, too, but it’s looking pretty sunny out there beyond the windows.) Yesterday was a very lazy day around here. I didn’t have very much energy and ended up not doing much of anything. I didn’t feel good, either, which was part of it. Lethargic and listless and off, is the best way I can put it. I don’t think I slept well after staying up too late watching the LSU game, which I still am in a little bit of disbelief about. I thought we’d win, but I figured it would be more of a game/challenge than that. I did not have 51-10 on my bingo card, either; that’s the kind of outcome you fantasize about beforehand, only to shake your head and laugh a little bit. (I also see this morning that ESPN has moved LSU up in their rankings to Number 2–a bit of an overreaction, since we have no idea whether Clemson will be 11-1 or 1-11 or somewhere in between yet.)

Yesterday was very lazy around here again, since I didn’t feel good. (I feel much better this morning, honestly, like night and day.) I literally just sat in my easy chair and let Youtube scroll through videos all day while I played on my laptop all day. I can’t even remember anything that I watched! Paul stayed upstairs and worked all afternoon, and didn’t come down to the early evening. I did watch some of the USOpen for a while, but wasn’t really getting into it. But we did watch two episodes of Lanterns, which is really good. Kyle Chandler is great as Hal Jordan, and Aaron Pierre is perfect as John Stewart. I had seen a lot of people on-line upset about Episode 3 being “woke”–as if having a Black Green Lantern wasn’t already woke, and the character has been around for decades, making him vitally important in the history of comics and super-heroes. Get over yourselves, losers. Lanterns is one of the best super-hero shows I’ve seen; hopefully they will continue at this high level. I always liked Green Lantern, becoming more familiar with him through the Green Arrow/Green Lantern team comics, and hated that movie they made with Ryan Reynolds, who was wrong for the part of Hal Jordan, and the script was pretty terrible, too.

As for today, I can either be productive or be lazy or some combination of the two. I am not planning on anything, but I am just going to let the day develop as it usually does, organically, without trying to force anything. Next weekend will be the Saints season opener, so we’ll be watching that and the USOpen finals next Sunday–oh, wait, today isn’t Sunday, is it? I am a little discombobulated, obviously, by this holiday weekend and being so under the weather yesterday. I do feel more rested today than I did yesterday morning, which is very lovely and nice, and maybe–just maybe–my mind will be able to focus enough to read and maybe even do some writing. I know, enough crazy talk.

So, now I am going to get another cup of coffee, make some breakfast, get cleaned up and moving on the day. Hope you have a lovely holiday, Constant Reader, and I will be back here in the morning again before I head into the office. See you then!

Waiting

Guten morgen, Samstag! Hope you’re doing well, Constant Reader, on this first day of the holiday weekend. Today is also the first Saturday of college football, with games on all day. I don’t care about most of them, honestly, but will probably watch Baylor-Auburn this afternoon and of course, LSU-Clemson tonight. I am sure I am going to hear endless commentary on Coach Kiffin and these lawsuits, which is not going to be fun to listen to, especially since there are very few “analysts” on ESPN whose opinions I respect or take seriously. They’re paid to talk, period, and most of the time during games they are just bullshitting with each other about nothing I want to know anything about.

Yesterday was rather chill and lovely, the kind of Friday I truly enjoy. It started off differently–me having to get labs drawn and then go to the office for a meeting, after which I ran errands. I didn’t have nearly enough coffee, and by the time I was finally home and working it was nearly noon, which is too late for me to have more. I also didn’t have lunch until later, but managed to get a nice flow going, with chores and work and so I got more done than I would have thought, and was feeling pretty good and rested most of the day. We watched Venus and Serena play doubles at the US Open, which took care of most of the night. I made Swedish meatballs last night–they were very tasty–but as a result have a messy kitchen this morning, which I’ll have to do something about. But I feel very rested this morning, which is terrific, and I have until 2:30 to do things around here before the Auburn-Baylor game. I need to order some things for delivery, too. I’ll cook out around five-ish for our “tailgate” like I always do, and since there’s football to be watched (reading while the afternoon game is on), I won’t get any writing done. I’ll clean and organize and read while the games are on, and this morning I need to order groceries for delivery. The Saints don’t play until next Sunday, so I imagine we’ll have the US Open on all day Sunday. And of course, there’s also Monday, and a short work week this week.

