#Gas On Lake Norman

[boatlakenorman]

Nic's Gas & Go

Nic’s Gas & Go Gas Service We strive to be the most convenient one stop shop on the waters of Lake Norman by offering competitive gas pricing, ship store with selective items and a bar and grill, Waterside Bar & Grill. Convenience Whether you need a quick snack, NC Wildlife license, notary service, or an ice cold drink Nic’s has you covered!  Unique Selection We take pride in carrying a…

[naplesgolfguy]

New Price! $100,000 price reduction on this stunning Corsica Coach home in Talis Park. A 1st-floor “Messina” Model that lives like a single-family home. BRIGHT and LIGHT, this Southern exposure home overlooks a serene lake on one of THE BEST LOTS in Corsica.

Move right into this spacious 2023 coach home that was just completed and features high ceilings and is LOADED WITH UPGRADES including engineered hardwood floors and tile throughout as well as custom lighting.

A CHEF’s DREAM KITCHEN with a Gas stove, oversized kitchen island, extended upper kitchen cabinets, built-in fridge, wine cooler, and walk-in pantry is at the heart of this open floor plan concept. The lanai includes an OUTDOOR KITCHEN and GAS GRILL!

Greg Norman and Pete Dye designed Talis Park’s AWARD WINNING golf course. In addition to golf, those with a golf membership will enjoy world-class practice facilities including a full grass driving range, chipping and putting area.

All residents can access multiple dining options, clubhouse, Har-Tru tennis courts, Pickleball courts, bocce ball, fitness center, full-service spa, basketball court, dog park, walking trails, and private beach shuttle to Vanderbilt Beach.

Matt Klinowski aka Naples Golf Guy | Downing Frye Realty Here's to living the good life in paradise, Matt

[berrycobbler]

[ID: a series of quotes which read as follows:

My girlfriend and I both love to read on vacation. Once, on a camping trip, I finished my book early. She was halfway through a hefty novel and ripped out the first hundred pages to give to me. This tradition of giving each other “leaflets” has allowed us to share our favorite books, and the trips we read them on, that much more closely.

– Laura Birnbaum, Washington, D.C.

Today, every day, and on Valentine’s Day, I will visit my wife of 56 years. We are separated by her dementia. I will tell her what’s been going on outside, as I spoon-feed her in her care-home hospital bed. She says, “Thank you,” when I tell her I love her. We both know she would say more, if only she could. We have had a great life together, ever since the second grade. She is slowly leaving, I know that. But we’re a pair until then.

– Gene Lock, Sacramento, Calif.

My husband is Filipino, and I am not, so I learned to cook pancit, a noodle dish his mother made. It makes him happy. We cut vegetables, chop meat, then assemble the dish, always refining our understanding of it. It’s like love — it gets better every time.

– Muffie Alejandro, Los Angeles

We say, “I love you” every time one of us leaves the house. It seems small, but after almost 17 years of marriage, I would feel like I had left my keys behind if I hadn’t said it.

– Kate Reymann, Salt Lake City

I have half a banana for breakfast, and my husband always carves a heart on the cut end.

– Jill Black, Kalispell, Mont.

When my cancer diagnosis recurred this fall, my husband of 54 years began folding 1,000 origami cranes. Legend says that they will bring good luck and good health. We have installed them in our hallway as a constant reminder of hope and joy. They are beautiful to look at, and they also seem to be working, as I am responding to treatment.

– Jane Berke, Alpharetta, Ga.

I hate the sound of liquids being stirred or shaken. So whenever my husband stirs or shakes something, he shouts, “La la la la!” to protect my sensitive ears. (I’ve actually learned to manage my aversion, but I don’t tell him, because I think his off-tune singing is adorable.)

– Emily Strahler, Bethlehem, N.H.

Offhandedly, my husband said that he felt loved when his socks were ready to put on. Since then, I roll his socks into pairs.

– Chris Jacques, Golden, Colo.

My husband loves new bars of soap, so when I need to replace mine, I take his and give him the new one.

– Shannon Moise, British Columbia, Canada

My husband of 30-some years lets me put my cold hands on his body to warm them. We are a husband-and-wife oyster-farming team, so in the winter this is especially endearing.

– Cindy West, South Kingstown, R.I.

Every time my girlfriend calls me, I answer the phone by saying, “It’s the most beautiful woman in the world!”

– Jeremiah Whitten, Minneapolis

My husband and I got married on June 7, 30 years ago. Every month on the seventh, we like to wish each other a happy anniversary — and be the first to do it. Most often, he beats me to it.

– Patricia Davis, Westbrook, Conn.

My husband always makes sure that my car’s gas tank is full, the windshield wipers are in good shape and the fluids are topped off. That’s his way of telling me that he’ll never leave me stranded.

– Diane Norman, Herndon, Va.

I was diagnosed with a vitamin D deficiency a few years ago. My husband began taking out two capsules and leaving them for me in a tiny dish in our bathroom. It was a gentle reminder to take my vitamins and stay healthy. The gesture feels like a very sweet, “I love you.” When I take the pills and he’s in earshot, I say, “I love you, too.”

– Cynthia Copeland, Pasadena, Calif.

For more than 21 years, my husband has given me the last bite of his dessert, always.

– Jennifer Grissom, Los Angeles

My precious husband, to whom I was married for 46 glorious years, passed away six years ago. But not a day has gone by since when I haven’t blown a kiss to the photograph of him that I keep on my bedroom table.

– Karen Strauss, New Rochelle, N.Y. /end ID.]

The New York Times did a piece titled 100 Small Acts of Love and these are some of my favorites 💕

[wutbju]

Jonathan Wesley Brush, a man of faith, love, and laughter, was born on August 17, 1952, in Columbus, GA. He was called home by the Lord on June 26, 2023, in Six Mile, SC. Jonathan's life was a testament to his unwavering faith and his deep love for his family, friends, and community.

Jonathan was a beacon of light in the lives of his beloved wife, Kim Cravens Brush, his cherished children, Amy, Stephanie, Ashley, Kolbey, and Hayes, his adored siblings, Norman, Rhonda, Gordon, Elizabeth, Phyliss, Benjamin, and Melissa, and his treasured grandchildren and great-grandchildren. His parents, Norman and Nell Brush, predeceased him, and we take comfort knowing that they have welcomed him into the heavenly kingdom.

Jonathan's pursuit of knowledge led him to Hobe Sound Bible College, where he earned a BA degree in Bible in 1975. His passion for education didn't stop there. He went on to obtain master's degrees in education and education Administration from Bob Jones University in 1982 and 1983. His dedication to learning and his faith was a guiding light throughout his life.

After a few years in education, Jonathan returned to his construction roots and obtained his general contractor's license. He owned his own contracting businesses, Carne and Brush Builders and Brush Builders, and started up the concrete division for McGee Brothers in Greer. His work was not just a job but a testament to his character – sturdy, reliable, and built to last.

Jonathan was a man who loved the simple pleasures in life. He found peace and joy in the beauty of nature, whether it was watching the sunrise over the ocean with a cup of coffee in hand or enjoying a sunset boat ride on Lake Keowee with his family. His new home on the lake was a testament to his love for the water and the tranquility it brought him.

People were naturally drawn to Jonathan. His quick wit and sarcasm were legendary, and he always had a way of making everyone feel welcome and loved. As the old saying goes, "A Day without laughter is a day wasted," and Jonathan made sure no day was wasted. Music was another of Jonathan's passions. He was an excellent trombonist and a member of the BJU Trombone Choir during his college years. He continued to play in the church orchestra in recent years, and his beautiful voice was often heard singing the old hymns and Gaither standards. His music was a gift he shared freely, touching the hearts of all who heard him.

In the words of the great theologian, John Wesley, "Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can."

Jonathan Wesley Brush was a man of faith, filled with love, and always ready with a laugh. He was a pillar of his community, a devoted family man, and a steadfast friend.

His legacy will live on in the hearts and memories of all who knew him. As we say our earthly goodbyes, we take comfort in knowing that he is now singing with the angels, his voice joining the heavenly choir. His life was a song of faith, love, and laughter, and that melody will echo in our hearts forever.

[castlegaterealestategroup]

18813 Nautical Drive #306, Cornelius, NC 28031 & Castle Gate Group

Call this rare 3 bedroom 2 bath condo located on the third floor in Admirals Quarters home today. Newly updated and consisting of laminate wood floors throughout, granite counters, split bedroom floor plan, updated bathrooms with tile shower, walk-in closet, oversized living room with gas fireplace, and vaulted ceilings. Sit and relax on the large back patio with access from the living room and master bedroom or the secluded quaint patio off the second bedroom. Conveniently located within walking distance to restaurants and Lake Norman. This community has a ton of amenities to choose from whether its the pool, gym, tennis courts, and/or lake access

[chorusfm]

