Tag: Trey Reed

Actually Romantic

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment, and its rainy and gloomy. It started raining yesterday afternoon, and all through the night, which helped me sleep really well, even if my hips are a bit achy this morning I feel pretty good, which is a good thing as I have more work to do on the book today. Obviously, I would rather get my blanket, and curl up in my easy chair with a book and my coffee and be blissfully happy, but there’s work to be done and I must make some serious progress so there’s not as much stress on me tomorrow. I also need to pay some bills this morning, and am actually feeling kind of good. Probably because of the rain. I do love rain.

I spent most of yesterday writing or reading or editing until I was bleary-eyed and needed to quit for the day, which was pleasant. Last night we started watching Monster: The Ed Gein Story, which was incredibly disturbing to watch; so much so that we didn’t watch the second episode. We moved on to Abbott Elementary and Alien: Earth, both of which were rather interesting. I’m not really sure where this show falls in the Alien timeline–I’m not even sure I’ve seen all the movies, to be honest–but it’s interesting enough on its own, and maybe we don’t need to know any of that stuff to be entertained by the show. I did have games on during the day in the living room–but wasn’t watching, really. I do know Georgia beat Kentucky, Alabama beat Vanderbilt, Florida beat Texas (LOL), and Miami beat Florida State. Oh yes, UCLA beat Penn State1 (another LOL). But it just goes to show how little anyone knows before the season begins and any games have been played, which again demonstrates how useless polls are this early in the season–but have to have rankings to drive ratings, right?

Now remind yourself that polls used to determine the national champion at the end of the year and you can see how fucked up college football used to be, when smaller schools without the brand names of USC, Notre Dame, Ohio State, Alabama or Texas had little to no chance of landing in the top five until after the halfway point of the season. It’s called bias, and everyone is biased when things are determined by observation and personal opinion. Now those biases come out when the play-off selections are made. Sad, but true. I can’t complain too much, because LSU is now one of those brands (only Alabama has won more national titles this century), but I said all along after the Clemson brand that LSU was overrated, and I was right. I wanted to be wrong, but…

I also started my reread of The Haunting of Hill House and Shirley Jackson truly was a witch. How did she think of those sentences, these characters, this story? I always find myself in awe every time I reread this book, or whenever I read something new of hers. I’ve not read all the short stories or the novels, but I do want to at some point. I have the Hangsaman audiobook downloaded into my phone; maybe I should listen to that on my drive than what I already downloaded? Something to think over by Wednesday, for sure.

I am still boiling angry at the Kyren Lacy situation–as well as Trey Reed’s murder. When will southern white cops stop brushing aside inconvenient facts and truths when it comes to young Black men? The state cop who framed Lacy should get the death penalty as far as I am concerned, and the Lacy family should sue the state of Louisiana and bankrupt it. It’s the lack of consequence which leads to more incidents of this kind, and I for one have little to no desire to go back to the so-called halcyon past all white supremacists fantasize about.

What is even more sickening to me is wondering whether I would be as angry about this case had the young man not been a former LSU star or not, and I do have to wonder. But I can comfort myself with thinking that I watched him play for three years and was a fan, hence the outrage. I am outraged about Trey Reed, too–but perhaps its my familiarity with Lacy that makes it more visceral to me?

Both young men should be ALIVE.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I have a lot to get done today and I need to get started. No worries, though; I will be back in the morning with another update!

This is the building where the first American born Princess of Monaco, Alice Heine, was born and raised. She was fascinating, and I don’t understand why she isn’t better known. I’ve always wanted to write about her.
  1. I believe, in my football superstitious mindset, that Penn State’s program was cursed once we all found out how craven and revolting Joe Paterno was in covering up years of sexual abuse of boys there–so they’ll never quite make it to the top of the heap, but will get their hopes up every year only to be cruelly dashed. I also think they wouldn’t have been cursed if their fans hadn’t opposed and rioted over the firing of a pedophile accomplice. Priorities. ↩︎

The Planet Earth Rock and Roll Orchestra

Work at home Friday, and all is peaceful in the Lost Apartment this morning. Huzzah? I think this is a definite huzzah. I have a department meeting later this morning (online) and a lot of quality assurance to get done before I get to dive back into the book as we enter into the home stretch. Isn’t it exciting? I need to be finished by close of business EST Monday, and I worry that I may need every minute of that time. But there’s nothing else to do but get to work on it, is there? I think we’re also going to run to Costco after I am done working, too. It’s going to be quite the busy day for me.

The independent autopsy of Trey Reed, the young Delta State student found hanging not so long ago, concluded the cause of death was actually blunt force trauma, not hanging, which makes it murder, not suicide. Anyone surprised the cops and legal system in Mississippi covered up the murder of a Black college student? I certainly wasn’t, and anyone who believed those initial findings–the cops determined it was a suicide immediately, and didn’t bother looking for anything else–is a fucking racist and moron. When it comes to anyone who isn’t white or straight in the South, authority simply can’t be bothered. It may NOT be racism; it could just be sheer laziness and incompetence, but forget it, Jake–it’s Mississippi.

