Tag: travel

Avalon

Many years ago, Anya Seton published a terrific historical novel set in pre-1066 England and titled Avalon. The title was a throwback to the female lead character’s bloodline; she was descended from King Arthur and thus part of the English royal family. I loved Anya Seton (Green Darkness remains one of my favorite books to this day)–it’s been a while since I’ve revisited her work, but maybe I should…her books are soooo long, though! Anyway, Avalon is an island from the Arthur mythology…I suppose this is where I admit I’ve never read anything about King Arthur other than the Mary Stewart novels, but I enjoyed those so much I never really felt much of a need to read anything else Arthurian1. For those of you who missed the 1980s, Roxy Music recorded an album titled Avalon, and the title song was gorgeous…as is the entire album, which I’ve been listening to lately. It still, for the record, holds up.

The tropical system turned out to be not much of anything here in New Orleans, but it was rough where it did rain and flood. Yesterday–which was supposed to be the worst of it–was gorgeous for most of the day. After work, we did go to Costco and then I had dinner with a good friend at Saba, which was lovely. My Lyft drivers in both directions were pretty great, too–which was very lovely. The meal was terrific, and I allowed myself a single cocktail–A Dionysus Revival, which was an interesting mix of tequila, cucumber, and mild ancho chili; it was delicious. I also did chores yesterday around working, and the kitchen–which still needs some work–looks so much better this morning than it did yesterday morning, and that makes me very happy this morning. NO DISHES!

I hope to have a good day today, I have some errands to run around noon (mail, make a little groceries), but other than that I am home for the day. We’ll probably watch some more of America’s Sweethearts later, too. I’m not entirely sure why this show fascinates us both so much–there’s definitely a camp quality to it–but it just sucks us in every time we start watching. We, of course, are old school–we used to watch this on TNN when it was called Making the Team, and you can tell Netflix spends more money on the show than TNN ever did. My coffee is tasting marvelous this morning, Sparky let me sleep a little later than usual, and I feel very good this morning. My sinuses are behaving and I don’t have the headache that’s plagued me for the last couple of weeks. I’m also going to spend some time with the new Megan Abbott and my other current reads. Tomorrow we are going to go see Superman, which I am absolutely looking forward to seeing. Reader, there will be a newsletter about my almost life-long love of the character.

I am also hoping to get some writing done today as well. It’s about time for me to get back in the saddle again–and every day that passes when I don’t climb up on that horse again is time slipping through my fingers. It’s creeping up on football season, too–which is going to make it harder to be productive on the weekends, like it always does. I need to clean off my desk and do the floors here in the kitchen, which will be my housework for the day; and I’ll pick up in the living room later on.

Such an exciting life I lead, right?

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

  1. I did watch Camelot–we saw it in the theater when I was really young. I tried rewatching it during the pandemic, but couldn’t get through it. I’ll never understand why they didn’t cast Julie Andrews as Guinevere, since she’d played it on stage. ↩︎

Bad Streets

New Orleans is filled with bad streets–potholes and cracks and floods, oh my! I wrote about the pothole situation in A Streetcar Named Murder, which was a lot of fun to write. Helpful hint to people Not From Here but writing about New Orleans: if you want to sound authentic, mention the potholes. Every local and native reading it will nod appreciatively while smiling ruefully.

We very much bond complaining about potholes, and everyone in New Orleans has at least one pothole story–at least one. There’s The Pothole That Won’t Die on my street, for example, and of course, we can’t forget the time a pothole ate one of my tires. And actually, it was very strange that I never wrote about potholes before, in all of my books about New Orleans. But…I’ve also never written about New Orleans food and music, either.

I woke up this morning with my sinuses acting up and a headache, too–the same one I had all day yesterday. I really dislike this. I took a Claritin this morning and my nose is still running, which is annoying. I love the rain and thunder, but I hate what it does to my sinuses. I managed to sleep well, in spite of this condition, but it’s always miserable when I wake up and they (sinuses) are out of control like they were this morning. But…it’s been a hot minute since they’ve acted up the way they have been these past few weeks, so I am going to grit my teeth and get through this madness.

Last night I made groceries on my way home from the office, and worked once I got home. Alas, the sink is still full of dishes, but I was very pleased with the progress I made on my work last night. I edited and revised; am looking forward to another day of edits and revisions today as well. I am finally getting the voice right–although I think more edits and revisions are necessary as I shake out the plot–which feels very good; I am hopeful to get this entire thing ready to go by the weekend. We’ll be going to Costco and seeing Superman1 this weekend, too, so I’ll probably be very tired by the time Monday rolls around, which is when I get the next infusion.

Hopefully, that won’t make me tired all week. As always, I have too much to do for me to spend the week recovering from fatigue induced by the infusion.

We also watched some more of We Were Liars, and really, the majority of characters on the show, particularly the adults, are terrible people, but it’s getting more and more interesting the deeper we get into the story. There are only two more episodes left, and we’ll probably finish it off tonight. I am coming straight home from the office tonight, so there’s no excuse for me not to do the dishes tonight. I did manage to empty the dishwasher at one point–while I was making my Gregalicious grilled cheese sandwich for dinner–and the refrigerator is organized, but there’s already other mess in the kitchen (didn’t take long, did it?). So tonight I have to do some laundry and at least clean out the kitchen sink; I don’t think there are enough dishes to warrant running the dishwasher quite yet.

Sigh.

And on that depressing note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I will most likely be back tomorrow morning.

Screenshot
  1. And no, we still haven’t seen the new Jurassic movie. But Superman is my priority. ↩︎

Fall

Sunday of the holiday weekend and I finally feel rested. Yesterday was another sinus day, but I did get some things done. I did some clean-up around the apartment, finished reading Summerhouse (which I really enjoyed) as well as some more of my other two current reads; I’d forgotten how chilling The Crying Child was. We also started watching a show with Jensen Ackles called Countdown. It’s mildly entertaining, and might get better, but the only reason we started and continued was Jensen Ackles. We’re both fans, what can I say? We’re still planning on seeing Jurassic World Rebirth this afternoon, so there are things I need to do before we leave for that today (Paul did have his trainer yesterday). I want to get started on Megan Abbott’s El Dorado Drive, I want to get my next newsletter finished and sent, and I want to do some writing today. I haven’t consulted my to-do list all weekend, which was a strategic error, I believe–but the apartment looks a lot better this morning than it did yesterday morning when I got up, so I will take that as a win.

I was horrified to see the scope of the flash flooding and loss of life in Texas, and no, I don’t care that Texas is a red state (Louisiana is as well, remember?). Are some right-wingers callous and hateful and disgusting when a natural disaster strikes a blue state? Absolutely; I’m old enough to remember “christians” blaming Hurricane Katrina on the gay community, and also some Republican elected officials basically saying fuck New Orleans, it’ll just happen again. Does that mean I will point and laugh and enjoy suffering somewhere else? Of course not. You cannot call out the right for their cruelty when disaster strikes a blue state when you return the cruelty when one hits a red state, period. I get the impulse, of course; but this is one instance where my empathy outweighs my anger and desire for revenge on all MAGA. The loss of children especially–I don’t celebrate mass shootings in red states, either. It really is a matter of humanity. No parent should lose their child this way (anti-vaxxer parents, on the other hand,,,), and really, no parent should outlive their child. Those people who lost everything in the flooding are going to be suffering enough as is with the cuts to FEMA–North Carolina victims of Helene last year are still suffering, and their requests for government assistance were all rejected-and let’s face it, a fully funded FEMA was hard enough to deal with, let alone what an underfunded FEMA will be like.

And yes, I am well aware that if and when another disaster strikes a blue state, MAGA will be cheering for the disaster. But that’s on them. I certainly don’t expect awful people to change, or suddenly discover they are capable of empathy after all. That ship has sailed, alas.

Of course, Wimbledon is also going on, so we may not be going to the movie after all–but we are definitely watching Superman next weekend.

Heavy heaving sigh.

And of course, there’s no telling what Chantal is doing to South Carolina as I type this.

And it’s only July–who knows what this hurricane season is going to bring with it? I’m confident Louisiana’s two MAGA senators will fight for us if the state gets hit this year…yeah, right. I doubt either would be able to stop licking boots long enough to do anything for Louisiana; they certainly haven’t done a fucking thing since their first day in the Senate.

It’s depressing to think about it, isn’t it? Ah, well.

It is what it is.

Well, I probably should finish this and get back to work around here. I’d like to get some writing done this morning before moving to my chair to read. There’s so much to work on, so much cleaning and chores to do, more coffee to drink, more breakfast to eat (I’m starving this morning for some reason), and always, always–there’s always something else to do, isn’t there? I need to empty the dishwasher, wipe down the kitchen counters and do some more filing and organizing…so I should head into the spice mines and get to work. So, have a lovely Sunday, and I’ll be back in the morning, most likely.

I’ll Take You There

I know a place, ain’t nobody crying…

I love the Staple Singers. I think the fact I was always drawn to great female singers when I was growing up was one of the first clues what my sexuality was going to be. Why precisely was I drawn to the women singers? I can’t answer that any more than I can answer why I was such a fan of the great women stars, like Crawford and Davis and Stanwyck and Hepburn. I definitely wanted to be one of the Pips singing and dancing behind Gladys Knight.

But I am one of the few, if not the only, gay men who doesn’t like The Wizard of Oz.1

I wrote 1300 words on a short story yesterday, but kind of got stuck. I know how I want to end this story, but I am a little stuck on the middle of it–where I always get stuck. So, I am going to stick a pin in it and work on revising something else; I usually solve problems in one work when I’m working on another, odd as that may seem (and last night, as we finished off The Survivors, I figured out the next part of the story; see how that works sometimes?). I was tired yesterday, too. Not sure why that was, but I did go by the mail on the way home (where my copies of Lori Roy’s The Final Episode and S. A. Cosby’s King of Ashes were waiting for me; huzzah!) and after we finished The Survivors, I did chores and got some things organized and ready for tomorrow. It was super nice coming downstairs to a clean kitchen this morning. My coffee is pretty tasty, too.

We had a marvelous downpour last night, along with some truly lovely thunder and lightning. I love rain, I really do, and as I sat in my chair watching the end of the show last night, I couldn’t help but feel so snug and comfortable and warm. There’s just something about rain that makes me relax and feel so content; years ago I used to listen to that “forest rain” CD to fall asleep, and I always fell into a deep one. I also realized that I write about the rain a lot. I love writing about rain; the short story I am working on is at about two thousand words now, and it’s raining in the story. It rains throughout the entire Scotty book that I also need to get back to writing once my creative muscles have regained their fitness and are strong again.

I also am feeling better. I am a little tired this morning, and yesterday I did hit a wall at work yesterday afternoon (but I also got all of my work done and so am on top of everything again, huzzah), and I did sleep well last night (thanks, thunderstorm!), but this morning feels like a Wednesday morning; I’m awake and alive but a little bit tired. But I just need to get through today and tomorrow before getting to sleep late (of my alarm kitty will allow it) on Remote Friday. I am not actually wishing my life away, the way I usually do; that’s another thing that has changed for me mentally since the height of the illness. I still haven’t made a to-do list for this week–so I need to do that today. I also need to make some calls about my treatment plan for this colitis; I spoke to my GI specialist’s office yesterday and he’s fighting with my insurance to get the infusions covered (because they of course declined to cover that, but the shots for the rest of my life they are fine with). Sigh. I knew it was too good to be true. Louisiana Blue (aka Blue Cross/Blue Shield) isn’t really much better than United Healthcare; deny defend depose. I am sure my specialist will win this fight, it’s just insane that an insurer can decide arbitrarily, without examining me or my chart, what treatment options are best for me over the recommendations of the person who correctly diagnosed me and put me on the road to recovery.

This country is so seriously fucked, and broken, because that’s the end result of capitalism. For-profit models do not improve service or keep costs down, the way the Right keeps insisting that the “market place” works and is therefore the best possible option because otherwise SOCIALISM! Yeah, well, you know what doesn’t happen in socialist countries? People don’t die from not having access to health care.

Are we great again yet? Asking for a friend.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you here again on the morrow.

  1. Thinking about it now, I only watched it one time when I was a kid and maybe the flying monkeys scared me? Plus our television was black and white, so there was no difference between Oz and Kansas. I also only watched that one time and never again. ↩︎

Look What You Made Me Do

And we made it to Thursday, our last day in the office for the week and we survived! Huzzah!

We had a marvelous rain last night, a steady downpour that no doubt flooded neighborhoods and streets and ruined any number of cars. There was thunder, too, and it made an already tired Gregalicious even sleepier, so much so that rather than doing chores before bed, I just went to bed and slept. I slept great as long as the storm lasted, but once it was over I was restless and tossing and turning. Sigh. We’re also busy in clinic today, so I sense another evening of exhaustion. I made groceries on the way home yesterday, and was thus very tired when I got home. I made a pizza for dinner, and then Paul and I watched Sirens (didn’t care for it so stopped watching) and then moved on to the final season of Big Mouth, which is so wrong but so damned fucking funny; it’s about kids going through puberty and is hilarious. It’s animated, so that removes the ick factor it would have if it were live action. I also didn’t do chores last night, so tonight I’ll have to push through the exhaustion and get the kitchen under control for Remote Friday. Yippee!

Ooh, just heard thunder and it’s overcast outside–that should help me stay awake all day, right? But I am going to enjoy the rain as long as I can, since next week the Saharan dust will be here drying everything out. And it’s pouring out there now–I’m going to actually have to take an umbrella with me to the car. YIKES–and trying to keep my feet dry will be a challenge.

My mind is still not capable of producing fiction when it’s tired, alas; I tried to work on the prologue for the new Scotty book (and am finding my cards for the tarot reading each chapter serves as) but it was painful and didn’t get anywhere. Oddly enough, my mind can focus on writing non-fiction (hence the flurry of newsletters over the holiday weekend) and reading it, too. I hope to finish Laura Lippman’s new book this weekend as well as Moonraker, which also means writing about them for the newsletter as well. I also have some other things I need to get done this weekend. I have some errands to run tomorrow after work (including, sigh, more bloodwork) and preparing a pitch for Chlorine. Wish me luck!

I also met with my case manager/nurse from the drug company that produces the medication I’ll be dealing with for the rest of my life. I am actually really impressed by this service (I also have one for the infusion center, one from the specialist, and one from the hospital, which is a lot to keep track of; I’m also going to have to take some time to figure this all out and know what’s going on and where I am going), but it’s also making me realize just how serious this condition actually is, which is kind of scary in some ways, but…what can you do? Buckle down, accept it, and go forward. I am getting stronger every day; I can climb the steps without stopping or needing to balance with the railing, which is a good thing. The grocery store is no longer exhausting, simply tiring, which I can also live with happily, and while my skin is still ashy, the moisturizing does help but I am still, I guess, a little on the dehydrated side.

And on that note, I am off to the spice mines and to make a to-do list for the weekend. Have a lovely Thursday, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

Jedi Master Gregalicious

The Tracks of My Tears

Well, we made it to Thursday, didn’t we? Yesterday was a good day. I slept really well the night before, didn’t have to get up early (and Sparky let me sleep an extra hour; he’s started getting into bed and cuddling up to me every morning around four which is nice), and had a nice doctor visit. I lost more weight–honestly!–and am now under 180, which has been since at least the late nineties that I weighed so little. I did stop at Raising Cane’s to get lunch on my way into the office, and it was very good and very filling. It was a slow day at the office, too, so I was able to get a lot of my Admin work caught up as well. I didn’t feel exhausted, either, which was super nice…and of course I work from home tomorrow and Monday is a holiday, so huzzah! I do want to slowly and carefully work on the house some more over the weekend, and keep building up my own strength.

I really hate being feeble, but my body has been through a major trauma and I’m older, so I need to get over my impatience and take it easy–which is hard for me, because I always see it as being lazy (thanks Mom and Dad!) rather than being something necessary. Maybe if I can get on a roll with my reading and start doing some more writing.

I started writing my essay about Gone with the Wind and how it basically is the Bible of Lost Cause Mythology, which also reminded me of an earlier, equally foul (if not more so) book that was also made into a successful film: Thomas Dixon’s The Clansman, which was filmed as Birth of a Nation and preceded Gone with the Wind by a few decades, priming the pump, as it were. (I downloaded those books from Project Gutenberg, but can’t bring myself to read them.) I’ve really come to hate the Lost Cause myth over the years, but have to admit it’s not surprising that it was allowed to develop and become a horrible part of our history (and present) because stubborn Southerners refused to believe they were, or ever could have possibly been, wrong about anythin1g. (Yet they call themselves “the real Americans” now.)2

I slept well again last night, which is great; maybe uninterrupted sleep is going to be a thing for me again and praise Jesus and pass the ammunition, you know? Yesterday was actually a pretty good day, overall. I got a lot of work done at the office, always a plus to be ahead on my work, and we watched two more episodes of The Last of Us after I made dinner. I fell asleep in my chair instead of cleaning the kitchen the way I’d intended to, but I can do that when I get home tonight. Tomorrow is a work-at-home day for me, and of course that glorious three day weekend of rest, relaxation, and reading right behind it. Huzzah! I feel like I’m getting some of my strength back–a little, not a lot–and the process is going to be slow (I need to be more patient) and steady and hopefully by the end of the summer I’ll be back to some semblance of normality and weight.

And on that brief note, I will bring this to a close and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thor’s Day, Constant Reader, and I will be back at some point soon.

  1. William Bradford Huie–a problematic journalist who committed some serious crimes by “protecting sources” in the Emmett Till case–wrote a book about the civil rights movement in north Alabama in the late 1960s called The Klansman, which showed three different perspectives–and the one from the bigoted police chief who does not believe he is a bigot is probably the best depiction of the Southern bigot mentality I’ve ever read; but the book is horrifically brutal and difficult to read. ↩︎
  2. There are some excellent novels that show the horrors of what the Jim Crow South was like: The Reformatory by Tananarive Due; Time’s Undoing by Cheryl Head, and anything by Wanda M. Morris–all writers you should be reading. And yes, they’re fiction, but so is the Lost Cause myth. ↩︎

You Can’t Change That

Here we are on a Thursday morning. Everyone is arriving in Denver for Left Coast Crime, but I don’t have any FOMO. Sure, there are people I would love to see and spend time with, and I always have fun at conferences, but…there are also other people there. I thought I would really miss not going to Bouchercon in Nashville last year, but…I didn’t. I’ve always been a FOMO person, scared that I was missing out on a good time, but I didn’t the entire time it was going on, or even after. And the local ones are next weekend, anyway.

I just saw that we are in the path of some massive storm system this weekend that’s going to throw up potential tornadoes in New Orleans, which means we may lose power, which will be incredibly annoying if it happens, but also means I can just light some candles and read in my easy chair. I do want to make some more reading progress this weekend in addition to everything else on the to-do list. We just can’t seem to catch a break down here this year, can we? Terrorism, blizzards, high winds, the Super Bowl, Carnival…sheesh. It’s like we can’t ever just breathe…and we are heading into stinging caterpillar season, with swarming termites not far behind.

We were busy at work yesterday again, with the end result that I was, as I suspected, exhausted when I got home from my post-work errands last night. I collapsed into my easy chair with a purring kitty and was down for the rest of the night. I caught up on my reality show, caught up on the latest news of the great American collapse (or whatever future historians will call the end of the Great American Experiment in Self-Rule), and then went to bed at a fairly early hour. I did run the dishwasher, as planned, but not the washing machine as planned. I am a bit fatigued today–synapses aren’t quite firing the way they should be–so I may not be able to write or read when I get home tonight. I guess we shall see. We’re also busy today, too. Sigh. It’s been a week at the office, has it not? But at least I only need to log four hours of remote work and then the day is mine.

Woo-hoo!

I was, naturally, saddened by the loss of a long-time friend this week, Felice Picano. It’s very strange to think I won’t ever see him again, or get that mischievous kid look on his face when he was about to say something absolutely terrible about someone to me. Felice was the first published writer I ever met. I went to a signing he did for the paperback release of Like People in History at the Borders in Minneapolis that used to be on the corner of Lake and Hennepin. Paul had bought me a hardcover copy as a gift the year before, and I’d loved the book. I was too shy and awestruck to do anything but put my book down for a signature…but when Paul went to work for the Tennessee Williams Literary Festival, they wanted to put together a queer panel and I suggested Felice for it, and I got to pick him up at the airport. That ride in from the airport was my first actual conversation with him, and the start of a friendship that lasted almost thirty years. We always tried to have coffee or lunch or something when he was in town for Saints & Sinners after that, I stayed in his house in the Hollywood Hills several times, and there was one amazing weekend when he gave me a lift to Palm Springs from LA, and oh, how hard we laughed in the car on the way there. I didn’t see or interact with him as much as I used to, but every time I saw him, it was like we’d just seen each other the day before. He meant a lot to me, and the fact that he always treated me as a peer from that first meeting at the airport on meant the world to me.

I just can’t believe I’ll never see him again. The worst thing about getting older is losing people.

And on that somber note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday Eve, everyone, and I’ll be back eventually.

Ballerinos have the most amazing bodies–and even more amazing is what they can DO with those bodies.

I Love the Nightlife

I also love to boogie–especially in the disco round, oh yeah, baby.

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment after kind of a nice, slow and easy day around here. Paul stayed up late working so pretty much slept the entire day away again, and I myself got up late yesterday, too. I didn’t mind, even though I was a little perturbed that I got up so late. But I had a nice morning. I did some things I needed to do and cleaned and organized some more, and I got up pretty early this morning, too. I don’t know how motivated I feel today, but I am hopefully going to get some good writing work done this morning so I can spend the afternoon reading. Sounds like a winner to me. We did finish catching up with Reacher, Abbott Elementary, and Prime Target last night, too. Tomorrow I get to report to Criminal Court for jury duty in Mid-city, so I will be finding out what’s going on with that. I’m hoping to be dismissed before parade days start; I’d rather go to the office and leave early than try to get home at five from Criminal Court in Midcity, which would probably require taking I-10/90, getting off at Tchoupitoulas, and doubling back from there with no place to park. Ah, well, this too shall pass, and as a crime writer, it’s always interesting to see how criminal court–or courts in general–operate up close and personal.

It’s gray outside, and rain is expected, which should put a damper on any and all parades today. There are no night parades, so technically I could make a grocery run after King Arthur ends, but I doubt I’ll want to be out and about at that time anyway. I do have all kinds of things to do today–I want to spend the morning writing and the afternoon reading, if at all possible. It’s always so nice to curl up in my chair with a blanket and read while it’s raining, you know? I like feeling snug and cozy; which is why I am so particular about sleep arrangements. Want to know something weird about me? I sleep with four blankets, because that’s enough weight to make me feel snug and comfortable. I have a soft wool one on the bottom and one really velvety soft one on the top. I need two pillows, always, and also need the ceiling fan on and a little personal fan on my nightstand going. Weird? Just a little bit. But I think we all have things that we do, little rituals, that bring us comfort and joy. Just me? Probably. I always default to me not being normal, I suppose; the product of my youth. Thanks, bully trash!

I did work on an essay yesterday a bit, one called “Try That in a Small Town.” I started writing it when the Jason Aldean nonsense happened last summer, because that “real America” bullshit has always, always pissed me off; and essentially has always been used to demonize cities–you know, the economic engines that fucking drive the country–and reassure provincial types who stay in rural areas that they are more important than the city dwellers. This of course goes back to the lies that were always told to encourage immigration when white people felt the need to “fill the continent” with white people while exterminating the natives. You can be free, you can own land and property, you can prosper because the government will leave you alone to do as you please and not restrict your freedoms. No, the rich people needed more consumers, and they also needed population in the “empty” territories to produce and buy. The United States has always been expansionist; even the Founding Fathers assumed more states would be formed out of native land, after they were pushed out. Anyway, I actually lived in a very small town in a very rural county in an underpopulated state for five horrible years–and I will dispute to my dying breath this notion that small towns are the “real America” (fuck you again and again with razor wire, Sarah Palin)…because everyone acts like they’re like Mayberry when they are really Peyton Place–horribly judgmental with lots of cruel gossip and backstabbing, and the sexual perversions of these “good meat-and-potatoes Americans” not even Grace Metalious could have dreamed up–and Peyton Place was nothing more than a novelization of things she witnessed and experienced in a small town. It always infuriates me, you know, to hear this “real America” shit. Try to make it without Chicago, New York, LA, Boston, and San Francisco. The fucking economy would crater in about two seconds. But…cities are usually Democratic strongholds, so they must be demonized, always.

And there’s the rain! I knew it was coming. It’s just a drizzle but it’s enough for the gutter to drip water on the cat enclosure just outside my laundry room–and it’s only raining on that side of the house. This happens here a lot–it can be raining on one block but not the next; one part of the city can be getting a flooding rain while it’s sunny and bright in another–but I don’t remember the last time it only rained on the other side of the house. New Orleans, always so bizarre.

It also seems that the American people are getting fed up with what’s going on in Washington, and they are starting to push back. I’ve progressed beyond FAFO, to be honest1; the danger to the country’s future is that strong that the mocking and pointing fingers and laughing and atonement can come after the threat has been overcome. I think this is the kind of lesson we needed to learn; we’ve always taken our system for granted and always assumed the government was stable and would hold–forever smug about governments toppling and falling in other countries while we remained stable. The problem is that stability was only achieved through horrific compromises…and human rights should never, ever, under any circumstance, be left to public or government whim. The seeds of self-destruction were planted in the Constitution with the compromise on enslavement. Senators used to be appointed by state legislatures, not the people. BUT it was also designed to be a living document, changed and amended over time to clear up inconsistencies and always, always, intended to protect the people from government overreach. I also agree with something I saw on social media yesterday–every elected official should be required to have regular town halls to meet with their constituents, and they also need to remember they were voted in to work for their district, not the president. Separate but equal branches of government means nothing when elected officials in Congress abdicate their roles for whatever reason.

And really, what is MAGA but the modern Confederacy? Yes, they are also Nazis…but remember–the Germans learned about how to deal with undesirable sub-populations by studying enslavement and Jim Crow. There’s your heritage, rednecks. You were Hitler’s blueprint. And weren’t plantations simply concentration/work camps with a nicer name?

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

  1. I’ve not, and never will, forgive MAGA voters, to be sure–just like I’ll never stop mentally dancing and pissing on Ronald and Nancy Reagan’s graves. But I can put that aside for now to overcome this threat. But there needs to be a reckoning–unlike after the Civil War and 1/6/20. ↩︎

Boogie Wonderland

Friday morning and I have the day off! I have some doctor’s appointments and an errand to run on top of that–it’s parade season and I won’t be able to leave the neighborhood from tonight around five till Sunday around six–and we are going to Costco today, too. There’s another errand, too, and I am not certain how much parade participation there will be. It’s supposed to be cold and a bit rainy all weekend, and beads hurt when it’s cold. I can do cold, I can do rain, but both together? That makes standing on the corner getting pelted with flying objects not a lot of fun. (One of my favorite parade experiences was one warm night when it was sprinkling as we went out to greet Orpheus. The crowds always start departing about halfway through Orpheus so they can get up early for Fat Tuesday, but even more than usual left that night because it started raining harder with the parade not even half over yet. Shortly, Paul and I were the only ones out there, getting drenched and getting buried with beads from the drunk riders trying to get rid of everything they could to the few of us who remained to see them pass. Staying to the end of Orpheus was why our Fat Tuesday started so much later than everyone else’s.) It’s very sunny and the sun is quite bright out there this morning, despite how cold it is. (I’m not going to bother to check–it can wait till later.) There are two parades tonight–Alla and Cleopatra.

I felt really good yesterday and rested and managed to get some things done. I did the dishes when I got home, worked on the laundry for a bit, and wrote a little bit, too. I stayed up later than usual–Paul got home late and we chatted for a while before I went to bed. Sparky tried getting me up at the usual time, but was very sweet and patient and let me sleep for a while longer before he got too hungry and insistent it was time for breakfast. I also had my first piece of cream cheese-filled king cake this morning (I bought one the other night on the way home from work, but hadn’t had any. You can imagine my shock to open the box this morning to find that there was no knife in the box (cardinal sin) but there was only about a quarter of it left. (Paul does love him some cream-cheese king cake.) I have to start getting ready to go to my doctor’s appointment, too. I made my Costco shopping list (seriously, newcomers to Costco–lists are crucial when going to Costco. I also advise going to their website before you go into you local store for the first time; the website can be set to your local store and so you can look up things to see if they’re in stock), and we’ll be heading there after I get back from the appointment. Parades also start tonight and this weekend, so once we get back…we’re pretty much trapped in the neighborhood until after King Arthur passes.

And next week I get to navigate jury duty during parades. Can’t fucking wait.

I was also a bit satisfied to see that Canada beat our national hockey team last night. I certainly never thought I’d see the day when I’d feel that way about a US national team loss, but here we are. I am ashamed and embarrassed by all these MAGA assholes talking about annexing Canada–which would wind up worse than our experiences in Iraq and Afghanistan, since it would mean that their Resistance would be majority white, so our systemic racism wouldn’t know what to do, which means atrocities on the level of Abu Gharib, if not worse.

And if you think Guantanamo Bay hasn’t had a concentration camp there for decades, you’re an even bigger fool than I thought. You can never go wrong assuming the worst about our government... and you’ll still be shocked and appalled by how awful our leadership has always been. The variances in foreign policy generally aren’t great between presidents. Obama campaigned against the forever wars when he ran in 2008, but once he was in office he didn’t really end those wars, did he? The only significant changes in our foreign policy during my lifetime came during Jimmy Carter’s presidency (governing as a Christian, he couldn’t continue supporting the regime of the Shah of Iran, which was horrifically oppressive…) or Trump. The difference is our allies supported Carter. The rest of the world is realigning to escape alliances with the United States because we are now a rogue nation. A fucking rogue, outlaw nation, led by conmen and grifters where everything is up to be looted by the billionaire class and everything else sold off for spare parts.

Now they are talking about “checking” the gold in Fort Knox. Brace yourself for a torrent of lies. Not even Goldfinger got away with going after the gold in Fort Knox, and both the book and movie picked Fort Knox because it was so impregnable. No one ever talks about the gold in Fort Knox anymore; when I was a kid everyone did. I mentioned Fort Knox the other day at work and many of my younger co-workers didn’t even know what Fort Knox was…it’s not part of the national conversation anymore, the way it was when I was a kid. “Safe as the gold in Fort Knox” used to be a saying back then. Maybe it was the influence of Goldfinger on the zeitgeist, but it was definitely there.

It’s a mad, mad, mad, mad, mad world.

And on that note, tis off to the mines of spice with me. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader

Shake It

Wednesday Pay-the-Bills morning, and hopefully I won’t be as tired today as I was yesterday. I feel like I slept really well last night, and I don’t feel either tired or foggy-brained this morning. Since I’m driving tomorrow to Alabama after work, I am very relieved to have slept well. There really is nothing like a good night’s sleep, is there? I made it home from work in one piece, worked on some chores for a while, and then collapsed into my easy chair to watch more episodes of Arrested Development (we were only going to watch one, and turned it off after three). It feels good to laugh, you know? I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a good belly laugh, you know? But my word, I was tired when my raggedy ass dragged itself into the Lost Apartment. It’s been a hot minute since I was that tired.

I was tired all day yesterday after the shock of waking up to no power1 and no coffee and thus no usual morning routine before work. I don’t usually drink the coffee at work (I have some at home, and then bring another cup with me to work that I drink the rest of the morning), but did yesterday and yes, it was just as bad as I anticipated it would be, and only could choke down two cups of it. The end result was under-caffeination, plus I couldn’t really fall back asleep after waking at four thirty, knowing I might sleep through since my alarm wasn’t going to go off. AUGH. But I persevered and persisted, and managed to make it home in one piece. I did start the laundry, and tonight I’ll have to pack since I am leaving work early to head north on 59. I’m looking forward to seeing Dad again, and it’s always a bit weird (and inspiring) to spend time up there where we’re from. I don’t think I’m going to write another Alabama book for a while–I have several others in queue waiting to be written–but there are short stories and other things that can be written until I’m ready for the next Alabama book. Even the short story I am working on is an Alabama story. I have to run errands on the way home tonight, do some chores when I do get home, and I also have to pack.

They caught Scrim!

For those of you who don’t know Scrim, he’s a rescue dog that caught everyone in New Orleans’ fancy when he escaped the first time, going on the run for months. There was even a Facebook group for updates and sightings; it was the kind of fun thing that will capture everyone’s attention. Everyone was delighted when the adorable little scamp was caught that first time–but he escaped again less than a week later, only to finally be caught again yesterday morning. You can read more about him here. I definitely have to write Scrim into a Scotty book–and if not Scrim, a similar, but fictional, escape artist puppy. There’s literally so much material here; I don’t know how anyone writing about New Orleans could ever run out of things to say about this marvelous magical city. I do think New Orleans won the Super Bowl; everyone seemed to have a great time, and I actually really appreciated the focus on New Orleans artists. The pregame and halftime shows, which I’ve now viewed on Youtube, definitely made a statement–but I fear that should another hurricane disaster occur here while it is still president he won’t authorize aid or help for us because New Orleans represents everything he hates: majority Black, majority vote for Democrats in ever election (and it’s not even remotely close), and now we put on a show for him that he didn’t like? Yeah, he hates our city now, guaranteed. Hopefully it means he’ll never come back here, praise Jesus, but it doesn’t bode well for disaster relief in the future…but I am glad we didn’t buckle under and obey in advance like so many quislings are doing.

I also have to pick a book to listen to in the car. Maybe the latest Carol Goodman? The Lev Rosen I started reading? I guess I could check what I have on audio and haven’t listened to yet–turns out there’s a lot there, including some short ones. If I don’t finish the second one I listen to (if I go with two shorter ones) I can finish while cleaning or something. I don’t know, but I will figure it out. Decisions, decisions. I am also hoping to stop at Whataburger in Tuscaloosa on the way, too. Ah, I am so easy to please, aren’t I?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Wednesday and I will check in with you again later.

  1. Yes, a minor inconvenience that I treat like a war crime; well aware. ↩︎