Counting Crows & Dashboard Confessional Tour

Counting Crows and Dashboard Confessional are touring together. 06/13 – Omaha, NE @ Steelhouse Omaha 06/17 – Indianapolis, IN @ TCU Amphitheater at Winter River State Park ^& 06/18 – Cincinnati, OH @ PNC Pavilion ^& 06/21 – Milwaukee, WI @ Miller High Life Theatre ^& 06/23 – Highland Park, IL @ Ravinia Festival 06/24 – Sterling Heights, MI @ Michigan Lottery Amphitheatre at Freedom Hill ^& 06/26 – Moon Twp, PA @ UPMC Events Center ^& 06/28 – Niagara Falls, ON @ OLG Stage at Fallsview Casino ^& 06/29 – Northfield, OH @ MGM Northfield Park ^& 07/01 – Syracuse, NY @ St. Joseph’s Health Amphitheater at Lakeview ^& 07/02 – Canandaigua, NY @ CMAC ^& 07/05 – Saratoga Springs, NY @ Saratoga Performing Arts Center ^& 07/06 – Holmdel, NJ @ PNC Bank Arts Center ^& 07/08 – Wantagh, NY @ Northwell Health at Jones Beach Theater ^& 07/09 – Bethel, NY @ Bethel Woods Center for the Arts ^& 07/12 – Columbia, MD @ Merriweather Post Pavilion ^& 07/14 – Gilford, NH @ Bank of New Hampshire Pavilion ^& 07/15 – Boston, MA @ Leader Bank Pavilion ^& 07/18 – Providence, RI @ Providence Performing Arts Center ^& 07/19 – Bridgeport, CT @ Hartford HealthCare Amphitheater ^& 07/21 – Bethlehem, PA @ Wind Creek Event Center ^& 07/22 – Atlantic City, NJ @ Borgata Event Center ^& 07/25 – Selbyville, DE @ Freeman Arts Pavilion ^& 07/26 – Doswell, VA @ The Meadow Event Park ^& 07/28 – Virginia Beach, VA @ Veterans United Home Loans Amphitheater at Virginia Beach ^& 07/29 – Raleigh, NC @ Red Hat Amphitheater ^& 08/01 – Charlotte, NC @ Skyla Credit Union Amphitheatre ^& 08/02 – Charleston, SC @ Credit One Stadium ^& 08/04 – Fort Myers, FL @ Suncoast Credit Union Arena ^& 08/05 – Fort Lauderdale, FL @ Hard Rock Live ^& 08/08 – St Augustine, FL @ The St. Augustine Amphitheatre ^& 08/09 – Tampa, FL @ MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre ^& 08/11 – Alpharetta, GA @ Ameris Bank Amphitheatre ^& 08/12 – Albertville, AL @ Sand Mountain Amphitheater ^& 08/14 – Nashville, TN @ Grand Ole Opry ^& 08/18 – New Orleans, LA @ Saenger Theatre v 08/19 – Sugar Land, TX @ Smart Financial Centre at Sugar Land ^& 08/22 – San Antonio, TX @ Majestic Theatre ^& 08/23 – Irving, TX @ The Pavilion at Toyota Music Factory ^& 08/25 – Norman, OK @ Riverwind Casino ^& 08/26 – Tulsa, OK @ The Cove ^& 08/30 – Highland, CA @ Yaamava’ Theater ^ 08/31 – Phoenix, AZ @ Arizona Financial Theatre & 09/02 – Las Vegas, NV @ Pearl Theater & 09/03 – San Diego, CA @ The Rady Shell at Jacobs Park & 09/06 – Los Angeles, CA @ YouTube Theater ^& 09/08 – Lincoln, CA @ The Venue at Thunder Valley ^& 09/10 – Berkeley, CA 2 The Greek Theatre ^& 09/13 – Airway Heights, WA @ BECU Live Outdoor Venue ^& 09/14 – Bend, OR @ Hayden Homes Amphitheater ^& 09/16 – Seattle, WA @ TBD 09/17 – Seattle, WA @ TBD 09/19 – Bonner, MT @ KettleHouse Amphitheater ^& 09/21 – Boise, ID @ Ford Idaho Center Amphitheater ^& 09/22 – Salt Lake City, UT @ USANA Amphitheatre ^& 09/25 – Morrison, CO @ Red Rocks Amphitheatre ^& ^ Dashboard Confessional & Frank Turner --- Please consider becoming a member so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/news/counting-crows-dashboard-confessional-tour/

[flatstarcarcosa]

had 2 take a shower bc i can’t figure out how this acne gel my doctor gave me is supposed to work outside ‘slathering it on letting it sit and then rinsing it off in the shower’, and man

thought about like, by the time norman and i are almost done cleaning out my old house, i’ve finally gotten him acclimatized to being in the middle of literally nowhere, even if he hasn’t realized it yet, and the way being isolated like that can force you to sit down and think about things because fuck,

there’s nothing else to do.

****

i drag him down to the beach, using the illegally-created but never filled back in path from the property across the street. he comments ‘aren’t you always the one talking about how trespassing down here gets you shot?’ and i say well, yeah.

but only if the person you’re trespassing against knows you’re doing it, and the property owner doesn’t, so it’s fine, shut up.

he shuts up.

we plop down in the sand and he comments it’s not a bad set up for a lake in the middle of the woods, actually.

“well at one point it was the biggest man-made lake in the country,” i say, standing and snapping a branch over my knee. i pause, staring off at the darkened shore and grinning a little. “man i always wanted to go scuba diving around this place.” i snap another branch. “they flooded the farmland, you know. just left it as is. no sense demolishing something yourself when nature will do it once you get it going.”

“what the hell for?” norman asks.

i snap another branch. shrug. “dunno,” i say. “never looked it up, never cared. wasn’t about why, was just about...is.”

he opens his mouth, biting comment about rednecks refusing to look things up being responsible for oh so many things at the ready, and somehow manages to swallow it down.

“anyway,” i say, shrugging. “dig me a hole.”

and then we argue for ten minutes about how yes you need a fucking hole to make a bonfire on the fucking beach you stupid yankee ass, and it ends up taking half an hour to do something i coulda done in less than ten minutes, but eventually i have a moderately sized bonfire, shitty gas station booze and the joy of getting to watch norman be forced to do something truly horrible:

attempt to smoke a black and mild.

“this is about 6 misdemeanors by the way,” i add, tossing a stick onto the fire.

“let me guess,” he says, “technically state park land, still on your bucket list anyway?”

“shit, ain’t no technically about it,” i say. “but yeah. but also, show me one fuckin’ person in this area that gives a shit about those laws and i’ll still say you’re full of shit; park rangers included.”

he raises an eyebrow. “really?”

i tell him they’re usually only around during the peak season anyway, and since it’s mid september, peak season ended a week or so ago. aside from that, it’s always been an unspoken rule that minor infractions are fine, as long as you’re not being stupid or rude and you make sure to clean up after yourself.

“you know,” i say after a while, “i didn’t realize how much i missed this until i had to come back.”

norman scoffs and stubs out the cigar in the sand, silently admitting defeat. “i don’t see how there’s anything to miss.”

“i’m not talkin’ about the house,” i say, “or...the town, the people. it’s just....this.” i gesture with both arms, around us, and he frowns.

“there’s nothing here,” he says. “i just drove 42 minutes round trip to get gas station booze that’s barely a step above prison hooch.”

“norman,” i say, “look up.”

he doesn’t.

i sigh, and sit up straighter. “come on, for once, just do what i’m asking without making a thing out of it.”

“fine.” he looks up.

“what do you see?” i ask.

“nothing, as we’ve already established,” he says, still looking skywards. “there’s nothing out here but sky and star-”

he stops. blinks.

“well, shit,” he says, softly.

“last time i saw this many stars was when you took me joyriding with that old armor,” i say.

“only because we went above the light pollution,” he says, and i wonder if he’s noticed the way his voice has softened.

“more here than there used to be,” i say. “after the housing crash it left a lotta empty land for real cheap, so the land developers n’ old southern money started buying shit up on the shorelines.” i squint a little. “i can make out more'n a dozen houses that weren’t there when i left. bet they’re ugly fucking mcmansions, too.”

i wonder if he’s noticed the blurring of the spaces between my words, the drawl creeping its way back out of me. or, if the last few days has made it blend in along with everyone else.

“i thought my upstate house was far out, but this...” he says.

“your upstate house is carefully positioned and meticulously manicured in some woods to make it feel like it’s balls deep in seclusion,” i say. “until you cross the property line and there’s a fuckin’ kroger two lights away. and don’t get me wrong, i like it.”

“but it’s not this,” he says. he leans back, still looking up, and stretching one leg out in the sand. “i can’t remember the last time i saw this many stars.”

“i hated this place,” i say. “i still do. they’re demolishing that fucking house as soon as we’re done, and i still haven’t decided if i want to watch it go or not. i always hated being so rural, so cut off, so...”

“...alone,” he finishes.

“yeah,” i say. “but i guess it took having to come back to realize it really wasn’t all bad. it’s...it’s just land, you know? clay and water, trees and grass and all the little bits of life dotted around.”

“well,” he says, “i don’t know about life, exactly-”

“you are literally a scientist, you could probably rattle off a dozen microbes hanging out in this sand right now that’ll make me wanna camp in a hermetically sealed room for a week,” i say.

he chuckles.

“it’s just weird,” i continue, dragging my fingers through the chilly sand. “i always thought once i left, that’d be it, i wouldn’t think twice about anything. but now that i’ve had to come back, i’m thinking about so many things, but none of them are what i expected.”

“it’s your home,” he says.

“that house was never a home for anyone,” i say.

he looks over at me. “i know,” he says. “we’ve established you aren’t talking about the house. but like you said, this,” he gestures, “is where you spent the first part of your life. regardless of what happened, it’s still your home. sometimes home is a house, but it can be a place, too.”

“homesick for a place i never loved,” i say softly. “how ironic.”

“i still own mine,” he says.

i blink. “what?”

“the house i grew up in,” he says. “haven’t been to it in a long time. frankly i only know it’s still standing because i see tax forms for it every year. good location, too. i could sell it and make enough off it that my father might dig his way out of a grave just to get his cut. instead, it just sits there every year, and every year i imagine all those little bits of life you were talking about gain more ground for themselves.”

“why keep it around?” i ask.

“it’s my home,” he says.

[itsthemysterykids]

Scary stories around the campfire with the mystery kids

Raz: This is the story of a boy who drowned many years ago in that very lake, and he returned with a vengeance!

Wybie: Isn’t that Friday the 13th?

Raz: Only if you believe it is.

Wybie: Uh-Huh… Well, here’s an actual scary story.

THE SHIVING!

Dipper: You mean “The Shining”?

Wybie: Wanna get sued?

TUESDAY

The Mystery Academy school bus is driving on the side of a mountain, towards a large mansion in the distance. In the bus is a small class of nine.

Dipper tells everyone, “Well, it was a long trip, but we're almost there.”

Mabel asks herself, “Did I remember to lock the front door?”

Everyone frowned. “Damn it.”

WEDNESDAY

Back on their way, Raz says, “Well it's been two long trips, but we're finally almost there again.”

Wybie turns to Mabel and asks, “Mabel, when you remembered to lock the front door, did you remember to lock the back door?”

Everyone frowned again, “Damn it!”

THURSDAY

Back on their way, everyone is looking bored. Neil notices something and gasps. “You guys! We left Dib back at the gas station!” No one seemed concerned by this. As they approached the mansion, Neil asked again, “What about Dib?”

The bus then stops in front of the mansion. The students unpack as the owner of the mansion, Lord Cipher, watches from the distance and wrings his hands evilly, “Ah, the new caretakers have arrived.” He chuckles, “They work hard, and they play hard.” He narrows his eyes. “I’ll see to it.”

Inside, Lord Cipher is showing the students around. “This house has quite a long and colorful history. It was built on an ancient Indian burial ground,” the group passes by a plate of armor and a suspicious collection of axes on the wall, “and was also the setting for Satanic rituals, witch burnings, and five John Denver Christmas specials.”

Raz shudders, “Oh, John Denver.”

Norman raises his hand, “Tell us more about the witch burnings.”

There’s a ding. The elevator door opens up, releasing a pool of blood. As it reaches everyone’s ankles, they look freaked out, except for Norman and Wybie. Cipher explains, “That's odd. Usually, the blood gets off at the second floor.”

Norman smiled, “I’m gonna like it here.”

Outside near a hedge maze, Coraline and Wybie are walking around when they come across the groundskeeper. It was Emmit, their school’s janitor

“Emmit, what are you doing here?” Coraline asked.

“Well, if it isn’t blue hair and curly! I got a job here as the groundskeeper. So, you and your class are the new caretakers I heard?”

Before another word was said, a chainsaw cuts through the hedge maze. A circle falls, showing Raz, Neil, and Mabel. Raz was holding the chainsaw, and behind them are many holes cut in the hedges.

They step out and Raz says, “Hey, I found a shortcut through your hedge maze.” He hands the chainsaw back to Emmit, “Merci, my good man!”

As they walk away, Emmit glares as if he wanted to hurt them. “Why you...!” He stops himself and thinks, ‘No, no. Go easy on the kids. Pretty soon the cap boy will go crazy and grind them into haggis.’

Coraline gasps, “Dipper’s gonna do what?!”

“Do what?” Wybie asked.

Emmit gasps, “Jones, you've read my thoughts! You've got the shiving!”

Wybie crosses his arms and gives Emmit a skeptical look. “You mean ‘shining’.”

Emmit shushes him. “You want to get sued? Now look boy, if your friend goes crazy, you use that... "shiv" of yours to call me and I'll come a-running.” As he begins to walk away, he quickly adds, “But don't read my mind between 4:00 and 5:00. That's Emmit’s time!”

He finally leaves. Coraline and Wybie are very confused.

Back at the mansion, Lord Cipher cuts a wire connected to the Wi-Fi and the TV. “With no television or WiFi, I can ensure an honest winter’s work out of those children.” He says to himself, “I wonder if this is what caused the previous caretakers to go insane and murder their friends?... Nah!”

The students are in their room. Dipper walks in, searching for something, “Has anyone seen my laptop?”

Neil makes a hook with his pointer finger. “Redrum.”

“Huh?”

“I said ‘red room’,” he replies. “Your laptop was in a red room, but the screen was completely cracked.”

Dipper shrugs, unconcerne. “Okay! I guess I can just watch some tv.”

“No good.” Lili shakes her head. “The cable’s out.”

Coraline is flipping through the channels, seeing only static. “Yep. Nothing’s on.”

“Well, at least I have my phone.” Dipper takes out his cellphone, but it was showing no service, “Oh... No WiFi either... How nice.”

“Dipper, I'm impressed,” Norman commended. “You're taking this pretty well.”

Dipper suddenly snaps, looking at everyone with a glare, “I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you!”

Wybie slaps him across the face. “Snap out of it!”

Dipper calms down. “Sorry. Sorry. Don't worry. There's plenty I can do occupied.” He goes for the door. “Maybe I'll check out that axe collection.”, before he leaves, he says in a menancing voice, “See you later.” Then he slams the door behind him.

After a few seconds of silence, Lili asked, “Is he going to kill us?”

“No!...” Wybie thought about it for a moment. “... Probably... Definitely.”

Off in a café in the mansion, Dipper sits alone when the barista shows up behind the counter and asks, “What’ll it be, kid?”

“Coffee. Black. I’m not gonna survive here!” He screamed.

The barista smirks. “Not unless you kill your friends.”

Dipper gasps. “Kill them?! Why should I kill my friends?!”

The barista answered quickly, “They'd be much happier as ghosts.”

“You don't look so happy,” Dipper said skeptically.

The barista forced a smile. “Oh, I'm happy. I'm very happy.” He starts dancing. “Lalalalalalalalala, see? Now waste your friends, and I'll give you a coffee.”

Dipper ponders this for a moment, “Well, I shouldn’t be listening to murderous ghosts... Ah, what the hell?”

In a large dark room, Norman walks around and calls out, “Dipper? Dipper!” He sees a typewriter on a table, “Guess he decided to do his texting on this typewriter.”

He slowly walks up to the typewriter. Typed on the paper is, ‘Doin’ fine.’ “Oh, that's a relief.”

A flash of lightning strikes, revealing "No TV and No WiFi make Dipper Go Crazy" all over the walls, “... This is less encouraging.” He turns around and screams when he sees Dipper standing there. his hair is a mess, his cap askew, and his clothes are wrinkled.

Dipper asks in an ominous tone, “What do you think, Norman? All I need is a header. I was thinking along the lines of "No TV and No WiFi Make Dipper..." something, something.”

Norman gulped before nervously asking, “‘Go Crazy’?”

Dipper shouts, “Don't mind if I do!” He utters a bunch of gibberish before lunging for Norman, who screams and runs away.

Norman runs towards a glass container that had, “BREAK IN CASE OF SIGNIFICANT OTHER INSANITY” written on the glass, and a baseball bat inside it. He breaks the glass and grabs the bat, swinging it to keep Dipprr away, “Stay back, Dipper! I don’t wanna use this!”

Dipper pursues him up a flight of stairs, Norman continues to swing the bat. “Give me the bat, Dipper! Give me the bat. Give me the bat! Come on. Give me the bat. Come on!” Norman screams, he cackles, “Scaredy cat!” Norman smacks him with the bat and he falls down the stairs. Once at the bottom, Norman goes to check on him.

The rest of the students stood around, not at all shocked by what just happened.

Coralinetsked. “Another victim claimed by cabin fever.”

Norman grabs Dipper under her shoulders, “Mabel, Neil, help me carry him to the freezer.”

In the freezer, Norman, Mabel, and Neil lay Dipper’s body gently on the floor.

Mabel tells them, “Okay, he can stay in here until he’s no longer insane.” He picks up a can. “You guys want chili tonight?”

Norman and Neil nod, then leave, shutting the door on their way out.

Sometime later, Dipper, no longer insane, was sitting on the floor and eating through a tub of strawberry ice cream. A knock is then heard on the door.

The barista calls out, “Pines? it's me. Listen, some of the ghouls and I think that this project isn't moving forward.”

“I’m not murdeirng my friends.”

“Oh, for crying out loud!”

The barista and his gang of monsters, consisting of the Beldam, Hide-Behind, and Shapeshifter, all drag out Dipper against his will as he screams, “NO!”

As the rest of the class is eating dinner. Dipper walks down the hallway with an axe in his hand. With it, he chops down a door, stuck his face in through the hole, and shouted, “Here’s Johnny!”

He frowns when she sees that the room is empty.“Damn it!”

He chops down a second door and says, “Alex Hirsch!”

He sees Dib, who greets him, “Hi Alex, I’m Dib.”

“Damn it!”

At another door, he makes a hole and quickly says, “I'm Mike Wallace, I'm Morty Safer, and I'm Ed Bradley! All this and Andy Rooney tonight on 60 Minutes!”

This time, it was the right door. The class screams and they all run away. They go into another room and Raz quickly dials a number on her phone, “Hello, police? This is Raz Aquato! My classmate is on a murderous rampage. Over.”

On the other end was Deputy Durland, “Well, thank God that's over. I was worried there for a second.” He hangs up.

“No answer!” Raz wails. Everyone starts panicking.

Coraline calms everyone down, “Don't worry, guys. I can use my... "shiving"... to call Emmit.”

Off in a small cabin near the mansion, Emmit lies in his bed reading a book. Suddenly, he gasps, “Blue hair and her friends are in danger!” He rushes out of the shed and runs through the freezing snow, “I’m coming, kids!”

He opens the doors to the mansion, walks in and puts up his fists. “Alright screwloose, show me what you've got!” Dipper pops up right behind him and puts the axe in his back. “Ugh, is that the best you can do?...” He falls to the floor with a thud.

Lili mutters, “Damn it.”

Dipper pulls the axe out of Emmit’s corpse and drones, “Must kill friends.”

The class make their way outside into the snow, Dipper gave chase. As they walk further into the snow, it began to get deeper and harder to move. Neil falls face-first into the snow, unable to keep his balance. Wybie and Norman hoist him up and continue moving.

They’ve reached the edge of the roof, nowhere left to go. Dipper raises the axe, “Now who’s first?”

They all screamed in fear until a voice calls out, “WAIT!”

Lili holds up her phone which as full bars, “There’s WiFi!”

Dipper throws his axe to the side and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He starts frantically typing, “YES! FINALLY!”

Everyone sighed with relief and walked over to Dipper, glued to his phone. He dropped to his knees and said, “Urge to kill...fading...fading...fading...��� One bar goes out “RISING!” They back away. The phone has full bars again, and Dipper calms down. “Fading...fading...gone.”

They all sigh with relief and huddle around the bright screen of the phone.

A few seconds later, they’re all frozen together. Mabel says through her stuck face, “We’ve only been out here for a minute.”

Wybie adds, “I’m so cold!”

“This ending sucks!” Raz exclaimed.

Lili scolded him, “No breaking the fourth wall.”

Norman points out, “The battery’s almost dead.”

“Shit,” Coraline cursed.

The screen cut to black, and everyone screamed at this. Dipper says, “Urge to kill...rising...”

Wybie: The end.

Coraline: Not bad.

Mabel: I especially loved the references! Now, here’s my story.

[hailing-stars]

@febuwhump day three: imprisonment 

definitely not a lizard

Summary 

“I don’t understand why I have to be here, Mr. Stark,” said Peter, as Tony pulled the car into the school parking lot.

“Because this is entirely your fault.”

“I think entirely is a little unfair.” Peter took a glance back at Nessie, who snuggled with her pink stuffed bunny. She had gotten so big that she covered the entire front seat of the car. “I’m not the one who suggested Morgan bring her pet dinosaur for show and tell.”

“But you are the reason she has a pet dinosaur.”

“Don’t think enough blame is pinned on OsCorp for that one, actually.”

or

Peter ransacks an OsCorp lab for fun and finds Morgan a friend in the process.

OR

The origin story of the monster that lives in lake behind the Stark house.

Bits of broken glass crunched under Peter’s feet, and under his mask, he smiled, looking around at the OsCorp lab he’d just ransacked. Jameson was right. He was a menace, and it felt great.

Good, healthy destruction was soup for the soul, and nothing felt more soul-mending then laying waste to the place responsible for so much animal cruelty. After taking a few seconds to admire his handiwork, he turned to leave, but his eyes caught a cage with a small lizard locked inside.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” said Peter, striding across the lab, stepping on even more broken glass. “I’ll get you out there. Put you somewhere you can be free.”

He picked up the small cage, and Karen alerted him Tony had sent him a couple of text messages reminding him about Morgan’s birthday party, telling him to be late. That they wouldn’t be waiting for him to cut the cake.

It was a sinking realization. The remembering her birthday, and consequently, remembering he hadn’t remembered to buy her a present. Between Spider-Manning and school and friends and academic Decathlon, his life was filled with great distractions.

The lizard jumped around in the cage, and Peter got a brilliant idea. He only hoped Mr. Stark saw the genius of it.

*

Peter wasn’t late to the party, but him and the lizard were the last to arrive.

He parked his car behind Bucky’s motorcycle. He swung his door open, and unbuckled the passenger’s side seatbelt, freeing the cage from the strap keeping it safe from the bumpy ride out to the lake house.

He just hoped Ms. Lizard wasn’t too shaken up. He hoped she was ready to meet her new family.

As it turned out, her new family wasn’t quite ready to meet her. Tony’s head snapped in Peter’s direction as if he was the one with the extra sense for danger. His eyes narrowed in on the lizard cage tucked under Peter’s arm, and he marched through party guests scattered about the yard and towards him.

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s a lizard,” said Peter. He held out the cage, balancing it on the palms of his hands. “Isn’t she cool?”

“Please tell me,” said Mr. Stark, “that thing isn’t supposed to be Morgan’s present?”

Peter gasped, and moved the lizard away from him. “Mr. Stark, she isn’t a thing.”

“She’s not a present, either.”

“You and Pepper were just saying Morgan needs to learn about responsibility,” said Peter. “So really a pet is a perfect present.”

“No we weren’t,” said Tony. “We were saying you needed to learn about responsibility after you forgot to put gas in your car and we had to come save you on the side of the highway.”

“Well maybe if I had a pet lizard as a kid I’d remember to put gas in my car.”

“Oh, so it’s May’s fault?”

“No,” said Peter. “That’s not what I meant!”

Tony released a long, annoyed breath, and rubbed his temple. “Are you serious right now? With the lizard? Really couldn’t have thought of a less annoying birthday present?”

“It was sort of an impulse thing,” said Peter, and he explained to Tony about OsCorp. He explained the destruction of the animal testing lab, because he knew he would approve of that sort of inconvenience being bought upon Norman Osborn. “So you see, I couldn’t just leave her there in animal prison. She deserves a home.”

“Pete, not this home,” said Tony. “Find someone else to care for your friend, and get her out of sight before Morgan -”

An ear shattering scream filled the air. Party guests, made up of mostly old and new Avengers paused and cleared the path for Morgan Stark, who charged at them in her brand new ballet slippers.

“IS SHE MINE?”

“Uh, well -” said Peter, shuffling his feet around, feeling awful.

“I LOVE HER,” said Morgan. She put her knees in the dirt, and peered into the cage. The lizard stared back at her. “I’ve always wanted a lizard.”

“You have never once said you want a lizard,” said Tony.

“Well I didn’t know I wanted one until I had one,” she told him, with a tone that suggested it was very obvious.

Tony closed his eyes. “Fine. You may keep the stupid reptile, but you’ve both responsible for keeping it fed and the cage clean, got it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Tony walked away, and Peter popped the lid to the cage open, so Morgan could get a closer look at her new pet.

*

Two weeks passed, and Nessie no longer fit in the glass cage Peter had lifted from OsCorp. That was okay, according to Morgan, because Nessie liked sleeping at the end of her bed way more than cold, smooth glass, anyway.

According to Tony, it was a nightmare. He was terrified of the strange noises Nessie hissed at him every morning when he tried to wake Morgan up for school.

Peter sat at the kitchen table, minding his own business and eating cereal in a sleepy fog, when Tony stormed into the kitchen waving his bloody finger around.

“That’s it,” said Tony. He twisted the facet, and ran steamy water over the bite marks. “I’m calling Bruce. That thing definitely isn’t a lizard.”

“Maybe Nessie hates you because you keep calling her a thing,” said Peter, with a mouth full of cereal.

Tony grumbled and poured peroxide over his hand.

Later, Bruce showed up with a homemade DNA testing kit and a whole lot of questions.

“...you really thought it was a good idea to let Peter and Morgan keep an unknown species from OsCorp?”

“It was kind of an impulse thing,” gritted Tony, glaring at Peter, who patted Nessie’s head, distracting her from Bruce poking her scaly skin and drawing her blood.

Bruce worked fast, and it felt like hardly any time at all had passed before he was scratching his head, staring at the results in disbelief.

“I think… I think Nessie’s a dinosaur.”

“Oh great,” said Tony. “OsCorp is genetically engineering dinosaurs. Just what we need.”

“Has Norman never watched Jurassic Park?” asked Peter, with a frown. “He really should… it’s a great film.”

“Of course he’s seen Jurassic Park. He’s just too stupid not to take it’s warning and not put dangerous beasts on our planet.”

“I don’t think Nessie’s dangerous,” said Bruce. “She’s definitely from the prehistoric age, genetically, but she lacks any predatory instinct. Looks like OsCorp has successfully domesticated dinosaurs.”

“Leave it to Osborn to create completely boring dinosaurs,” said Tony. He held up his now bandaged finger. “If she’s not dangerous, why did she bite me?”

“Have you considered she just doesn’t like you?”

Tony growled, Nessie hissed more of her baby dinosaur roars, and Peter pet her, calming her down and marveling at how awesome it was to have a dinosaur running around the lake house.

“Dr. Banner,” said Peter. “If they can make dinosaurs, do you think they could engineer, like, a Pikachu?”

“A what?”

“You know, Pokemon?”

Bruce continued looking confused, and Tony continued looking like he was in great, neverending pain.

*

“I don’t understand why I have to be here, Mr. Stark,” said Peter, as Tony pulled the car into the school parking lot.

“Because this is entirely your fault.”

“I think entirely is a little unfair.” Peter took a glance back at Nessie, who snuggled with her pink stuffed bunny. She had gotten so big that she covered the entire front seat of the car. “I’m not the one who suggested Morgan bring her pet dinosaur for show and tell.”

“But you are the reason she has a pet dinosaur.”

“Don’t think enough blame is pinned on OsCorp for that one, actually.”

Tony parked the car, and grabbed Nessie’s leash from the dashboard. He managed to click it around her collar without losing an arm, or getting his hand bitten. They were working on their relationship, and in Peter’s opinion it was going pretty well, as long as Tony remembered to feed her hamburgers every once in a while.

It was a slow walk to the school’s entrance. Nessie was a faster swimmer than walker, and Peter often wondered if she wouldn’t be happier living in the lake.

“Okay,” said Tony. “You’re gonna have to carry her. I can’t take walking at this snail pace.”

“Why do I gotta carry her?”

Tony looked at Peter like he was dense. “Because I would break my back, super-genius.”

“Fine, fine,” said Peter, scooping Nessie up in his arms. She licked his face in appreciation.

They got looks from everyone who spotted them in the hallway, as they marched towards Morgan’s classroom. Once they got there, it was impossible for Morgan’s classmates to focus on anything else besides the dinosaur, so they got to start show-and-tell right away.

Peter stood next to Tony and Morgan up at the front of the class, dozens of tiny eyes staring at him. He handed the end of Nessie’s leash to Morgan, and she plopped down in front of her feet.

“This is my pet dinosaur -” started Morgan, only for Tony to cut her off with a series of loud coughs and a correction.

“Reptile,” he said. “Dinosaur’s just a family joke. They definitely don’t exist anymore.”  

“Uh, Mr. Stark,” said Mrs. Presley. “What kind of reptile is Nessie, exactly?”

“A big one,” he answered, then urged Morgan to continue.

“Nessie likes bubble baths,” she said.

Peter could tell from the look on Tony’s face that he was having flashbacks from the time he’d walked into the bathroom and saw him and Morgan with a giant bubble gun, and Nessie in the tub filled with even more bubbles, snapping her jaws at the flying ones.

“And cheeseburgers,” she continued. “My big brother Peter rescued her from that mean green guy -”

“-the pet store owner!” Peter injected. “He was, umm, wearing a green polo, and kept her in a tiny cage.”

“Yeah, they were so mean to Nessie,” said Morgan. “Always poking her with needles and keeping her locked up, but then Peter got her for me for my birthday, and now we have lots of fun, even if it stresses my dad out sometimes.”

Morgan finished her speech, and Mrs. Presley whispered to Tony, asking him if it were safe for the children to pet the creature she was still convinced was something more than a reptile. He nodded. The children lined up, and after they each had a turn, Tony and Peter left with Nessie, once again, locked in Peter’s arms.

“I think it went well,” said Peter, once they were in the car. In the backseat, Nessie took a bite out of her pink bunny. “Maybe we should stop for burgers on the way home.”

*

Eventually, Nessie moved out of the house.

It happened over time, as she grew larger and larger, and became way too big to sleep on the end of Morgan’s bed. She grew so massive, Morgan understood it’d be cruel to keep her locked up in the house, especially when they had a perfectly good lake in the backyard.

So the lake became Nessie’s home, but it wasn’t like she didn’t come back to visit. She showed up, emerging from the lake to scare the hell out of Happy, on the occasions of family barbecue, enticed by the smells coming off the grill.

She showed up for Morgan on summer days, when her and Peter swam in the lake despite Tony’s concerns about flesh eating bacteria.

“You worry too much, Mr. Stark,” Peter would tell him.

And Tony would tell him that was impossible. It was a parent’s job to worry, and it would never quite be enough.

When the house got quiet, when Morgan aged out of the part of her life when her family was her entire world, and when Peter became busy with college and Spider-Man nonsense, Tony worried more.

Some nights he found himself wandering outside, firing up the grill, and throwing a few burgers for himself, and for Nessie, who could always be counted on to rise up out of the lake for a good burger.

As the sun set, casting an orangish glow over the lake,  he threw a burger out to Nessie and she ate with a snap of her jaw.

“You know,” Tony told her. “You’re not half bad, Ness.”

She walked towards him, and before Tony could react, licked him. Her giant, reptile tongue left dinosaur slavia and small bits of hamburger on his face and clothes.

“Really,” he said. “Just when we were starting to get along.”

Nessie put her head to the sky, and roared at the disappearing sun. Tony could only hope the neighbors wouldn’t hear her.

[the-shelfish-reader]

SHOT IN THE HEART

By Mikal Gilmore

© 1994; 403 pg; Doubleday

(Back row: Frank Sr. and Bessie Gilmore, Front row: Frank Jr., Gary, and Gaylen)

In 1977, a career criminal with a long record, who had been sentenced to death in Utah for two counts of capital murder, made international headlines. His name was Gary Gilmore. He was 36 years old. There hadn’t been an execution in America for nearly ten years. Utah was and is, of course, the nearest thing to a theocratic state in the U.S., heavily influenced by the LDS church in all matters relating to crime and punishment. It was the territory whose Mormon-dominated legislature, in 1857, drafted a criminal code that provided for death by hanging or firing squad in the cases of convicted first-degree murderers. The latter method also satisfied the early Mormon covenant, conceived by Joseph Smith himself, of “Blood Atonement.” Simply put, if one took a life, one must shed one’s own blood into the earth as an apology to God in order to have any chance at salvation. Early LDS history is rife with bloody, violent murders for crimes ranging from apostasy to rape to horse-theft. There are accounts of men murdered simply because they were perceived as an enemy to the LDS Church.

Gary became a celebrity due to his rejection of all appeals and reviews of his sentence. He demanded the State of Utah proceed with his death, by firing squad, as swiftly as possible. In the sociopolitical climate in America at the time, which hadn’t seen an execution in ten years, Gary’s demands were unthinkable. He was convicted in early October and was executed in January, and his last words, according to Mikal, were, “There will always be a father.” According to other sources, his last words were, “Let’s do this.” I think he probably said both. In any event, his execution-style murder of a Salt Lake City motel manager, followed by a similar shooting of an unarmed gas station attendant, were most definitely done in cold blood. At the time of the murders, he was out of prison on parole.

This is Gary Gilmore’s story. More broadly, it is the entire Gilmore family’s story, told by his youngest brother, nearly 20 years after Gary’s famous death. It’s even more interesting to me personally, as a true-crime enthusiast, because I knew Mikal Gilmore’s writing very well through Rolling Stone magazine. He was a staff writer there for a long time; I had a subscription for the same long time. His pieces were always really great reads, no matter the subject. I never associated his last name with that of Gary Gilmore, celebrated dead murderer, whom I had read about when I was a teenager. When this book was published, I was shocked the two vastly different Gilmores were, in fact, BROTHERS, and I ABSOLUTELY had to know how this was possible.

I should note that the famous author Norman Mailer wrote his own book about Gary Gilmore, which provided Mikal with information about his family—a family whose background was shrouded in secrets. THE EXECUTIONER’S SONG was published in 1979, and a few years later, it was turned into a TV movie of the same name. Gary was played by Tommy Lee Jones. Mikal says he saw no trace of the Gary he knew in Jones’s performance; then again, Mikal states multiple times that he didn’t really know Gary at all. More importantly, in an effort to avoid the family “curse,” Mikal had maintained a detachment from the story of his family that didn’t resolve until Mailer’s book was published. He was unaware of much (maybe even most) of his family history beyond the fact that he had a mother and a father. I think maybe Mikal didn’t want to know. But Larry Schiller (a producer on the movie) and Mailer made the tapes of all their interviews with Bessie Gilmore, Mikal’s mother, available to Mikal, and that’s when he learned the details of the family’s exploits in the years before his birth in 1951.

Gary on death row, 1976

Mikal (born Michael, changed in high school) Gilmore is an hugely talented writer who tells Gary’s story with sensitivity, love, and a massive, undeserved amount of guilt. The depth of sadness, shame, and abuse this family of “black sheep” had always suffered is almost unbearable to read. I felt Mikal’s grief and empathy for all his subjects, no matter how much they terrified or confused him. It’s unsurprising he had to struggle to make sense of all the turbulence within that group of damaged people he knew as his family in order to overcome their awful destiny. In writing this meticulously researched book, he attempts specifically to pinpoint the exact moment it all started to go so horribly wrong for his parents and his brothers. An impossible task, as it turned out.

More than just a personal story, this book is about a certain subset of Americans who have always existed: their economic prospects grim, their interpersonal relationships bleak, plagued by alcohol abuse and physical abuse, always known to the law, shunned by “polite” society and even elder generations of their own families. The Gilmores’ family history is a tale of two such societal outcasts who had the misfortune of meeting and marrying and procreating, inflicting grave emotional, spiritual, and physical damage on each other, and, most painfully, on their children.

Frank and Bessie Gilmore had four children: Frank, Jr., Gary, Gaylen, and, nearly ten years later, Mikal. Frank was a drifter and small-time criminal; Bessie a young Mormon woman dissatisfied with her life as one of nine children on a small farm in Provo. Frank was in his forties, and, unbeknownst to his new bride, had been married six or seven times and had a child or two whom he then abandoned; Bessie was barely out of her teens. He was an ad salesman for Utah Magazine, and he traveled through the southwestern United States as the result. Together they logged hundreds of miles traveling the back roads of Utah, Arizona, California, Nevada…and once the children began arriving, they too were packed in the back of the station wagons Frank preferred and taken along. These weren’t pleasant trips. Frank and Bessie fought, screamed, threatened, and hit each other for the majority of time spent on the road, while the children cowered in the back.

By that time, Frank was pulling a con on advertisers. He’d secure payment in advance for an ad to be run in the magazine, then abscond with the money. It was the family’s main income in those early years, but it also came with fear of the ever-present law enforcement threat. Sometimes, the perceived threat was directly from the person robbed. In those days of lynchings and mob mentality, one can understand the fear this family felt, which permeated right down into the children’s lives. It was no way to live. For anybody.

In 1941, when Bessie was pregnant with Gary, they were in Selma, Alabama, on an unknown “job” Frank had to do. She was over eight months along, and the plan had been for them to make their way back to Sacramento, where Frank’s mother lived, to have the baby. Frank’s Alabama activities dragged on so long that, as they were driving west through Texas, Bessie went into labor. They stopped in the next town with a hospital, McCamey, Texas—an oil boom town in the western part of the state. There Gary was born. However, Frank gave assumed names at check-in, and he named the baby before Bessie had recovered from the anesthesia given out routinely in those days. Hence, Gary Mark Gilmore was born Faye Robert Coffman. Once they had left the state, Frank took Gary’s birth certificate, tore it into little pieces, and said it was over and they could name him whatever they wanted. (That is the story Bessie told Mailer, but she kept a copy, which Gary found twenty years later. He accused her of having an affair with someone named Coffman—a frequent alias used by his father, but Bessie never explained, and Gary never spoke of it again).

The theme of destroying “official” things like marriage licenses and birth certificates, then making up events, names, and occurrences to suit their own needs in the moment recurs so often in this story, it becomes the Gilmore ethos. I suppose these small acts of destroying records were a rebellion against authority. Sudden departures, without warning, and without any promise of return, happened again and again. Once, memorably, Frank, Bessie, toddler Frank, and infant Gary were driving through northern Missouri when Bessie talked Frank into stopping at a gas station. She needed to change Frankie’s diaper and stretch her legs. When she and Frankie emerged from the bathroom, Frank Sr., baby Gary, and the station wagon were gone. She waited until nightfall, but Frank didn’t return. The gas station attendant locked up for the night and asked Bessie if he could take her to a nearby town that had a hotel and a bus station. Bessie wired her parents in Provo for the bus fare to come back to Utah. This had to be an extra-humiliating experience for her, because she knew her parents disliked Frank and didn’t approve of her marriage to a Gentile so much older than she, not to mention the rootlessness and unforeseen disappearances of this man they distrusted. Several days after arriving in Provo, she got a telephone call from an orphanage in Des Moines—they had Gary. They informed her Gary’s father had been arrested and jailed on a charge of passing a bad check; hence baby Gary was brought to them. Bessie again borrowed money from her parents, took Frankie, and went to Iowa. There she reunited with Gary, found a job as a housekeeper in return for room and board, and waited for Frank to get out of jail. This was the sort of everyday chaos the Gilmores lived in throughout the forties.

Eventually, Frank Sr. went legit, creating his own Building Codes Digest for Portland, Oregon. He compiled all the city building codes in an easy-to-reference handbook, with advertising space for interested buyers. It was a success, they bought a house in Portland, and by 1951, when Mikal was born, they were living comfortably. However, Frank and Bessie’s violence continued to erupt, as dependable as the sunrise. Frank beat his wife regularly. She bore the marks—black eyes, lumps on her face, bruises on her arms and neck. As soon as any of the children grew old enough to defy Frank, they too became recipients of regular beatings. Nobody provoked Frank as much as Gary did, and consequently, he bore more than his share of the daily household violence. Gary was beaten repeatedly by his father. No one intervened, and Bessie never tried to take the children away, never tried to leave this man of secret sorrows and rage, for the same reasons women stay in abusive relationships to this day.

Their last son before Mikal was Gaylen. His fate would be to live a life of petty crime, much like brother Gary. Gaylen would die at 27, in 1971, home in Portland, Oregon from a lengthy stay in Chicago. Portland was where the family finally settled permanently, with Frank making trips to Seattle for the new handbook he’d created of that city’s building codes. Mikal was a student at Portland State, living in an apartment downtown. He only knew what his mother told him: that Gaylen had returned, that he wasn’t well, he’d had a stomach problem and undergone surgery in Chicago, but he was “not himself.” Mikal didn’t know the truth of the circumstances of Gaylen’s death until after Gary’s execution and Mailer’s book, and to this day, he still doesn’tknow the details because Bessie would never tell him. He states, “This much I do know: Gaylen got stabbed in Chicago. Horribly, viciously and repeatedly.” His wounds never healed, and he died of what was apparently sepsis, in the hospital, after another surgery. The why of his stabbing will never be known, and isn’t important. I think it’s notable that in this family, two of its sons would meet violent death by different means. Can this be attributed to the history of violent crime, both hidden and known, that ran through both the father and the mother that somehow combined in the sons to predispose them to terrible deaths?

Mikal believes this to be true. A cursed family legacy. You can feel the pain in his words. When I originally bought and read this book upon its release in 1994, I had no way of learning whether or not Mikal ever came to terms with his family’s past. It was clear that by the time he’d finished this book, he had not. But time does heal, and I have always wished him the best possible emotional reconciliation with the causes of his nightmares (invariably, terrifying dreams starring one or more family members). I’ve researched him now, in 2021, and I’m delighted to see that he’s married to an accomplished woman, and they have at least one child, a beautiful boy. Mikal battled throat cancer caused by HPV recently, and he seems extremely grateful he survived not just the cancer, but the attendant therapies that follow such a diagnosis. I’m grateful he survived his family of origin, and I’m immensely cheered that he seems to be leading a happy life.

It’s hard to describe the level of Gary Gilmore’s fame (or infamy) at the time of his fight to die. He was on the cover of every American newsmagazine at least once. European newspapers covered the story with breathless anticipation. In America, I saw his face on the nightly news so often, I still remembered it in 1994 when I first read this book. There is even a punk rock song by a band from the U.K., The Adverts, who released a song about him, or more accurately, about how it would feel to see the world through his eyes:

Frank Sr. died in 1962 at age 72 when Mikal was 11. It’s maybe not so remarkable that the son born later, after the family’s nomadic days were over, would be the one son who would escape the family dynamic and find success in his chosen field. And for Mikal, that field was rock and roll music. His brothers had grown up on Elvis and Johnny Cash, but Mikal fell in love with The Beatles and Bob Dylan. Reading and music became his outlets, and he’d wait out the various, constant arguments and fights going on around him at home, hiding in a corner, reading his books and waiting out the storm.

I find it remarkable that the first child born to the Gilmores, Frank Jr., didn’t live a life of crime and its inevitable punishment. Frank Jr. was soft-spoken, even-tempered, and shy. He was prone to bouts of depression—not a great surprise. And he became an observant Jehovah’s Witness in his young adulthood. He had been drafted into the Army during Vietnam, but his application for conscientious objector status was denied. He was discharged, having spent two years in Fort Leavenworth for refusing to handle a weapon, and without ever having left the country. After Gary’s execution, Bessie’s death, and Gaylen’s horrible, protracted death, Mikal and Frank became closer than ever before. There was a 12-year age gap between them, and the lives their parents had forced them to live didn’t allow for much brotherly intimacy. They took trips to Utah together, visiting their mother’s family and even the scenes of both murders Gary had committed. Frank’s crystal-clear memory was as informative as Mailer’s books and interview tapes, and the clouds that had surrounded many defining events of their shared history cleared for Mikal.

I found the following quote to be an informed perspective on the way all devout Mormons think of generational sins. No doubt Bessie was made to study this text as a standard part of growing up Mormon in early 20th century America:

“The single strongest instance of blasphemy in the Book of Mormon occurs when a charismatic atheist and Antichrist named Korihor stands before one of God’s judges and kings and proclaims: ‘Ye say that this people is a guilty and fallen people, because of a transgression of a parent. Behold, I say that a child is not guilty because of its parents.’ For proclaiming such outrageous words, God strikes Korihor mute…[he] is left to wander among the people of the nation…and the people take him and stamp upon him, until he lies dead under their feet.”

The Bible is a mass of contradictions about this subject. One can find verses supporting the idea of generational sins, and others that echo the words of Korihor in the Book of Mormon.

It’s a sad story. Very sad. I believe that the best gift Mikal could have given his father, mother, and brothers was to succeed in whatever he chose to do. He was the family’s first member to attend college (on a scholarship), and certainly its first to make a name for himself. That he did so in journalism strikes me as miraculous. Bessie would have been so relieved that, in his case, the sins of the father would not be counted against the child.

[archinform]

Lost Chicago Building 5 - The Pullman Building

Life Span: 1884-1958 Location: 79 E. Adams – Southwest corner of Michigan & Adams Architect: Solon S. Beman

Illustrations, unless otherwise noted, are from the Ryerson and Burnham Art and Architecture Archive, Art Institute of Chicago. Accessed at: http://www.artic.edu/research/archival-collections

May 6, 1883 – The Chicago Daily Tribune reports that the excavation for the nine-story headquarters of the Pullman Palace-Car Company on the southwest corner of Michigan Avenue and Adams Street has begun.  As the Home Insurance Building on La Salle Street is nearing completion – arguably the first metal-framed commercial skyscraper in history – the Pullman building will be “perfectly fireproof from cellar to garret – fireproof tile and iron beams being used throughout.”  [Chicago Daily Tribune, May 6, 1883] The structure will have a dual purpose.  The Pullman headquarters will have an entrance on Adams Street while a number of apartments in the building will be entered through the Michigan Avenue entrance.  Company offices will occupy the first four floors of the building, and speculation is that the fifth floor will be given to the offices of General Phillip Sheridan.  The five upper floors will be devoted to apartments of from seven to ten rooms and a number of bachelors’ suites from two to four rooms.  The ninth floor will have a restaurant overlooking the lake with “a large covered promenade … making it a delightful resort in warm weather.”  The half-million-dollar building will have its boilers located in a separate structure, given “the prejudice against living in a building with large steam boilers in the basement.”  The Tribune assessment of the building concludes, “One of the objects sought by Mr. Pullman … was the furnishing to those employés of the company who desired them living apartments of superior character more convenient to their business than those in which many of them now abide … Mr. Pullman has expressed a wish that such a structure might be erected for their benefit.” [1]

Solon Spencer Beman, Architect (1853-1914)

“Chicago Pullman building. Design Preliminary sketch;” inscribed “BLC: J.K.P. del.;BRC: S S Beman / Architect .”

https://drloihjournal.blogspot.com/2020/04/pullman-building-at-michigan-and-adams-tip-top-inn-and-black-cat-inn-restaurants-chicago.html

Sanborn Map (detail), c. 1890; location of Pullman Building shaded purple.

“Michigan Avenue South from Grant Park Promenade,” postcard. Pullman Building is in the center of the view.

George Pullman (1831-1897), whose company by 1879 was the largest manufacturer of railway sleeping cars, with his Pullman Palace Cars being used by many railroads all throughout the country, wanted to construct a new factory town to bring together all the company’s manufacturing operations. The new “company town” would also house all of his workers.  In 1879 Pullman brought New York landscape architect Nathan F. Barrett to Chicago to develop the concept. Barrett had introduced Pullman to Solon Spenser Beman, a twenty-six year old architect, also from New York, who had apprenticed with Richard Upjohn before starting his own firm in 1877. Pullman placed Beman in charge of the entire architectural design and construction of the buildings for new town. [2]

Nathan F. Barrett and Solon Spenser Beman, Town of Pullman, 1879  (Zukowsky, Growth of a Metropolis) Reproduced in Larson, Gerald R., “ 7.8. George Pullman Brings S.S. Beman to Chicago,” The Architecture Professor. https://thearchitectureprofessor.com/2020/09/23/7-8-george-pullman-brings-s-s-beman-to-chicago/

George Mortimer Pullman (1831-1897). Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Pullman

The former Pullman headquarters building in downtown Chicago at the northeast corner of Michigan and Randolph had been destroyed in the Great Fire of 1871, and the sleeping-car magnate obtained a permit to build a new 9-story building at the southeast corner of Michigan Avenue and Adams Street. Beman would design the building. The new Art Institute of Chicago building (1893) would later be directly across Michigan Avenue.

The Pullman Building viewed from the Art Institute, c. 1890s.

Beman’s design for the Pullman Building was influenced by the Romanesque style of architect Henry Hobson Richardson, which was sweeping the country in the late 1880s. Constructed of red granite, brick, and terra cotta at the corner of Adams and Michigan, the Pullman Building was a “massive and imposing” structure of 10 stories with corner turrets and a light well. The Chicago Tribune described its design as modification of the Norman round arched gothic, “the main object being to give it an expression of dignified elegance in its simple massiveness.” In common with other buildings built after the Great Fire of 1871, the Pullman Building was advertised as absolutely fireproof.

Excavation for the building foundations began in May 1883. Similar to other buildings of the Chicago School of architecture, iron beams and joists were used throughout the building. Stairways were also of iron; the building had four passenger elevators and a freight elevator, and was lit by both gas and electric light.

Construction was delayed by a strike by the Bricklayers’ Union, who decided that the fifty or so tile-layers working on the tile floors and other interior work should demand $4.00 per day rather than the $3.50 they were receiving. Non-union workers were brought in, and construction continued.

The Pullman Building was designed for multiple use: the first floor for stores dealing in light merchandise, the second and third floors for Pullman offices, the fourth and fifth floors for Army Headquarters of the Division of the Missouri and for telephone company offices; Chicago Telephone Company and Central Union Telephone Company are noted in the floor plans. The sixth floor was for general office space. Solon S. Beman’s architectural offices were located on the fifth floor.

The seventh through ninth floors were reserved for residence suites of various sizes, with private bathroom and hot and cold water for each. These suites are intended for those who wished to avoid the trouble of housekeeping. No cooking was allowed, however, provisions were made, however, for a restaurant on the ninth floor, with the kitchen and servants quarters on the tenth floor.[3]

Michigan Avenue residential entrance

side views on Michigan Avenue

Separate entrances for the offices and residences of the building announced its dual purpose: offices could be entered from Adams Street and residential apartments from Michigan Avenue. A light well in the building’s north side was open above a glass roof at the third story, giving the building a U shape.

 Pullman executives occupied the lower floors. Other well-known building tenants included utilities magnate Samuel Insull, Allen B. and Irving K. Pond, brothers in architectural practice (Irving K. Pond worked in S. S. Beman’s offices), S. C. Pirie, of the Carson, Pirie, Scott & Company department store in Chicago; H.E. Hooper, US publisher of the Encyclopedia Britannica; and Florenz Ziegfeld, later renowned for the Ziegfeld Follies.

Adams Street entrance

Pullman Building, detail of arcade, north side, by photographer J.W. Taylor. Courtesy of the Faculty of Architecture, University of Melbourne. The Pullman History Site https://pullman-museum.org/theCompany/pullmanBuilding.html

The building’s business entrance on its north (Adams Street) side was through an imposing masonry arch springing from squat columns with stylized Corinthian capitals. A divided staircase of stone rose one story to the second floor, offering entry at its base to the first story and, through the central of three arches at the second story, to the business office area. This striking entry occupied the central light court in the U of the building, and was surmounted by a glass canopy at the third story. Rather heavy-handed and muscular in its effect, this sheltered entrance was more “public” than the building’s residential entrance, flush with the wall on the Michigan Avenue side.

Above this entrance, in the center upper stories of the building, were a vertical arrangement of semicircular windows framed in rather bizarre, interlocking horseshoe or keyhole arches. The composition’s sense of vertical movement contrasted with the horizontal bands of window openings in the rest of the building.

Pullman Entrance; J.W. Taylor photograph, 1893. Chicagology. https://chicagology.com/goldenage/goldenage067/

Arch and covered entry stairs

The Pullman History Site https://pullman-museum.org/theCompany/pullmanBuilding.html

Pullman Building, interior detail of 2nd floor entrance and open wells looking toward Office of the President (see 2d floor floorplan) by photographer J.W. Taylor. Courtesy of the Faculty of Architecture, University of Melbourne. The Pullman History Site https://pullman-museum.org/theCompany/pullmanBuilding.html

Pullman  Building, President’s Office, Secretary by fireplace,1956. Chuckman Chicago Nostalgia. https://chuckmanchicagonostalgia.wordpress.com/2011/11/page/2/

Selected floors plans, from The Pullman History Site at https://pullman-museum.org/theCompany/pullmanBuilding.html

First (entrance) Story

Second Story: vestibule from Adams stairs; President’s Office (see photos above)

Seventh & Eighth Stories; Apartments

Ninth Story: Apartments and Restaurant

The Tip Top Inn was on the ninth floor of the Pullman Building.

For the first few years the Pullman company ran its own restaurant, The Albion, on the 9th floor. It was considered advanced at the time to locate restaurants on top floors so that cooking odors would not drift throughout the building. In addition, diners at The Albion, and later the Tip Top Inn, had excellent views of Lake Michigan. [4]

The Pullman Company, after the death of George Pullman in 1897, remained in the Pullman Building until 1948, after which its offices were moved to Chicago’s Merchandise Mart. By that time, all the architectural features of the upper story-- the turrets, towers, and chimneys-- were gone.

In “A Proud Old Lady Admits Her Age,” a 1956 newspaper article noted that

The Pullman Building, Chicago’s oldest “skyscraper,” is facing the wrecker with the same cumbersome dignity which characterized its 72 year history. With its carpets, curtains, and other makeup gone it looks a little shabby, but is still in essentially the same form bestowed on it by architect S.S. Beman back in 1884. It has yielded little to the blandishment of technology and fashion.[5]

The Pullman Building itself was demolished during a razing craze during the tenure of Mayor Richard J. Daley, along with dozens more buildings in Chicago’s Loop and thousands in Chicago neighborhoods with hardly a peep of protest. The Pullman Building was replaced in 1958 with the Borg-Warner Building, an ugly anomaly among the Michigan Avenue cliffs in the Michigan Avenue Landmark District. [6]

  In later years, the turrets and top portion of the building were removed.

Architectural fragment, Pullman Building, Art Institute of Chicago.

Pullman Building, Andreas’ History of Chicago. Image: https://chicagology.com/goldenage/goldenage067/

Many of the images used here are also available on the Illinois Digital Archives website at http://www.idaillinois.org/digital/search/searchterm/Pullman%20Building

NOTES:

[1] Connecting the Windy City. Accessed at:  http://www.connectingthewindycity.com/search/label/Congress%20Street

[2] Larson, Gerald R., “George Pullman Brings S.S. Beman to Chicago,” The Chicago School of Architecture. Accessed at: https://thearchitectureprofessor.com/2020/09/23/7-8-george-pullman-brings-s-s-beman-to-chicago/

[3] Chicagology. https://chicagology.com/goldenage/goldenage067/

[4] “Famous in its Day: Tip Top Inn,” Restaurant-ing Through History. Accessed at: https://restaurant-ingthroughhistory.com/2014/03/30/famous-in-its-day-tip-top-inn/

See also Digital Research Library of Illinois History Journal at   https://drloihjournal.blogspot.com/2020/04/pullman-building-at-michigan-and-adams-tip-top-inn-and-black-cat-inn-restaurants-chicago.html

[5] “A Proud Old Lady Admits Her Age,” Copy from two undated, unidentified newspaper articles about the 1884 Pullman Building in downtown Chicago. View the article at http://www.idaillinois.org/digital/collection/pshs/id/15324

[6] “The Pullman Building,” The Pullman History Site. Accessed at: https://pullman-museum.org/theCompany/pullmanBuilding.html

[sylvandalism]

Here’s a rough playlist for driving through California at the end of the decade. California through the eyes of a transplant, giddy with a gauche joy; California burning, vivid in its early autumnal glory, on the verge of climate collapse; California on a sultry, dusty ride that brought us to Tahoe, blue beyond belief.

It’s hard to explain the contradictions that arise when you haven’t lived in a place for very long. You’re overwhelmed by its sharp and cruel beauty- you’re a ridiculous transplant, who hasn’t earned the right to call it home quite yet and is prone to exaggeration and superlatives. I’m not sure when we earn the right to stamp a mark of authenticity to our descriptions. Years of living through droughts and failed rent control measures, where we were when that earthquake hit. It’s overwhelming thinking about what growing up in an entirely different place looks like and who you’d be as a result of that upbringing. Having deep rooted ties to an area, knowing the backroads and when they’re safe to drive in the winter or spring. Is the cost of that knowledge the right to call a place home? A few years ago, I could dredge up some theories on place and belonging, tack on some poetic words to talk about why I feel so awed by this land. Now I just drive and gawk and listen to someone else talk about their feelings.

I hoard feelings about places like antique coins. During conversations, someone mentions growing up in Renton and I run to the map and pore over its proximity to other cities. A suburb of Seattle, home to several large industries. Smyrna, Georgia is the childhood home of Julia Roberts. Penzey’s Spices started in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I asked my colleague once what it was like growing up in a small town in Wisconsin and she seemed startled, a little confused at what I was looking for. “What do you mean? It was normal. Just like growing up in any other place.” I’m not sure what I wanted to hear either: maybe I wanted the quaint details, the facts of living that are normal to us but not to others who haven’t lived in the same place for their entire lives. I knew it was more complicated than town mouse asking for details about provincial living from country mouse. Maybe it’s a sense of belonging that I’m on the prowl for, so I can experience it vicariously for a short amount of time. A Yankee Candle of belonging that I can sniff and for a brief second, jump into someone else’s place, clad in plaid and all. But of course it’s only ever temporary- I’m not foolish enough to think that a few descriptions can sum up an entire lifetime's worth of belonging.

In retrospect, Steinbeck’s East of Eden, so dry at first, now seems like a worthy endeavor. He wanted to do justice to the area he grew up in: he wanted it to attain legendary status, perhaps the most benevolent attitude we can have to our homes. On our way down to the coast, we stopped in Salinas because I was excited to see Steinbeck’s town. We parked in front of a Denny’s across the street from a gas station. The air was murky with smoke and smelled faintly of manure. We hopped back in and continued our drive down the coast to Monterey and then on to San Diego.

I can’t remember where I read this but I recall Louise Gluck not being able to write until she began working again at a college in Vermont. I feel most alive when I’m moving, traveling from place to place, soaking up everything I can. I go out of my way to talk to people, especially locals, when they’re willing to talk to out of towners. My favorite question is asking them how the area has changed over the years- it usually develops into an impassioned conversation and an indictment of the political landscape. I let them ramble on about the hideous traffic, the failing public schools, the housing crisis, their favorite clam chowder spot. On a boat in Lake Tahoe, I struck up a conversation with the captain. He seemed startled when I asked him about the hazy horizon and then he relaxed and pointed out how the wind had shifted, bringing the smoke downwards from the fires north of the lake. The boat soon docked, since visibility was steadily decreasing. The captain wrapped up our conversation and wished me well on our journey back to the Bay.

There is something about living in a place that’s been dreamt of and written about so frequently. But as our favorite ultra dramatic, overexposed prom queen of California sums up: “So I moved to California, but it's just a state of mind It turns out everywhere you go, you take yourself, that's not a lie.” We listened to Norman Fucking Rockwell on our way to LA, because it’s such a delicious cliche and I wanted to revel in my tinted sunglasses. From Tahoe to the Bay, as we passed burned forests and ashened roads, we listened to Vampire Weekend. In San Diego, we drove back and forth from the hospital and clinics with Imploding the Mirage playing on in the background.

[naplesgolfguy]

OPEN HOUSE TODAY - Sunday, April 16th, 1-4 PM

Stop by our Open House in Talis Park to see the neighborhood's newest and best-priced Corscia home!

3 Beds + Den | 3 Baths | 2,532 sq. ft.

New to the Market, this Talis Park Corsica Home is a 1st-floor "Messina" Model that lives like a single-family home. BRIGHT and LIGHT, this Southern exposure home overlooks a serene lake on one of THE BEST LOTS in Corsica.

Move right into this spacious 2023 coach home that was just completed and features high ceilings and is LOADED WITH UPGRADES, including engineered hardwood floors and tile throughout as well as custom lighting. An ADDITIONAL DEN offers plenty of space for an office or home gym.

A CHEF's DREAM KITCHEN with a Gas stove, oversized kitchen island, extended upper kitchen cabinets, built-in fridge, wine cooler, and walk-in pantry is at the heart of this open floor plan concept.

The lanai includes an OUTDOOR KITCHEN and GAS GRILL!

Talis Park's AWARD WINNING golf course was designed by Greg Norman and Pete Dye. In addition to golf, those with a golf membership will enjoy world-class practice facilities, including a full grass driving range, chipping and putting area.

All residents have access to multiple dining options, clubhouse, Har-Tru tennis courts, Pickleball courts, bocce ball, fitness center, full-service spa, basketball court, dog park, walking trails, and private beach shuttle to Vanderbilt Beach.

Call us today for a private tour at 239.370.0892.

Matt Klinowski aka Naples Golf Guy | Downing Frye Realty

Here's to living the good life in paradise, Matt

[tabloidtoc]

Us, April 20

Cover: Secrets of Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes’ amazing love story 

Page 4: Who Wore It Best? Zara Larsson 83% vs. Lake Bell 17%, Harley Viera-Newton 37% vs. Lupita Nyong’o 63%, Joan Smalls 67% vs. Camila Morrone 33% 

Page 8: Loose Talk -- Ryan Reynolds, Rachel Bilson on Adam Brody, Rihanna, Kim Kardashian, Dax Shepard 

Page 10: Contents

Page 14: Hot Pics -- United We Sing --stars come together for ACM Presents: Our Country -- Carrie Underwood, Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani, Little Big Town, Brad Paisley, Kelsea Ballerini 

Page 15: John Legend, Miranda Lambert, Sheryl Crow, Keith Urban 

Page 16: Modern Family -- the close cast reflect on their amazing 11-season run -- Sofia Vergara, Aubrey Anderson-Emmons, Eric Stonestreet, Ariel Winter 

Page 17: Nolan Gould, Ed O’Neill 

Page 18: Sarah Hyland, Julie Bowen, Ty Burell 

Page 19: Rico Rodriguez, Jeremy Maguire, Reid Ewing, Jesse Tyler Ferguson 

Page 20: Arnold Schwarzenegger, Serena Williams shooting a Secret deodorant commercial, Hailey Bieber and Justin Bieber kissing 

Page 21: Kelly Bensimon in a pool, Kate Hudson on a walk around her neighborhood, Jane Fonda does her iconic ‘80s fitness routine on TikTok 

Page 22: Trailblazers -- celebs take a hike -- Laura Dern and Reese Witherspoon flip the switch, Brandi Cyrus and her dog Astra, Zac Efron rock-climbing, Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Ellen DeGeneres 

Page 24: Stars They’re Just Like Us -- Norman Reedus and Diane Kruger go shopping, Shia Labeouf takes out the trash, Rebecca Black pumps her own gas 

Page 25: Brian Austin Green gets food to-go, Amber Heard spring-cleans 

Page 26: Cute Canines -- Kourtney Kardashian and daughter Penelope Disick’s dog Honey, Busy Philipps and her new dog Gina Linetti, Tim Tebow and Demi-Leigh Nel-Peters’ new dogs Paris and Kobe and Chunk, Katherine Schwarzenegger and her dog Maverick, Lili Reinhart and Milo, Wells Adams jogging with Carl 

Page 28: Love Lives -- Ben Affleck has gotten the stamp of approval from girlfriend Ana de Armas’ pals 

Page 29: Kody Brown of Sister Wives and one of his four wives Christine celebrate 26 years together, keeping a low profile seems to be working for Tobey Maguire and Tatiana Dieteman who are living together, Derek Hough and Hayley Erbert are pros at at-home date nights 

Page 30: Hollywood Moms -- Kendra Wilkinson on kids Alijah and Hank 

Page 31: Yael Braun who’s married to Scooter Braun is working to fight gender stereotypes in her own household with kids Jagger and Levi and Hart, Erika Christensen wants her kids Shane and Polly to grow up to be the good guys, Hilaria Baldwin and Alec Baldwin are expecting another baby 

Page 32: Hot Hollywood -- A new dismissal motion filed by another defendant in the college admissions cheating scandal may benefit Lori Loughlin 

Page 33: Christina Anstead’s self-renovation, Channing Tatum and Jessie J have split again 

Page 34: A Day in the Life -- Brooke Shields 

Page 35: Stars Give Us Reason To Smile During These Trying Times -- Jennifer Aniston, Leonardo DiCaprio, Henry Golding fostering a pup Stella, Kris Jenner and Kylie Jenner, Craig Conover 

Page 36: Cover Story -- Eva Mendes and Ryan Gosling -- inside their private world 

Page 39: These Couples Also Like to Keep Things Private -- Cameron Diaz and Benji Madden, Emily Ratajkowski and Sebastian Bear-McClard, Ed Sheeran and Cherry Seaborn, Jennifer Lawrence and Cooke Maroney, Emma Stone and Dave McCary

Page 40: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle California Dreamin’ -- as the controversial couple get settled in LA Harry sets his sights on fame and fortune 

Page 42: Countdown to Baby -- Jodie Turner-Smith and Joshua Jackson, Sophie Turner and Joe Jonas, Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Justin Mikita 

Page 43: Katy Perry and Orlando Bloom, Ciara and Russell Wilson, Chloe Sevigny and Sinisa Mackovic, Michelle Williams and Thomas Kail 

Page 44: Inside My Kitchen -- Garcelle Beauvais of RHOBH 

Page 46: It Is Easy Being Green -- take a cue from these eco-conscious stars and be kind to Mother Earth -- grow your own food like Jennifer Garner and Tiffany Haddish, shop sustainable like Emma Watson and Rosario Dawson 

Page 47: Work for water like Dove Cameron and Mark Ruffalo, rally against climate change like Greta Thunberg and Leonardo DiCaprio 

Page 50: Style -- April showers solved -- Christina Milian

Page 51: Renee Zellweger, Bella Hadid 

Page 52: Twins Nikki Bella and Brie Bella open up about pregnancy, marriage and more 

Page 54: Take Five with Declan Laird 

Page 55: Maddie Marlow and Tae Dye of Maddie & Tae on their second album 

Page 58: Fashion Police -- Suki Waterhouse, Melina Matsoukas, Laverne Cox 

Page 59: Gwyneth Paltrow, Julia Fox, Halsey 

Page 60: 25 Things You Don’t Know About Me -- Sean Hayes 

[abductionradiation]

Kevin Krauter’s new album Full Hand is out February 28 via Bayonet Records and the final pre-release single he’s sharing is “Opportunity”. The song comes just above 3.5 minutes long and there’s a lushness to this track that makes it feel so full. From the drum machine to the layers of synth, “Opportunity” is a stacked track with twinkles of the keyboard. The song is deeply reflective, written a couple years ago when Krauter decided to pursue music full time. There’s a lot of flow to this song that feels almost like a stream of conscious - dreamy yet contemplative. 

Tour Dates: Thu. March 12 - St. Louis, MO @ Blueberry Hill Duck Room * Fri. March 13 - Springfield, MO @ Front of House * Sat. March 14 - Norman, OK @ The Opolis * Mon. March 16 - Fri. March 20 - Austin, TX @ SXSW Sat. March 21 - Dallas, TX @ Club Dada (Not So Fun Weekend) * Sun. March 22 - Hot Springs, AR @ Low Key Arts Thu. April 2 - Bloomington, IN @ The Bishop Fri. April 3 - Louisville, KY @ Zanzabar Sat. April 4 - Columbus, OH @ Big Room Bar Sun. April 5 - Cleveland, OH @ Now That’s Class Fri. April 10 - Chicago, IL @ Schubas Sat. April 11 - Madison, WI @ Der Rathskellar at U of W Sun. April 12 - Milwaukee, WI @ Cactus Club Mon. April 13 - Minneapolis, MN @ 7th Street Entry Thu. April 23 - Detroit, MI @ Sanctuary % Fri. April 24 - Toronto, CA @ Baby G % Sat. April 25 - Montreal, CA @ Brasserie % Mon. April 27 - Brooklyn, NY @ Rough Trade Tue. April 28 - Philadelphia, PA @ Boot & Saddle % Wed. April 29 - Washington, DC @ Pie Shop % Thu. April 30 - Richmond, VA @ Richmond Music Hall % Fri. May 1 - Durham, NC @ Cat’s Cradle (Back Room) % Sat. May 2 - Atlanta, GA @ Drunken Unicorn % Sun. May 3 - Nashville, TN @ DRKMTTR % Sun. June 7 - Lawrence, KS @ White Schoolhouse Mon. June 8 - Denver, CO @ Lost Lake Lounge Wed. June 10 - Boise, ID @ Neurolux Thu. June. 11 - Seattle, WA @ Sunset Tavern Sat. June 13 - Portland, OR @ Bunk Bar Mon. June 15 - San Francisco, CA @ Crystal Cavern Wed. June 17 - Los Angeles, CA @ El Cid Thu. June 18 - San Diego, CA @ Soda Bar Sat. June 20 - Tucson, AZ @ Club Congress Mon. June 22 - Austin, TX @ Mohawk Tue. June 23 - San Antonio, TX @ Paper Tiger Wed. June 24 - Houston, TX @ Satellite Thu. June 25 - Dallas, TX @ Three Links *= w/ Slow Pulp, Divino Niño %= w/ Why Bonnie

Connect with Kevin Krauter:

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

[nowweareunstoppable]

my last summer

just wanted to do a quick jot of some memories from my last summer ever as a student. my clinical year goes through the summer next year so these last four months have truly been the last summer of my young adult life.

and it’s been the best summer i’ve ever had (except maybe for those early ones, with dad and my little brother roaming around the creek and the woods and the local pool all day)

new friends from roller derby, outdoor skating, learning from t & j, and then going outdoor skating with bri. bombing hills just to follow her, getting super sweaty with laura and daph, meeting inline skaters with zoe and sean.

longboarding in the culvers parking lot, and then on a real trail. bri busting her knee but rallying for the bar across the lake anyway. flying back in the pitch dark on the way back, bats swooping over head, the sunset and the heron in the tree. getting to ride in a convertible for the first time

tubing with the derby gals, making new connections, going again during a thunderstorm, and then with the vet kids.

so many dogs. so many. working in ultrasound and enjoying my job for the first time ever (?!)

movie nights at zoie’s, godzilla, 7hr hang session at jenas watching shitty movies all day. that one night out at the bars with kim n zoie and jena, flipping rocks and zo dead ass laying on the sidewalk.

ultimate frisbee, winning championship in our bracket after a huge roller coaster of a semi final match. being down 2-7 and coming back to win it. the first game my parents came to this season and it was AMAZING. scoring goals, laughing with my friends. dr. C coming to see us

doing the paper with laura. long lazy days in the sun on the couch, burger king and reading on her rug, mcdonalds drive thru over and over and over again

all my classmates coming over for dinner, playing secret hitler, then going to zoies cabin. boat rides and trying to all stand on the paddle board at once.

binging shows with kim, that secret old south american bookstore. terrace day with her on the docks.

all the dates, even the ones that didn’t work out. kissing girls. kissing some boys too.

4th of july with my cousins, my forever family on the 40

sitting on norman’s roof, house parties and boom cup and chesties champs for life. shirtfaced party and a marker crab i still cannot get off of my arm. 

dad’s screened in porch, smoking with the twins with the trees waving and the dogs laying in the sun, telling old stories and laughing about new ones. blueberries!!

sushi at the waterpark, feeling nostalgia for all the waterpark days of my youth

disc golfing today, summer’s last gasp, in the sun and in the forest with the dogs running and ultimate friends, finding a tye dye disc of my very own, beating the boys on the one hole. mango smoothie and rasberry donuts at the gas station after. 

and right now. the cicadas whining outside my window. charlie just chilling and not eating my plants for once in his dumb cat life. about to head home for dinner with my family.

so thankful for my people, my city, my sports and hobbies and all the fun energies i’ve gotten to take part in this summer. i love my life, i really fuckin do. it’s not all perfect and there’s stress looming ahead as school rockets to a start once again but holy shit - holy SHIT have i had a fuckin blast. What a wild ride this all is.