And thank you, Colin Kaerpernick, for your foundation’s work and paying for the independent autopsy so his family can try to seek what passes for justice in that wretched state. (There’s an entire essay to be written about Kaerpernick and the NFL’s selective and unbalanced and unfair approach to protest and political speech, but I am also sure any number of Black writers have done so already, and also have done exceptional work on the topic making anything I could write or say overly simplistic and from too privileged a perspective to do much good for anyone.)

Yesterday was a good day for the most part but I was terribly exhausted when I got home, and wasn’t really able to do much of anything once I was here. I’d already done most of the chores on Wednesday night so there wasn’t much to do last night, and over the weekend I can do the odds and ends that are left to be done. I caught up on the news–the Theo Von break with MAGA was an interesting turn (the rise of reality show performers into the political arena is also something that needs to be written about, if for no other reason than to warn future voters about the dangers of celebrity politicians, no matter how minor the celebrity may have been). Theo is from the North Shore of Louisiana, and he used to work out at my sorely missed gym around the corner (nice body, aging into redneck face). I watched one of his stand-up specials a while back, out of curiosity; I turned it off ten minutes in because I hadn’t even cracked a smile once. Next thing I knew, he’s a podcaster with incredible reach that he used for evil and to help destroy the country. He’s waking up to the knowledge he was played for a sucker…but I also don’t feel terribly sorry for him, either. What am I supposed to think? “Sorry you’re not nearly as smart as you thought you were”? And…the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain is populated pretty heavily with white racists who fled the integration of the public school system in New Orleans.

And don’t even get me started on Sean fucking Duffy.

But I slept pretty well last night and feel very rested this morning. My legs feel a bit tired, but that’s nothing I can’t deal with and I am going to be seated most of the day…although sometimes they tighten up if I sit for a long time. After Paul got home, we watched this week’s The Morning Show and Peacemaker–which I am really enjoying this season, and will definitely be writing about the show once this season concludes–before retiring to bed for the evening pretty early.

Sigh, it’s going to be glorious not really having to get up to an alarm for a week….because my vacation also begins when I finish day job work today. Huzzah!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in which you tomorrow, okay?

Ride Captain Ride

Saturday! Sparky let me sleep late again, bless his little heart, and so I feel rested and good this morning. I have to run the errands I didn’t run yesterday (when I finished working I wasn’t in the mood to leave the house, other than a walk to Walgreens) and other than that, I am staying inside and working today on my own stuff. There are some games today I might watch (or have on in the background while I clean or write or read) besides LSU’s game tonight against SLU; Auburn-Oklahoma comes to mind for this afternoon, and Tulane plays Mississippi at the same time (GO WAVE!). Miami also plays Florida tonight, and I also haven’t looked to see what non-SEC games might be interesting to have on at some point.

I did get some things done yesterday around the house which pleased me enormously; I have some final touches to be done today around writing and reading. I need to redo my workspace because the last reorganization seemed like a good idea but…it’s not, and the workspace feels more cramped than it ever has, and I just can’t with that, you know? The apartment always feels cramped when it’s not in order, which I dislike intensely, and it feels pretty wide open this morning. I still need to vacuum the rugs and put dishes away, but other than that the house is pretty in order. Huzzah!

The Trey Reed story continues, and the official autopsy ruled it a “suicide,” although I’m not precisely sure how you can make that distinction between murder and suicide when the death is by hanging. From a tree. In Mississippi. Pardon me for not trusting anything official coming out of Mississippi regarding the strange death by hanging of a young Black man. I was also glad to see Colin Kaepernick’s foundation is paying for an independent autopsy on behalf of the family. (Speaking of Kaepernick, does anyone else see the NFL’s hypocrisy on drumming him out of the League for taking a knee when so many of them had a memorial moment pre-game for Charlie Kirk? Side-eye at you, Gail Benson–and I’ve not forgotten you and the Saints’ role in the New Orleans priest/pedophile cover-up, either….making it really hard for me to root for the Saints, you know? Also remember, she got all of Tom Benson’s money by cutting off his blood relatives…)