But it’s somehow September already, with a few more months to go before 2027 rolls around. We also have the midterm election insanity to get through, too. Heavy sigh. I am not optimistic, and I certainly don’t trust polls, and I absolutely do not trust the Heritage Foundation or the Federalist Society, let alone the billionaires and Elon. (And no, I will never forgive any of the people who voted for this. Ever. No sympathy or charity from me, thank you very much, and none of you are taking any responsibility. You absolutely voted for this; if you didn’t see it as clearly as the rest of us, that isn’t our fault. Own up to your bigotry and racism for once in your miserable existences, do self reflection, and maybe–just maybe–I’ll try to forget what fucking ignorant hateful trash you are. Someday, maybe, but certainly not any time soon.)

Meh, this may turn out to be a recharge day and you know, that’s okay, too. I just ordered the groceries to be delivered and am about to get a second cup of coffee (or “joe,” if you want to be hard-boiled about it) and maybe put some bread in the toaster. I also need to wash my face again, and may as well get cleaned up once I finish breakfast and post this. (The play-by-play is fascinating, isn’t it?) Sparky let me sleep past seven this morning, and was lying against me when I woke up like the sweet boy he is. I don’t want to clean up this kitchen, but I can’t really do anything in here until I do. Maybe the toast and second cup will finish the job of waking me up and making me lively. It’s not that I don’t have energy this morning, I’m just not having a lot of luck summoning it up at the moment, hee hee. (This, by the way, is why I call myself lazy–instead of getting to work I just laze around instead of doing anything productive and make excuses for it. (I may have the anxiety under control, more or less, now–but my brain still clearly has a lot of issues.)

And on that note, I am going to finish my toast and second cup and am about to head to my easy chair for a few moments, and I’ll probably read for a bit. The groceries will be here between 12 and 2, and I can get a lot done before then, methinks. Or not. We’ll see. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again in the morning.

It’s amazing how many muscle groups he had to engage to take that shirt off, isn’t it?

Doing the Best That I Can

Sunday in the Lost Apartment and all is quiet here. Today’s four parades start later this morning and literally run all day. I suspect I’m going to skip them all today. I wandered out to Iris, but just can’t stand for very long; I’m just not in good enough physical condition yet to exert myself into anything other than sitting in a chair resting and icing my ankles, which I did for quite some time yesterday. I overslept in the morning–Sparky was cuddled up with me again, with the occasional plaintive “mew” to try to wake me up. The bed did feel marvelous yesterday morning, but the morning was already pretty much over by the time I was caffeinated and finished with yesterday’s blog entry. I read for a while (and this reread of The Secret of Hangman’s Inn is showing me, at long last, the primary flaw in kids’ detective fiction–which is also why The Three Investigators have held up better than most of their contemporaries), and did some here and there chores. I don’t, after all, have to go back to the office until Wednesday morning, so having another day that was mostly for resting my body and my brain didn’t seem like a waste, you know?

I finished rewatching Judgment at Nuremberg and it remarkably holds up still in modern times. Not going to lie, and if the reasons I rewatched it aren’t quite as obvious in this modern time, let me explai it to you: we are, despite all the lessons and warnings from the past, sliding into that same kind of world where “just following orders” is no longer merely about ‘doing your job’ but doing evil. Nuremberg is one of the best films–if American propaganda heavy–dealing with these questions of national guilt and national morality; I remember someone writing (or saying) after 1945 how amazing it was that no German was really a Nazi and how none of them “knew.”

Did people admit shamefacedly to being in the Klan after? Still?

I’ve always given the common German people a bit of slack about being Nazis, simply because, monstrous as Nazism was, they weren’t making the plans and the decisions. So, how much culpability did the rank-and-file people actually bear? The cogs in the killing machine?

For example, how culpable are all Americans in what is going on in the country now? Was it possible for every day Germans to not know what was being done in their name?

We don’t know what’s going on in our own concentration camps, do we? But we know they exist and more are being built, don’t we? As Americans, how much culpability do we have as citizens? It is easy to say “we didn’t vote for this” or “I was opposed to Vietnam” or “dropping nuclear weapons on Japan was necessary to save American lives” or “my ancestors didn’t own slaves/weren’t in the Klan/didn’t benefit from systemic discrimination” but…wasn’t enslavement human trafficking, and on a scale modern minds can scarcely comprehend how big it was, how horrible it was, and historians and American propagandists have done an excellent job of downplaying the horrors and dismissing the immorality of owning other people. Human beings had less rights than animals in the so-called land of the free; and this is not even taking into consideration the genocide of the indigenous peoples and the mistreatment of those survivors for generations. History will not look back and think all of that horror was unknown to most Americans. They will say it was a horrible part of US History, a spreading stain that soaked in and spread for hundreds of years. Is not the whole world responsible for not stopping Hitler when they could have? The Allies knew about the camps as early as 1940, if not sooner, and did not only nothing but actively worked to suppress the information. Why?

And there were American Nazis before the war–lots of them. Still are, in fact. So much for never forgetting, right?

Heavy thoughts on Bacchus Sunday, but Judgment at Nuremberg is a still important and necessary film.

After the movie finished, we watched The Fighting Tiger, the ESPN documentary on D-D Breaux, the legendary LSU Gymnastics coach for over forty years, who single-handedly built the program up from nothing, which was incredibly fun and also reminded me of how long Paul and I have been watching LSU Gymnastics. I had been meaning to check out this most recent season of The Traitors, because Johnny Weir and Tara Lipinski are both on, so I switched over to that. We’d never watched the show before, but MY GOD were we entertained! I was kind of hesitant because I despise Lisa Rinna (a complete turn on her, by the way; I was a fan before she was a real housewife), but this show is perfect for her! She stopped being fun as a housewife, but this is the Rinna I enjoyed in her first seasons on the show. We stayed up much later than we intended because we simply couldn’t turn it off–and there are former seasons to catch up on, too! HUZZAH!!!

It looks like its going to be another gorgeous day out on the parade route–maybe I’ll wander down there to take some pictures; tomorrow I plan on walking over to Office Depot and take some current pictures of the bead trees; one of the many things I miss about our office on Frenchmen Street is walking to and from there during parade season, and all the bead debris along the way. There was also a racist moment in Tucks yesterday, apparently, with some riders hanging a black doll over the side of the float by the neck with beads–so it looked like a lynching victim, which is completely and totally disgusting and unacceptable. I hope the fucks who did it are publicly named and shamed; they deserve worse. There’s no excuse for that shit ever–let alone during Carnival. They should have been pulled off the float and had the shit kicked out of them.

And on that note, my easy chair and my ice machine are calling me this morning. Seriously, I cannot wait for Paul to get up so we can get back to The Traitors, which is my new addiction! Have a great Sunday wherever you are, and I’ll be back for a Lundi Gras post tomorrow.

Baby Girl

Pay-the-Bills Wednesday has rolled around again somehow, and somehow it’s already December. How did that happen? Going away for nearly a week has messed with my head a little bit, hasn’t it? But this morning I feel good and rested–odd for the midweek, don’t you agree?–but I also slept well. I had to turn the heat on last night when I got home from work with the groceries, and it’s snug and cozy in here this morning. (I am starting to like the cold weather, which is wild, isn’t it? I always exaggerated how much I didn’t like cold weather, but it seriously doesn’t bother me anymore.) We were busy in the clinic yesterday, and I think I will be again this morning, too. I was a bit tired when I got off work and headed to the store to make groceries. I didn’t get as much done when I got home as I’d hoped–the apartment was very cold, and I huddled under a blanket in my chair with Sparky while catching up on the news–my, what a shit-show we as a nation have turned into–before actually taking a short nap in my easy chair before getting up to do some things before going to bed. It’s forty-one outside this morning (!!!) but I am not minding that at all. Go figure. My theory is that the snow earlier this year snapped me out of a lifelong hatred of cold weather. Stranger things have happened, after all.

The professional bull-shitters, aka ESPN’s line-up of talking heads and morons who blather on endlessly without providing any real information but like you to believe their opinions are based in something, have continued to drag Lane Kiffin for going to LSU. I hate to break it to y’all, but all you’re doing is endearing him even more to Louisiana and Tiger Nation. I watched his initial press conference on Youtube last night (I couldn’t watch it live as I was at work Monday) and I have to say, he kind of won me over. Will he bail on LSU the same way he did to Tennessee and Mississippi? Possibly, sure. But welcome to college football in the twenty-first century, and it’s not like the players can’t leave the way they used to not be able to when their coach went somewhere else. And really, the timelines on how things are set up aren’t conducive to not screwing schools and teams over in this manner. I get the bitterness and disappointment for Mississippi and their fans; I’d be pissed if that happened at LSU, and they–and the Tennessee fans still mad about him leaving in the dead of night for USC all those years ago–have every right to be bitter and angry. But getting the dragging he is getting nationally only makes LSU fans feel more dug in; they do not mind being considered the villain in the least, and neither does the new coach. Hell, they live for having a chip on their shoulder.

It’s kind of reminiscent of the Steve Spurrier days at Florida, frankly–which should be very scary for everyone else.

I did look at LSU’s schedule for next year, and they have to play Alabama, Auburn, Texas, Texas A&M, and they get to play at Mississippi and Tennessee–Coach Kiffin’s greatest hits. It shows we play at Mississippi again next year, which seems wrong; we played in Oxford this past season so should have to go there two years in a row, but okay. We also play Mississippi State, Arkansas, and Kentucky. It’s going to be weird not playing Florida every year.

I also started gathering all my notes on Chlorine last night, to organize and get started on it (again), which will entail revising the first three chapters all over again. It’s fine; it originally started with the cops coming to his front door, before I switched it over to a studio fixer. I may leave the studio fixer intact, but it will need to be somewhat changed because the plot demands it. I also have my page proofs for Hurricane Season Hustle, another editing job, and I went over the edits for a short story that an anthology is taking, which is very cool.

As for the Pete Hegseth murder/war crimes story, is anyone surprised at the lengths this administration will attempt to distract from the Epstein files? I’m not, and frankly, Hegseth belongs in front of a firing squad.

I’m also having some thoughts about the next Scotty, too, which is kind of fun.

And on that, off to the spice mines with me! Have a lovely day, Constant Reader!

Help Me

Wednesday Pay-the-Bills day, and feel good this morning as I swill my first cup of coffee. I have to run errands again tonight when I get off work; so even if I can’t come straight home, I’ll still get home early enough to hopefully finish Priority Project One tonight and get some good rest. The weekend looms large as it draws ever nearer, and I’m kind of looking forward to getting back to work on writing fiction this weekend. I have another box of books to take to the library sale, and I may even start working on the storage attic. I had a goal this year of cleaning that out completely, and I never even got started on it. But the year isn’t quite over yet, either, is it? There’s still time!

I wasn’t sure how yesterday was going to go when I was writing my post yesterday morning, but Tuesday actually turned out to be not just an okay day, but actually a very good day. I got all my work caught up at the office, and had a pretty good day there (I’m so lucky I enjoy my job!). I wasn’t tired when I left, So I drove uptown and picked up the mail, and worked quite a bit when I got home. I made a lot of progress on Priority Project One, and I should be able to finish that tonight. I even cleaned the house. I know, right? Who am I and WHAT have I done with Gregalicious? I don’t know, to be honest. But last night I felt marvelous, and I really felt great when I went to bed, sleepy, around ten. And I slept well, too, and so this morning I feel a bit groggy but good; nothing my coffee won’t take care of, at any rate.

Christmas is a week from today, too. Yikes! I’m not going to say this year has flown by–January 2024 seems like it happened during the Pleistocene Era–but I kind of feel like I didn’t really accomplish a lot of anything this year other than survival, you know? I don’t think I even completed a short story in 2024. I did start working on another Scotty book, which is something. But it was a fallow year for me, writing and publishing wise, and I need to do something about that in 2025 (if we don’t slide into a dystopian nightmare after January 20). I am pretty much healed from everything physical, and the personal blows of the last few years, well, it’s getting easier to live with those losses. Depression/malaise isn’t a constant anymore; it comes and goes now, and so I don’t think I am completely better yet–I know there are going to still be spells–but conserving my mental and creative energy by not letting either be stolen anymore.

If ABC’s capitulation wasn’t bad enough already, Disney capitulated to tyranny yesterday as well, removing a trans character from a kid’s show, and yeah–I’m done with Disney. Much as I want to see season two of Andor and other Star Wars content, I’ll be looking at dumping Disney and its affiliated brands going into the new year. I finally was able to find the list of all streaming services I was paying for, and found that there were quite a few I was paying for that I never use. I canceled all the extras (to the tune of about eighty dollars per month), so next year I am beginning fresh. The only thing I’m still hanging onto is ESPN, and that’s mostly for LSU sports. Hulu and Disney, on the other hand, can go fuck themselves with a razor-blade studded dildo. I’m really delighted to see how much of the country is going to drain into the sewer over the next four years. I am mostly concerned with mine and Paul’s survival ahead of anything else, quite frankly. I wish I could stockpile my medications before the Affordable Care Act is repealed, and of course the gutting of social security and Medicare will end any hopes I ever might have harbored of ever retiring. Yay!

And on that rather somber note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later–stranger things and all that.

What’s Forever For

It’s cold again this morning in New Orleans, with it around thirty-one this morning as I swill my coffee and shiver a bit here in the workspace. There’s always cold air coming in from somewhere–the windows, the frames, somewhere–so it’s always a bit colder when I’m at my desk than it is elsewhere inside the apartment. I slept really well again last night–still don’t know where the sleeping pill bottle got to, thanks again, Sparky–but I do have a stopgap until I can get that prescription refilled again at the end of the month, and it worked last night. Fingers crossed that it continues to do so until I either find the original bottle or get the refill at the end of the month…

Yesterday was a good day around here. I had my strength PT yesterday morning, which is getting more difficult by the appointment. It really kicked up into gear yesterday, and while I was very happy to make it through the workout without begging for mercy or having to take too many breaks–it was harder than I imagined, but I also refused to get concerned, anxious or worried about the fact I was using only four pound dumbbells for some and a six pounder for others. But the burning of lactic acid in my muscles, while startling at first, eventually reminded me of how good it feels when you do work out, and the rest of my body was screaming to be stretched, exercised and used. I ran a couple of errands afterwards before returning home to my work-at-home chores. I finished watching the first episode of the 1982 BBC Brideshead Revisited, which I’d never seen before and am now watching (and eventually reading the original source material), inspired by Saltburn, and that’s partly so I can write more intelligently about the film, which still haunts me. I cannot remember the last time I was so interested and intrigued by and with a film, which means it’s a good one. It even has me thinking about revisiting The Talented Mr. Ripley, and reading more of the Ripley novels, which I have steadfastly ignored for the most part despite my abiding love for Highsmith’s work (the woman herself not so much…although it is interesting that two of my favorite women authors of all time, Highsmith and du Maurier, were lesbians or had lesbian tendencies).

We also watch Friday Night Heights, as ESPN calls the Friday night SEC gymnastics meets, to see LSU take down Kentucky and become the first team this season to break the overall 198 score mark, which is incredibly impressive. LSU has everything they need to win their first national title this year, but they’re going to have to be mentally tough and keep improving, which they already seem to be doing quite well.

After that, we watched the season finale of Reacher, which was fun if inexplicable; the ability to do all kinds of crazy stunts and so forth thanks to CGI does tend the make things a bit ridiculous as crews are always trying to outdo everything that came before. The helicopter scene was a bit preposterous, but no more preposterous than some of the aerial feats performed in whatever that Tom Holland/Mark Wahlberg treasure hunt movie was last year. (Those scenes always remind me that I wouldn’t survive as I would be so absolutely terrified I would either have a heart attack or a stroke on the spot, if not both simultaneously–you don’t see Scotty ever getting into a plane or a helicopter or anything; the biggest heights thing I ever did with Scotty was in Jackson Square Jazz and there’s been nothing since.)

I also think I am getting to the point where I am going to be ready to really start writing again. There was a lot of inspiration and creative thinking done yesterday while doing some tedious work-at-home chores; which really felt good. I think I may even be able to sit down tomorrow morning after i get up and actually go to town with writing. I am in the process of starting a new Scotty, so the opening is playing in my head; I know the boys will be living in the Garden District while Cooper Construction1 turns the townhouse on Decatur Street into a single family home again with a personal gym on the first floor. I had been thinking it needs to be set in either July or August (Mississippi River Mischief was set in May) and I definitely think it should be Hurricane Party Hustle, the accursed title and story I had to abandon in the wake of Katrina. It’s still a good story, and it could work, even with the difference in time (2005 was a different world than 2019, which is when this will be), then I can do the Mardi Gras book, and then the quarantine book….which will bring Scotty to twelve adventures and then maybe–just maybe–I can think about retiring the character and the series. I am not saying I am going to, but that’s as far out as I have him planned and when I run out of plans is usually when I reevaluate.

I also have some things to do today for the Bold Strokes Book-a-Thon today. At eleven am eastern I am moderating a panel on strong finishes; then I have a young adult panel and a “you’ve written an insane amount of books” panel. That’s probably going to take most of my brain bandwidth today, and when that’s all done I can probably do some chores and maybe do some reading–or watch more Brideshead Revisited.

And on that note, I think I am going to head into the spice mines for the rest of the day. Have a lovely Saturday, stay warm, and who knows? I might be back later.

  1. Yes, this is a shout out to A Streetcar Named Murder, in case you missed it. ↩︎

When I See You Again

It’s a work at home Friday and Paul is getting ready to head out to the airport. Heavy heaving sigh. While alone time is something I can always appreciate, it doesn’t take more than a day or two before I start missing him. But I have a lot to keep me busy, so if I just focus and work my way down the to-do list, I should be able to keep busy enough to not miss him while at the same time getting a lot of things done–always a plus, especially given how behind I am on this book–but a Gregalicious at rest tends to stay at rest, so the big thing for me is going to be staying motivated.

Ugh, I hate when Paul goes away.

I was tired again yesterday when I got off work and came home, so spent some time organizing and doing mindless chores once I got home until Paul got home from work. By the time he’d gotten home I’d already finished the chores and given in to Scooter’s demands for a lap to sleep in, and was watching the latest iteration of ESPN’s show Saturdays Down South, which of course is a history of the Southeastern Conference. This episode was for the decade 2010-2019, and while it naturally focused on the Alabama supremacy, it was fun revisiting some of that football history from that decade: Auburn’s runs in 2010 and 2013 (the “Kick Six” win against Alabama included); the runs for both Mississippi and Mississippi State in 2014 that ended disappointingly but had them both ranked in the Top Three at the same time (until they lost to LSU and Alabama, respectively, on the same day), and of course ending with the incredible LSU season in 2019. Much as I would love to climb on board this year’s LSU hype train, I’m reserving that excitement until a week from tomorrow. Alabama is the stumbling block as it always is (only one national champion since 2006 was able to claim the title without having to beat Alabama–hence The Alabama Supremacy), and even the game being in Tiger Stadium means nothing. LSU has beaten Nick Saban exactly four times (2007, 2010, 2011, 2019) with three of those games being in Tuscaloosa. LSU hasn’t beaten Alabama in Baton Rouge since 2010–twelve years.

So, yes, I am a huge LSU fan but I am also realistic. I’ll be cheering for the Tigers, you bet, and I want them to win…but I am not expecting them to win. I am hoping for it to be a great game.

After Paul got home we caught up on American Horror Story: NYC, which weren’t as interesting to me as the first two episodes. In other words, as we get deeper into the season the plot is beginning to derail a little as so often happened with seasons of the show. However, since the story is set so strongly in the gay community of the early 1980’s, I’ll keep watching. I somehow always manage to keep watching this show (Double Feature we bailed out of during the aliens second feature; we also gave up on Hotel but somehow managed to watch both Roanoke and Apocalypse all the way to the bitter end) despite how far off the rails some of these seasons inevitably wind up going–it’s the completist in me, I think–although I feel pretty confident we’ve also given up on A Friend of the Family as well. (Paul: “This could have been a two-hour movie; it didn’t need to be an ongoing series.”) I am now at a loss for what to watch with Paul gone–I can’t watch anything we’re watching together, or something we’d watch together–but I think I am going to revisit the latest Nancy Drew series; I watched the debut episode and kind of was intrigued by it, but Paul wasn’t interested so never went back to it. I checked yesterday and was stunned to see three seasons have aired, which is cool. I hope The Hardy Boys also gets another season, in all honesty; I enjoyed the show. Having grown up on the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew, I am always interested to see how the characters/stories get adapted for a modern audience (and belonging to several fan groups on social media for the books is equally interesting, particularly in how imprisoning and limiting so many people can make of nostalgia for something from their childhoods), just as I was interested in seeing Riverdale’s approach to the Archie characters.

I wound up going to be relatively early as I started falling asleep in my chair while watching AHS: NYC last night (I will probably have to rewatch the latest one because I kept dozing off; I also rewatched Andor last night for the same reason before Paul got home). I also got a new espresso maker yesterday which I am dying to try out this morning. I also want to finish my reread of The Haunting of Hill House before moving on to something by Paul Tremblay. I didn’t do well with my “October horror reading month”–I didn’t read very much this month at all, which is shameful, especially since I got Wanda Morris’ new book this week as well–can’t wait to dig into that.

Sigh. Am I being overly ambitious with my plans to get things caught up while Paul is out of town? It’s entirely possible, and I could possibly be setting myself up for a terrible disappointment, but there it is.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow.

Galveston

So here we are, on yet another Tuesday morning. Yesterday wasn’t a complete loss for me; I was very tired after going out and getting myself tested in the morning, so I came home and decided to take a “Greg Day”; no emails, no work,  and as little social media as possible. Easier said than done, of course, but you know–that’s how the ball bounces sometimes. I did get further into my reread of Ammie, Come Home (I always forget the damned comma in the title) by Barbara Michaels–one of the best Gothic ghost stories ever published, even if a little dated today–and I read a few chapters of Barbara Tuchman’s A Distant Mirror–the 14th century is my second favorite century, behind the 16th–and when my brain couldn’t focus to read, I watched some videos on Youtube that sent me into yet another wormhole, this one of videos about American Horror Story.

In my defense, it started with a video about Jessica Lange’s roles on the show, which led to Sarah Paulson, and Lily Rabe, and…you get the picture.

And then, of course, ESPN replayed that particular Monday night football game from back in September, 2006. That warm night when the Saints played their first home game since the 2004 season. A year after Katrina, when the roof came off the Superdome and people died and still others were trapped there for days. When the city was almost completely destroyed, its economy gone, her people scattered. Our futures were uncertain that bleak fall of 2005, and even throughout 2006, with our abbreviated Mardi Gras and frustratingly slow, it seemed, recovery. We’d almost lost the Saints to San Antonio when the city drowned, but they’d stayed–and the true hero of that was Tagliabue at the NFL, not Tom Benson–and now the Superdome, long a symbol of the city and now a monument to its worst moments, was ready to reopen and create a new identity for itself, just as the city was seeking to be reborn, just as those who lived here were waiting for hope. I remember that day in the city–I knew the Saints were winning but I was busy; the Lost Apartment was still lost and still wouldn’t be finished for another two months. All we had was a tiny old black and white portable television in the carriage house, whose carpet had been ripped up to be replaced but hadn’t yet so there were carpet tacks sticking up out of the bare, scarred exposed wood. We were sleeping on a mattress on top of a box spring on the floor. Paul’s desk and computer were set up in one corner of the room, the staircase and railing took up another side and the little television, which was rarely watched, sat on top of a dresser. I ran errands that day and sensed something in the air–I knew the Saints were winning games but wasn’t paying attention because I was busy trying to make a living and keep myself to the very strict schedule I had to follow in order to have the slightest chance of getting anything done. But i could feel it when I went out to the car, in the air. People were wearing Saints jerseys, or at least black and gold, everywhere I looked. Saints flags were flying on the front of houses (we take flags seriously in New Orleans). Everyone was in Saints gear–the post office, the grocery store, Walgreens, everywhere–and when I got home I looked it up on-line: yup, the Superdome was reopening for Monday Night Football, and we were playing the hated Falcons. Paul and I watched on that little black and white television, screaming and cheering and getting a little teary eyed.  It gave us something we hadn’t had in a long time–hope. They called the game both “ReBirth” and “Domecoming”; both fit.

And while the Saints had always been our team before, that night they became OUR TEAM. Even New Orleanians who weren’t football fans became Saints fans that night. And the sheer joy with which the team played that night was so apparent, and so obvious, and they made it so clear they were doing it for the city…I’ve rarely felt so connected with a football team the way I did with that 2006 Saints team.

As glorious as winning the Super Bowl was, I have to say I think the Domecoming game was probably the greatest moment in Saints history.

Watching the game last night during another social and societal upheaval–one that is affecting the entire world and not just us this time–reminded me of that feeling. Tears spilled out of my eyes once again as Steve Gleason blocked that punt and the Dome erupted; listening to that crowd, seeing their faces and the tears of joy on their faces…having something like the Saints to cheer for, to help us through the hard times, and to give us hope again for the first time since Katrina crossed southern Florida…it’s hard to explain that, I guess.

Try to imagine what it’s going to be like when we have sports again–or the first time you can go out to a restaurant again, or what it’s like to be free of this worry and burden and fear…heady stuff, frankly.

And now…now I am feeling tired again, so I am going to go lie down for a bit. Stay safe, everyone.

Evans1