While I was doing my quality assurance work yesterday, I sat in my chair with Sparky sleeping around my feet and put Superman on to rewatch while I was working, and I have to say, it’s just as excellent the second viewing as it was the first…and I generally tend to not rewatch a film I’ve seen recently, so rewatching was saying something to begin with. Honestly, I’ve really not stopped thinking about this film since we saw it, and have watched numerous reviews and critiques (almost all positive) on Youtube ever since. I also had a lot more thoughts while watching the second time. The first time I watched it was as a viewer; and I am very glad we saw it on the wide screen, and I just wanted the experience. This time, I was able to pay closer attention to details and the plot, and so forth. The magic holds up on a second watch, and it also reminded me of why Superman is so wildly beloved. I also was able to pick out “the hero’s journey” out of the story this time, and I also realized that the Kents work because they were always supposed to be old for parents; they were already past any hope of having a child of their own when they found the baby and the rocket in their corn field, so almost every iteration of the Kents has been canonically wrong every time–the former Bo Duke and Lana Lang casting of the Kents in Smallville was particularly wrong, too. (He’s also a “found orphaned boy,” too.) Wendell Pierce was perfect casting as Perry White (and really, can’t we have Pierce in almost everything? He elevates everything he’s in, seriously.)–the entire film was expertly cast.

And I also realized I want to write more about Superman and revisit my love of the character from childhood, as well as writing about both Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen, because I finally remembered that the reason I wanted to be a journalist when I went to college was primarily because the idea took root from the Superman comics, and my affinity for Clark, Lois and Jimmy.

I also realized yesterday why I was having so much trouble with this book before I got sick; I am covering some unfortunate events in this story for Scotty and the boys and while the final third of the book is absolutely necessary, it’s not going to be easy to get done because it’s troubling. There’s a lot of work to do on this manuscript, but I feel like I can do it now.

And on that note, it isn’t getting done with me sitting here writing this, so I am going to bring this to a close and head into the spice mines. Have a great Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow.

Screenshot

Beach Baby

I love this song still to this very day. It came out during a time where nostalgia was big–especially the 1950s–and the Beach Boys had just made another comeback and their album Endless Summer was a huge hit. The song is very reminiscent of the Beach Boys–all that California sun and surf and cheerfulness and high school hops–but there was a melancholy under all that cheerful nostalgia, especially with the background refrain, oft-repeated through it, of do you remember? do you remember? (The song also come out around the same time as a book called What Really Happened to the Class of 65? and I always associated the song with the book.)

It is Tuesday morning and I am up early, as always, swilling coffee and eating coffee cake, care of Costco. I did finish editing that story, and got it turned in. I hope the editor likes it. I had the idea for it many years ago–not that long, but it seems like it now–and started writing it, getting a draft done before wondering where to try to sell it. I was going to submit it to the Minneapolis Bouchercon anthology I edited, putting it through the anonymous read process as I did for the New Orleans and St. Petersburg ones because it would look like “insider pool” if I was accepted. (I have not submitted to a Bouchercon anthology since being told this, by the way. If their board thinks I would just automatically put my own story in there instead of following the same procedure as everyone else? I don’t need to be in any of their anthologies in the future.) I’ve had the idea for a long time–going back to when I actually lived in Minneapolis, which is where I also came up with the title, which is one of my favorites of all my titles. I did try selling some other places, but the story was still…not quite right, and was rejected, as it should have been. I think I was able to fix it, but…we’ll have to see. But it felt good to work on it, and I also realized that just because it doesn’t “feel” the same to write and edit as it used to, doesn’t mean I’m not doing good work. I’ve changed, both physically and mentally, and that’s going to make things seem different to me than how they used to work, you know?

Yesterday wasn’t a bad day, you know. We weren’t as busy at work as I had expected, primarily from no-shows and last minute reschedules, so I wasn’t exhausted when I got home from work and worked on the story. I didn’t do any chores–the kitchen somehow exploded again, I don’t know how all this happens, honestly–so when I get home tonight I can’t write or read or even catch up on the news until those chores are completed. I hate when the downstairs is a mess, and the whole apartment, when it’s out of order, feels very cramped and small and claustrophobic. Because I am all about the claustrophobia? Apparently so. I slept well again last night and don’t feel terribly sleepy or tired this morning, which is a good thing. Sparky was a combination cuddle-bug/attack kitty this morning before I got up, and went into attack mode again while I was putting my shoes on. I think Paul will be working late at the office tonight, if I am not mistaken, and so it’ll be time for some bonding time after I write (or while I read and edit). I doubt I’ll be catching up on the news; the current story dominating the legacy “media” doesn’t interest me, nor am I interested in being shamed for not mourning someone who advocated me being stoned to death, either. (Miss me with the “he didn’t say that!” Okay, then, tell me one positive thing he ever said about queer rights and equality. I’ll wait.)

The story not getting this fawning, wall-to-wall coverage from the legacy media? How about the two men lynched on consecutive days in Mississippi? The Mississippi “police” already determined the Black college student’s death had “no evidence of foul play.” Really? The other victim was a white homeless man, and their names were, respectively, Trey Reed of Delta State University and Cory Zukatis. After all, it’s not like the Mississippi police have a history of covering up hate crimes or anything. (eye roll to infinity)

We are living in dark times, indeed.

And on that grim note, I am heading into the spice mines. Stay safe, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning.