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organic-guacamole · 4 years ago

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showtime

episode 211 let's go

ok first of all, this is the second to last episode guys... I don't even wanna think about how much pain I'll be in after next week's episode

mr mazzara doing the recap-

this is so weird to me and I don't know why

WHY DIDN'T YALL JUST ASK BENJAMIN FOR HELP, THATS LITERALLY HIS THING

is Nini giving out the cards a callback to season 1 when Natalie Bagley said that Nini gave her a card or something on opening night of another musical?

STEPHY AS THE ENCHANTRESS OMG YES

Ricky in the crown gives me Harry styles in that photoshoot vibes

he's so pretty.

ok but why did we never see Ricky and Ashlyn interact before? it's been like 5 seconds and I already love how they bounce off each other and it's just so natural

OH THEY REALLY DON'T HAVE ANY UNDERSTUDIES-

well that explains a lot...

so Ricky fell on top of Ashlyn and all that broke for both of them was their wrist-

insert Jake Peralta *coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool no doubt no doubt no doubt*

of course howie was amazing as the beast, were we expecting anything less??

Ricky is so beautiful and I will not shut up about it....

let me enjoy this before the makeup crew slaps mud on his face.

Nini and Ricky talking to eachother? in a civil manner? wasn't she avoiding him just in the last episode? hm ok

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH THEY CANT EXPRESS THEIR FEELINGS JUST LIKE ME HAHAHAHAHA THIS IS HILARIOUS, WHATS NEXT? THEY CUT EVERYONE OFF CUZ THEY CANT HANDLE EMOTIONS? ...ha

yes Kaden and Rico, my favourite east high boys 🥰

I mean....where's EJ?

THERE HE IS

EJ AND GINA IN THE BACKGROUND... doing something idek

KOURTNEY'S MOM IS BACK YAY

Howie is a shining star, ofc ofc

the smallest fOrk

can't wait to see the fork burst into song about how she deserves more than to be used to eat salad😌

the duster and the bluster.... ok😃

hi Gina!

hi- oh wow I didn't know Robbie Rotten was in this show!!!!!

the portwell look.

that my friends, is a married couple's look✋

GOSH EJ WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU

aww Gina's so excited for this

D word?

Die?

Delicious?

Dom Toretto?

"good, clean fun all alone with someone I dig...a lot"

sir that does not sound very clean to me

SEBLOS

Seb looks so cute standing there next to pope Carlos

DID THEYEY REALLY LIGHT ANTOINE ON FIRE-

I NEED TO SEE THAT

Seb's reading Carlos better than big red read the script in episode 102, this is great development after the "fight"

Kourtney really just made the best outfit for herself and let the rest of them suffer

the way Gina immediately goes to hold on to EJ after the announcement

"tonight we're going to put the U in UTAH"

...

"hey where are you from?"

"TAH"

SEB'S SINGULAR CLAP KILLED ME-

he's officially salt lake city's resident thanos

just wity clapping because for some reason I have a feeling he doesn't know how to snap his fingers...don't ask why

Ms Jenn do you mind encouraging your leads before the show? idk just an idea

pepto bismol product placement smhsmh

those flowers are bigger that big red himself-

*bops along to the opening theme*

that whistle at the end slaps everytime

WHY IS THE AUDIENCE SO MASSIVE

I guess they're all here to see Ms Jenn go on as a fork after Nini decides to *go her own way*

wow i am so funny

so they couldn't do many group scenes cuz of covid, but this 300 person crowd is cool? nice

OO THE VIOLIN GIRL FROM EPISODE 6 IS IN THE ORCHESTRA

HOWIEEEEEE

"Mr Caswell", he said, in the loudest voice possible while backstage at a show that's about to start.

Mazzara what are you trying to pull-

I usually like Benjamin but I don't like his tone

"iS yOuR wHoLe FaMiLy HeRe?" LIKE YOU DON'T ALREADY KNOW THATS A SOFT SPOT FOR EJ

"we've had some good conversations these past few weeks"

right so what's going to happen after you graduate?

what does he think of you not going to Duke?

what did he say about you giving the sweatshirt that's been in the family for 3 generations to a girl you're not even dating?

good old Mr. M

therapist Mr. Mazzara, they all need it.

start with Ricky though.

"Michael Bowen"

dude why did you shave, now you look less like "hot lumberjack" and more "creep at the gas station"

OH-

does she not like Mike anymore?

why does it sound like jennzzara started dating and now they just sit back and talk smack about everyone in their freetime

break the fourth wall-

uhhhh im scared

why am I scared

he's scary

hehe flowers for Ricky, obviously for Ricky, ObViOuSLY

oh boy poor Michael

this man is in love, rip

why does Ms Jenn always look at people with her eyes open so wide

LILYYYY

I'm only excited because I really like the idea of lily and Ricky being friends, nothing more.

ha this guy's got jokes

a MOAT AROUND THE SCHOOL

wheeze

also he's very pretty.

"the wolves and very talented humans"

how dare he forget to mention the very talented wolves and normal humans, smh erasure

"being nice, what a concept" ted talk by Lily who still doesn't have a last name

did she just say lol out loud

same with the hug emoji last episode-

go touch some grass babes

the way he didn't say no, but said he didn't know how the east high kids would react-

not saying he does want to date her but that's an interesting thing to think about, also another thing to write an essay analysis on just to leave it in my drafts for a few months

awww lily genuinely trying to help him

sorry guys, I've been taken by the Lily charm (didn't know it existed until now but oh well)

REMEMBER WHEN I SAID I'LL NEVER SHIP PORTWELL?

just look at me now

the Lily wink I can't she's so cute-

HELP ME I'M BEING HELD HOSTAGE BY LIL-

David Attenborough?

oh nvm it's Benjamin narrating the show in a really weird British accent for some reason.

STEPHY GOT MORE LINES YAY GOOD FOR HER

also is this to show that Nini doesn't care about being the star of the show anymore? the way she's supporting everyone else even though she's a fork?

I would pay for a special of the full musical ngl

OOO THE TRANSFORMATION WAS SMOOTH

shockingly

yo where did the makeup come from

man I wish I was a theatre kid

THIS IS STEPHY'S EPISODE NOW IDC✋

my girl is starring

"needs an X-factor"

Simon Cowbell creeps in

"it's a yes from me"

and them boom, he takes Nini and mistreats her horribly and then she comes back to theatre after deciding music isn't for her👍

"I thought she just hog-tied him?"

don't ask sebby, it's better if you don't know.

imagine they spotlight the wrong person and this dude is just some random person that likes writing down stuff during shows.

Ms Jenn just let them do what they rehearsed (at some point we never saw) or else this is gonna end horribly wrong

"help"

same Carlos, same

I love how seb is just his translator rn

I thought he said "great displeasure" instead of "greatest pleasure"....help?

big red coming out from throwing up to see his girlfriend star is the cutest thing in this show.

Ash and Gina dancing is so fun

I'm imagining them practicing at night at their home, watching the movie for the 100th time and making sure their one dance together is perfect

KOURTNEY YES

HOWIE IS IN LOVE AHHHH

I LOVE HOWIE SO MUCH

SEBBY

THIS SCENE HAS SO MUCH GOING ON I CAN'T KEEP UP

THIS IS SO GOOD

HOW???

no because I'm actually crying

I'm dead serious.

we need this musical released as a special

big red is so proud and I love to see it

Natalie: "if you do not by at least 20 dollars in concessions, you do not support art"

rando in the audience: "but I pay for ad free Spotify"

Mr Mazzara clapping in the distance

Gigi, the guy you like is talking to you, complimenting you and hyping you up

YOU LUCKY LITTLE FEATHER DUSTER

aw EJ teasing her about the chocolates in a way that doesn't make her feel bad? take notes Richard

JORDAN FISHER

there is no rest of the show idc Jordan is it for me

THE WIG CAP ON RICKY OMG

they look like they're high and having "deep" conversations on the floor

THE MEAN GIRL WITH THE EYES-

@sunshine-julie-molina YOU HEAR THAT

Natalie really just be coming for them all

Howie what is happening rn

I'm scared

"did you enjoy it"

"very much"

dude wants a kiss so bad

ASHLYN OMG

NO DON'T DO IT BECAUSE OF LILY, PUT YOUR OWN TWIST ON IT

I want a Jordan autograph please

just keep swim- oh pushing...

Gina is literally a giant next to him and I live for it

am I about to cry for the 3rd time in this episode?

yes.

Ricky's leg kicks under the table makes me so happy aw

the portwell glances will kill me.

ah yes, mashed potato snow

Mr. M.... I'm not a theatre kid but even I know you can't have your phone on backstage.

Howie please just do it

CHIP'S BIG LINE I CANT

I LITERALLY HAD TO PAUSE IT AMD SCREAM INTO MY MASK FOR A SOLID 2 MINUTES (I'm not at home rn) HES SO CUTE

oh ok bye Jordan

oo tea

NOT HIM BEING STARSTRUCK BECAUSE HE'S MEETING HIS FUTURE BROTHER IN LAW-

"we're all just glad Gigi has a big brother figure in her life"

excuse me for a few thousand hours while I laugh hysterically

THE CAMERA ZOOM ON EJS FACE AND EVERYTHING-

STOP EJ LOOKS LIKE HE'S GONNA CRY BUT I CAN'T TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY WITH THE STAGE MAKE-UP

someone else said this already but I think it's hilarious that they had to bring in 2 guest characters to create some portwell angst

omg this really is Cici's episode, found family is their thing

elevator music lol

I'm gonna bet that big red took the harness for his surprise for Ashlyn without realising what it was

did Ms. Jenn just....tell her most mentally unstable student....to commit suicide....on a disney show...was that....I'm very....well....what the actual-

oh and there she goes running off instead of trying to make it right

oh wow Nini's the hero, she's gonna save the show 🤩

😐

the judge is doing a sudoku

honestly if I went to the hsm show as well, I'd come prepared for this one too

Lily why are you looking like that-

I WAS JUST STARTING TO LIKE YOU DON'T MESS THIS UP

wow ok, there goes that.

omg

what if Howie was acting weird because he knew what Lily did and wanted to tell Kourtbut Lily threatened him so he was scared to-

anyways see y'all clowns next week when we all simultaneously lose all motivation for the week without Fridays to look forward to.

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts s2 #hsmtmts season 2 #hsmtmts spoilers #ej caswell #gina porter #ricky bowen #nini salazar roberts #seb mathew smith #carlos rodriguez #big red #ashlyn caswell #kourtney greene #howie my pizza king #lily hsmtmts

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elshopper · 6 years ago

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Everything

Oh, what do ya know? I wrote something!

Summary -- Mike and El have nothing to do but wait on the back of an ambulance, and they spend this brief little eye-of-the-storm taking care of each other. Just like they always have.

Read below, or on ao3 here.

El could feel everything.

She could feel the tiny needle and thread that was stitching into her shin, pulling her skin back together so slowly that it was absolutely agonizing to endure. She could feel the muscles in her arms and shoulders shaking from overuse, or exhaustion, or shock, or a toxic combination of the three. She could feel the constant ringing that reverberated in her skull, like a blaring alarm with no off switch. She could feel a weight too, resting so pointedly on her shoulders, that she knew wouldn’t lift until Joyce and Hopper returned.

They would scoop them all up. Scold them and dust them off and bring them home. Get their stories straight. Take everyone back to their families, one by one.

This has to be a strange tradition, El thought to herself as she tried to focus on anything other than the woman stitching into her flesh like she was some kind of garment. But that’s what this is now. A tradition.

“Shouldn’t be much longer,” the nurse said as El winced after a particularly rough pull of the suture. “Only a few more stitches to go.”

El sighed and closed her eyes to avoid the gory scene in front of her, though it barely held a candle to everything else she’d seen over the gruesome course of the past several days. Those images flashed behind her closed eyelids and she shuttered them back open to stare blearily at the haze of flashing lights and bodies running in and out of the mall doors.

But instead of the scene she was expecting, she opened her eyes to find Mike standing in front of her, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a white bandage taped to his forehead. The dried blood on the side of his nose had been wiped away, and he gave El a weak smile as he motioned to the empty space beside her. He had been there since the medics had all arrived, and was only pulled away to have his own wound cleaned up. El nodded for him to sit back down.

“I didn’t need any stitches,” he said as he hoisted himself up to sit on El’s right side. “So that’s some good news at least.”

“But will you have a badass scar?” El asked, raising her eyebrows to tease him.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, letting out the smallest laugh. “Probably not. Nothing like yours.” El’s heart fluttered, but she refocused.

“Did you see Max?”

“Yeah, she’s just shocked. That’s all. She’s not hurt.” he replied. “Just kind of… staring. Lucas is sitting with her.”

“Did you tell her I said I was sorry?”

“Yes, El, but I still don’t think you needed to.”

But she did need to. Mike was wrong. El couldn’t save him like Max needed her to and it crushed her in the most painful way.

“What did she say?”

“She said she was sorry, too.”

“What is she sorry for…” El asked under her breath, folding her arms across her chest.

Mike just shrugged his shoulders and stared blankly ahead, scanning the crowd for Joyce or Hopper just like El had been doing minutes prior. After a few beats of silence, he wordlessly pulled the blanket from around his shoulders to drape it around the pair of them. She realized then that she had been shivering, despite the humid July night.

“All done,” the nurse cut in, securing the last bit of tape on the bandage she had been fashioning. El hadn’t even noticed her working since Mike sat down next to her. “Just remember to tell your parents to change the gauze every couple of hours. Even overnight.”

El let out a small and raspy “Thanks,” and Mike nodded as she packed up the last of her medical kit and turned to address another person’s grisly wounds.

“Everyone else?” El asked as soon as she walked to her next station.

Mike nodded.

“They’re okay. You definitely have the worst of it. Steve has a pretty nasty black eye, but yours is way way worse.”

El smiled a little.

“Who hit Steve this time?”

Mike laughed at that one. Just a little chuckle slipped out – nothing too loud.

“I don’t know. I think one of the Russians maybe? I haven’t heard the full story yet. I can’t believe Dustin was trapped down there with them for twenty-four whole hours…”

El dropped her head onto Mike’s shoulder as she listened to him piece together all the seemingly awesome parts of their eventful evening, hoping that the combination of his voice and his body heat would do something to ease the incessant ringing in her ears. It pulsated all through her head, almost like her brain had turned itself into a heart and it was trying to pump the blood back into her skull. Trying to recuperate. Scrambling to heal itself. But she didn’t want to think about that. Not right now.

She closed her eyes again and drew in a long, shaky breath. She linked her arm around Mike’s and at the gesture he crossed his left leg with her right, swinging them slightly as they dangled off the back of the ambulance. It almost felt back to normal, despite their absolutely not normal surroundings.

“Is your head feeling any better?” he asked.

“A little.”

It wasn’t a lie. He was at least doing a good job of pulling her focus to something else. Anything else.

“That’s good. That’s a good sign, right?”

El nodded. She just wanted him to keep talking so she could keep hearing his voice. Earlier in the night, she had been scared she would never get to hear it again.

“Mike.”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me something good…” Tell me what you were trying to say earlier. “Please?”

“Well, good news is my mom always makes an apple pie for the Fourth of July and she probably has it out at home right now and after this we can go and I’ll cut you however big a slice you want. Seriously. Even if you want half the pie.”

El felt a small smile creep across her face.

“And I was thinking of biking to the video store next week to grab some movies for us and we can watch them together. If you want. I promise I’ll get stuff you like. No scary movies.”

A giggle escaped her, and she almost had to cover her mouth with her hand to conceal it. It felt wrong to laugh in this atmosphere, but it was never wrong to laugh with him.

“And I’m going to talk to Hopper I think. When they get back. I’m going to tell him I’m sorry for being such an asshole. I mean, he just cares about you. Just like I do. He just… I mean… he just worries…”

Mike continued to stumble over his words, and adorably so in El’s opinion. She knew what he was trying to say, even though he couldn’t quite get it out the way he wanted.

“Hey,” she cut him off from his ramblings, and he seemed grateful, sighing and looking down at her face that was nuzzled into his shoulder.

“You’re my boyfriend again?” she asked, looking up and into his eyes for the first time since he’d sat next to her. They were bleary with shed tears and bloodshot from exhaustion. They shone with the array of red, white and blue flashing lights that surrounded them on all sides, but they lit up even more at her question.

“Well… I mean… if you want…”

She didn’t want him to suffer through another stammering sentence, she really didn’t. No matter how amusing or endearing.

“I do,” she smiled up at him. It all seemed so small compared to everything that was happening around them. The wailing sirens in the distance. The soldiers and their stomping boots. The choppers spinning their blades above their heads.

It also felt like the most important thing she could say. It was the last little shred of their life before all of this, and she wanted to cling to it.

“Okay, me too,” Mike said, that dopey smile of his that she loved oh so much spreading quickly across his face. It caused the tape on his bandage to pucker a little.

El moved her left hand up to his face so she could whisper something in his ear, and he leaned in closer so he could hear. Just like he always did. Just like they had before.

“You were right, earlier,” she whispered, “Being broken up is hard. And it’s stupid.”

She rested her chin on his shoulder, waiting for him to whisper some sweet nothing right back to her. He took a minute, looking down.

“Yeah,” Mike said solemnly, looking at their swinging feet, “Let’s never do it again.”

She felt him tense up against her right after he said it, probably kicking himself mentally for being too forward or whatever but she didn’t mind it at all. She wasn’t fazed. She understood. She agreed. He was silly to think that she wouldn’t.

“Okay,” she replied, talking him off of his mental ledge. She pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling back down to his side. “We won’t.”

It was back to waiting for now, but Mike was doing a good job of distracting her from what lied ahead. He always did. Ever so briefly, El felt calm. Happy, in a strange way. Her family was safe. Mike was safe. Max was safe. Hopper and Joyce would charge back on to the scene any minute now. El smiled as she moved her hand down from Mike’s arm to grasp onto his hand, and they fit together like two puzzle pieces. Just like they always had.

And El could feel everything.

for the wives, of course: @ericasinclairs @summer-in-hawkins @dustinhendrsn @mikeswheeler @mikewheeler @milevenhearteyes @elhoppers @serendipitousrambles @elshopper @scooptroops @lucascsinclairs

#stranger things #stranger things 3 #mileven #eleven #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fic #stranger things 3 fan fiction #mileven fan fiction #lets be honest tho #this is canon #writing things #ao3 #mileven fan fic #mike wheeler #stranger things 3 fan fic

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olehistorian · 5 years ago

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https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/the-interview-imelda-staunton-is-tight-lipped-on-playing-the-crowns-future-queen-pkzpb76b2

Have you watched Vera Drake lately? Obviously, you have to be in a certain Saturday-night mood to turn off The Masked Singer and choose to put on Mike Leigh’s tale of a big-hearted backstreet abortionist in the East End in 1950. But it’s worth another visit. It’s one of the great British films and turbo-boosted the careers of many a character actor. Leading the ensemble cast in the title role — in an Oscar-nominated, Bafta-winning performance — was Imelda Staunton, who would become queen of them all. And possibly even the Queen. We’ll come to that.

“Just the best, best, best job of my life,” is how Staunton reflects on Vera Drake now. “Yeah, it was very hard to continue after that.”

After Vera Drake, Staunton had the little-old-lady role pretty much sewn up. The “little” is unavoidable. She’s 5ft nothing. In the hotel sideroom in which we meet, she fidgets on the edge of an armchair, sipping a juice a similar shade of green to her blouse and trench coat, which she keeps on throughout the interview. The “old” is perhaps more unfair: she was in her forties when she played Drake. We meet the day before her 64th birthday. “I think a lot of women now don’t think about their age because it’s changed for women, hasn’t it?”

She did “harrowing” again last year in ITV’s true-crime A Confession, playing the mother of Sian O’Callaghan, the 22-year-old from Swindon who was murdered in 2011. But otherwise, of late, she’s been — in the nicest way possible — British cinema’s arch biddy: in the gay-rights drama Pride; in Nanny McPhee; in the Downton Abbey movie alongside her husband, Jim Carter, who plays the long-suffering butler Carson; and as Professor Dolores Umbridge in the Harry Potter films. It all comes back to Mike Leigh. “I wouldn’t have got Harry Potter if my profile hadn’t been upped with Vera Drake,” she says. “They might have wanted me, but I wasn’t, you know, hot enough.”

At the end of last year, it was reported that the ultimate little-old-lady part was coming Staunton’s way: succeeding Olivia Colman as the Queen in series five and six of The Crown. Netflix played it down as “speculation��. But at a charity event at the Ivy before Christmas, Grant Tucker, the Sunday Times entertainment correspondent, asked Staunton’s husband, Carter, what it was like being married to royalty. “Thankfully I don’t have to start bowing to her for another two years,” he replied, “so I have plenty of time to practise.” So it’s true? Staunton’s reply is immediate, polite and professional: “I can’t discuss anything to do with that.” Which isn’t, you’ll note, a no.

She tells me she woke up at 4am today, thinking about her next big gig — Hello, Dolly! at the Adelphi Theatre. It isn’t on until August. Rehearsals don’t start until June. But “to me, that’s 10 minutes”, she says. “I just know the process is beginning. As Jim said, ‘This is the rest of the year, is it?’ I think about it and think about it. ‘How the hell am I going to do that?’ [Past success] means nothing at all, because it’s the next challenge. The more people say, ‘Ooh, it’s going to be great,’ the more I just get so depressed.”

And what success. In the West End, she’s busted free of the twinsets to become a bona fide, big-lunged musical star — a pocket rocket with a trail of five-star reviews and awards in her wake. Her first Olivier was back in 1991, for Into the Woods. In 2013, she won one for Sweeney Todd, in which she appeared alongside Michael Ball. Stephen Sondheim saw her performance and told her she should take on a revival of Gypsy next. The 2016 Olivier followed for that.

Her dog, Molly, a terrier, appeared on stage with her in the early performances of Gypsy, at the Chichester Festival Theatre. One time, during the West End run, a mouse snuck into her costume. “I did the whole first 20 minutes with a mouse inside the sleeve of my coat, singing the song, carrying on the scene. It’s good what your head can cope with, isn’t it?” It’s not the sort of thing that should happen to a Harry Potter star, surely? “That’s what you want. That’s the reality of the glamour of the thing.”

Staunton grew up in Archway, north London, above her mum’s hairdressing shop. Her dad was a labourer. Her mum, a first-generation Irish immigrant, was a big fan of the Queen. She died just before her daughter received her Oscar nomination for Vera Drake, and before Staunton collected her OBE and later CBE from the palace. “She’d have bloody loved all that,” she says.

She went to a convent school — “a really nice one because we had a lot of lay teachers”. Her report cards read: “Imelda could try harder, but she was very good in the play.” Her elocution teacher, Mrs Stoker, pushed her towards Rada, where contemporaries included Alan Rickman, Timothy Spall and Juliet Stevenson. When she got her first job in London, in 1982, it was in a musical: Guys and Dolls at the National Theatre. Staunton, by now used to lead roles, was only in the chorus. “I was thinking, ‘I just played Electra, what am I doing? Oh God.’” But Ian Charleson, Bob Hoskins, Julie Covington and Julia McKenzie were higher up the bill. “That’s what I was doing there: learning, really, really learning. That was wonderful.”

Also in the cast, seven years her senior, was Jim Carter. They married the following year. In 1986 they appeared together in Dennis Potter’s classic TV musical The Singing Detective. But, until the Downton movie, their working lives seldom intersected. “We don’t ever try not to work together — we just haven’t,” she says. “On the Downton film, we got completely overexcited, as we went to work for three days at the same time. What was lovely was doing the publicity together: travelling, just being in a hotel. We made sure we enjoyed ourselves.”

They have had a long-standing pact not to spend more than a couple of weeks apart, a rule Staunton broke to film Ang Lee’s Taking Woodstock (no, me neither). “I think it was five weeks: I was in America and thought, ‘Yep, that’ll do.’”

She enjoyed last summer filming Flesh and Blood, a new four-part ITV drama, on the coast near Eastbourne. “The sea does do something different to you, doesn’t it? I do think it would be brilliant to have somewhere by the sea, but it’s not going to happen.” She’s happy at home in Hampstead with Carter, walking the dog, spending days at the Test match and doing the gardening: “That’s probably an older person’s thing to say. Well, f*** it, you know? It’s healing, really healing. Having a stable place to come back to is quite necessary for me and for Jim, I think. It nourishes us. It allows us to go into a place that isn’t comfortable because you know you can get back to a more comfortable place.”

Flesh and Blood is an example of good parts being written for older people, especially women. “I’m encouraged by it,” says Staunton. “Very encouraged.” It’s not so much a whodunnit as a whodunnwot. In its rather gripping first episode, there’s a mystery body on a beach and a recent widow (played by 74-year-old Francesca Annis) starting a new life with a new fella who has a whiff of the gigolo about him. Staunton is back as the little old lady, Mary, a creepy next-door neighbour with a pair of binoculars and penchant for opening other people’s mail. This primetime drama does contain scenes of pensioners smooching.

“It’s not just for the sake of it,” says Staunton. “This isn’t trying to be ‘Oh, we’re beautiful things having sex later in life.’ There’s a loving relationship developing. The fact that [in one of Annis’s scenes] the dressing gown slips off is not extraordinary.” Would Staunton ever want a crack at being the older woman getting the, ahem, action? “I don’t think that would be required,” she replies. “I don’t think so, no — not unless it was funny.”

We talk about the trial of the film producer Harvey Weinstein. What experience has Staunton had of that grim — and criminal — casting- couch culture? “None. Absolutely none,” she says. “I’m not surprised [that it goes on], but I’ve always been in situations where women are treated equally. In the rehearsal room, women behave as they wish to behave and are listened to, and that’s normal. I never thought, ‘Oh, isn’t this marvellous, somebody’s listening to me?’ I’ve never witnessed it, but I hope good will come out of this. The irony of that” — she pauses to choose the word carefully — “situation is that that man [Weinstein] has made good things happen now. Hurrah.”

It won’t come as too much of surprise that she voted Labour in last month’s election — her MP, Tulip Siddiq, has a 14,000-vote majority in Hampstead and Kilburn, Glenda Jackson’s old seat. Staunton voted for remain. She also featured in a video last year for Extinction Rebellion, organised by Richard Curtis. “It was a friend who said, ‘Could you come along, they’re just doing it today, this bit of filming.’ Well, I was doing nothing else. I’m not climbing up the side of a building, so I’ll go and do that. If I can help, I’ll do that. As much as we can all do, every little bit helps.”

Does she worry about putting her head above the parapet like that? “No, not at all. That’s the only bloody point of any slight fame: you’ve got to use it, to put it to good use.” She has also provided the voice for some polar bears for Greenpeace. “Trump is just an absolute … It’s just a nightmare, and the climate’s a nightmare and Brexit’s a nightmare. And yet I wake up thinking about Hello, Dolly!”

At 64, Staunton seems to recognise that a Vera Drake or Hello, Dolly! might not roll round again. Even Harry Potter was, she says, “a very serious piece of work, weirdly”. She feels lucky that an actor’s life goes on. So no plans to retire? “I don’t think people do, do they? Name me an actress! No, you won’t get bloody Maggie Smith retiring. It’s a very nice job, if you can get it.” Plus, she’s still hoping someone will cast her alongside her 26-year-old daughter, Bessie, also an actress. “I’d love that. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.”

I hope they do give her the Queen job. If there’s anyone who could add some plausibility and empathy to the madcap past 12 months of royal history, from Megxit to the sweat-free antics of Prince Andrew, it is Staunton. I would pay good money to watch her, in standard-issue HRH lemon-yellow frock and tight-curled wig, look up, fix her aide with a stare and utter the words: “A Pizza Express … in Woking?”

Flesh and Blood is on ITV in February

#imelda staunton #interview #new projects #jim carter #real life otp #the crown #downton abbey film

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writeyourownlifestory · 5 years ago

Text

Sometimes . . . Dead Is Better

Chapters: 1/4 Fandom: IT Rating: E Warnings: Character Death, Zombie(?), Literally Pet Sematary. Gay bashing. Homophobia. Murder. Animal death. Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Beverly Marsh/Ben Hanscom Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, lots of death.

Tag list: @richietoaster, @beproudtozier, @that-weird-girls-blog, @s-onora, @s-s-georgie, @bellarosewrites, @iamcupcakefrosting, @reddieonwheels, @ghostnebula, @madidraw @madi-main, @gazebobullshit, @thoughtfullyyoungduck, @airbenderking, @ambitiousskychild, @tozierking,

You know what they say about Derry, no one who dies here ever really dies.

IT + Pet Semetary = fun times for no one involved

It all started when their dog passed away.

They had decided to spend their summer vacation in Maine, a terrible decision on their parents as the city had far more to offer than their sleepy little town. Eddie had just started a new job and was only given a week to take off during the months of June to August. They chose July because that’s when it would be the least offensively hot in Maine.

Richie had landed a pretty sweet job interviewing celebrities for Podcasts. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to do with his life, but he’d take it over being unemployed. Rather than sit around in their apartment for a week like Richie had hoped they would, they packed up their travel-sized belongings and headed back to the town they grew up in.

Despite his mother begging him to stay in his old childhood bedroom, Eddie put his foot down and settled to rent a room in the local townhouse. Sonia Kaspbrak wasn’t happy about it, but so long as Eddie was back, she’d deal.

Richie was content with this choice. For one, his own family no longer lived in Derry, so it wasn’t like he had anywhere to offer. Second, Eddie’s bedroom, which was basically a shrine to the poor guy, was too small for them to both fits. Not that Sonia would even allow Richie to stay there. She had never lived Richie, neither as Eddie’s friend or boyfriend, so Richie was sure if they were going to stay at the Kaspbrak house, he’d be sleeping on that uncomfortable couch.

Luckily, Eddie cared about his well being enough to not force him to do that and they got themselves a room with a mattress big enough for them both.

It started off pretty good. Eddie’s mother was beginning him to come over and spend time with her, wanting him to use up all seven days with just her. He compromised and gave as much time as he could while also meeting up with some old friends. Mike Hanlon still lived in Derry, running the library as the local historian.

Most of the group had moved on out of Derry, choosing to have lives of their own. The only ones they saw often enough were Bill Denbrough and Stanley Uris, who went back and forth from Long Island to California depending on whether or not Bill’s latest novel was to be turned into a script. The last time Richie and Eddie saw Ben Hanscom and Beverly (formerly Marsh) Hanscom was when they announced the birth of their first child.

It was tough growing up and growing apart from the people you always left closest to. Eddie and Richie were lucky as they always had each other. Through all the ups and downs, the trials and tribulations, Eddie had Richie and Richie had Eddie. It wasn’t easy because hello, being gay in Maine was never easy, but they made it work back in high school and they’d make it work here.

The first day had been them getting comfortable and meeting up with Mike for dinner. It was nice seeing a friendly face to talk about all the things that changed. The Aladdin was still standing, still looking as beaten up as ever. The standpipe was still the obnoxious eyesore that made the town look ever so picturesque. Keene’s drug store was still around and Richie made sure to tease Eddie about picking up his inhaler replacement.

They hung out and enjoyed themselves in the townhouse. Eddie was still iffy about certain things and made sure to change the sheets on the bed with the ones they had brought from home. It was for the best and Richie wasn’t going to argue with him, especially since Eddie was more than kind enough to allow Richie to messy them up in their own way when they got home from dinner.

It was the following day that everything turned to shit. Eddie had promised to spend the entire day with his mother, leaving Richie to fend for himself in the penthouse. Along with their luggage, they also brought along with dog Penny. She was a preciously little Pomeranian who was sweeter than candy and the apple of their eye. They had been thinking of getting a pet for a while and after finally buying a place of their own, they went down to the shelter to pick one out.

Pure breed dogs like Penny weren’t usually brought to places like that, rather sold by a breeder, but they were in luck. Her mother had been put up for adoption while pregnant and the puppies were scattered across the shelter. They took the smallest one because it reminded Richie so much of Eddie and welcomed her into their home.

They weren’t too sure where the name came from. Richie joked that they called her Penny because she was dirt cheap compared to so many other dogs that literally cost you an arm and a leg just to have. Eddie liked to think they got it from “Penny Lane” the Beatle song, but neither was right or wrong.

Now, the thing about the townhouse was that the whole thing hadn’t been updated since they were kids. No nice TVs or anything from the modern era. There were fans offered, but no AC unit in place. Richie was suffering from the heat and opened the far window in hopes of casting a bit of fresh air into the place.

He sat on the couch with his computer, trying to come up with some new material for the standup special he had been working on. He was funny and knew he could be funny outside of the podcast world. All he needed was the material to show it off.

Well, Penny was a precocious little pup and always liked to inspect things. She hopped up onto the window sill and began yapping at the birds on the outside. She had done the same thing yesterday, except the difference was there were several inches of glass keeping her at bay. Now there was no barrier between them, so nothing stopped the poor thing from leaping out the window, charging at the birds.

Unlike the birds however, she didn’t have wings to keep her from falling the several stories down onto the pavement below. It was only the sound of her whimpering that caught Richie’s ear. It didn’t take much for the man to realize what happened and by the time he got down to the street belong, Penny was suffering more than any animal should.

Richie was distraught. Despite never having been known to be an animal person, Penny was as close to as a child that Eddie and he were going to have for a while. She was literally their baby. They had taken her at the moment she was able to get off drinking from her mother. They bought her toys and little outfits. Eddie talked about buying a carriage so he could push her around while jogging because her little legs were just too short for the three-mile trip he’d take around the city.

She even had her own corner in their bedroom and a dog house in the living room of their place, but at the end of the day, she always ended up sleeping on their bed.

Eddie even put a little staircase at the foot of the bed so she could hop on up without issue.

And now she was dead on the ground, having fallen from their fucking room because Richie couldn’t just put up with the heat.

He felt awful. Disgusting and terrible. Eddie would hate him for this, that much was obvious. He’d call him every bad name in the book because he just had to open up the window. Even if it was a mistake, an innocent one, that didn’t stop Richie from feeling like garbage.

He called Mike because he had no other idea of what to do. He didn’t know if there were any local vets or anything like that. There was no way they’d be burying her here. The last thing Richie wanted was to leave their precious little Penny behind.

Richie thought about cremating her and bringing her back up to New York. They could scatter her ashes along the water or keep her in an urn in their apartment. Eddie would probably want to leave a little memorial at her favorite park. They didn’t have a backyard or anything like that, so they took her to the dog park two to three times a week.

When Mike came, they sat together, with Penny tucked away inside one of the meatpacking boxes.

He wanted to wait for Eddie. He had to wait for Eddie because if they guy came home and Richie told him that he was gone and Eddie didn’t even get to say goodbye, then that would just make it so much worse.

They sat together in the alleyway behind the townhouse, smoking as Richie thought about his fate and how angry Eddie would be.

“She used to curl up on Eddie’s lap whenever he was trying to work.” He mentioned to Mike with a loving smile. “All she ever wanted to do was cuddle us and we let her because we were mushes. Now she’s gone.”

Richie rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, ignoring the fear of tears coming on. He felt sick to his stomach and looked over to the box just a few feet away from him.

“My dog died when I was a kid,” Mike admitted quietly. “It was before we met. Henry Bowers gave him meat that was laced with insect poison. Guess he thought the old mutt was an eyesore.”

Richie shivered at the thought of Bowers and all the old memories came flooding back to him. He had been a thorn in Richie’s side even before he realized he was gay though the latter didn’t help matters much. He was a racist, homophobic shit who probably went nowhere in life. Or worse, actually made something of himself.

Either way, the less they spoke about Bowers the better.

“My grandfather told me about a place high up on the hills near the old Native American tribute. Apparently, the place still has some magic hidden up there or something. Anyway, he carried the old boy there and the next day, he was back.”

“Back? Like . . . back from the dead?”

“I can’t explain it, but he was back. Different, but back.”

“Different how?”

“Mean,” Mike confessed, putting out the butt of his cigarette on the nearby wall. “He was pretty vicious. Broke into the barn and killed a couple of sheep. My grandfather ended up putting him down because he was becoming such a problem.”

“Penny couldn’t kill a thing. Barely weights five pounds.” Richie mentioned, looking from Mike to the box. He didn’t believe in magic or anything of the sorts, but he was a desperate man. “Where was this place?”

Turned out to be twenty minutes away by car, out towards where Mike lived and even further than that. The sky was turning dark by the time they got there and passing through the woods didn’t make it any easier.

“I want you to know the only reason I brought you here is that you’re my friend,” Mike told him calmly as they made their way down the path. There was a small area with handmade gravestones and a sign reading “Pet Sematary” hanging above. The incorrect spelling would drive Eddie crazy and Richie found himself smiling just thinking of it.

“So what, I just . . . pick a place?”

“Not here,” Mike said and carried down past the bushels of woods and up the hill town until they came upon a bleak circle with Native American carvings all along the ground.

“Have you been here before?” Richie asked carefully.

“Once. My grandfather and I were looting the area for anything we thought we could sell.” Mike admitted.

“You stole from Native Americans? Don’t they have enough to deal with?” Richie inquired.

With a slight glare, he continued. “He showed me this place and told me a few things about it. He didn’t want me to be curious and find it on my own. Mike paused, turning to hand Richie the shovel as he took the box that contained Penny. “You bury your own.” He told him. “That’s the rule.”

With one last sigh, Richie got to digging. He didn’t think any of this would work, but he was desperate to find out. If it all turned out to be some sick joke on Mike’s end, then at least they could call the trip short. Richie would dig up Penny and they’d go to the next town over to cremate her. They’d handle her ashes properly and Richie would take whatever punishment Eddie had planned for him.

When he was finished, he found himself more tired than expected. Like the place took away whatever energy he had to offer it. He got back to the townhouse and fell into the bed, falling asleep before even realizing it.

When he woke the following morning, it was to the sound of Eddie yelling at him. He jolted up, not knowing what day it was or why he was being hassled. He pushed himself up and out of bed, realizing only now he still had his muddy shoes on.

He stepped out of the bedroom and found Eddie on the floor, kneeling down beside a very dirty Penny. Her normally golden fur was matted with dirt and she was yipping around and around, much like the bubble ball of energy she was before.

“Seriously? What the hell did you do, take her running through the woods?” Eddie demanded, looking up to Richie. “And you! What, did you sleep in dirty clothes?”

“You didn’t come home last night,” Richie mumbled, rubbing his hand against his face.

“Mom had me watch one of those Turner Classic Movie Marathons. I fell asleep on the couch. I texted you but I never got a reply.” Eddie stood them, carrying Penny in his arms. “Come on, pretty girl. You need a bath. And Papa is gonna be the one to do it.”

Penny was shoved in his arms before he could even properly respond. Shuffling off to the bathroom, he listened to Eddie go on and on about his day with his mother while he got the tub set up for Penny.

He watched the dog curiously, trying to piece together what the hell happened. For a split second, Richie thought that the entire events of last night had been a horrible dream. Maybe he had just taken Penny out somewhere and they both got dirty. This town always gave him headaches, a little memory loss was no surprise to him.

“Rich, why is the window open?” Eddie asked as he popped his head into the bathroom. “In the living room. It’s wide open, you didn’t leave it open all night, did you? What if a bird got in? I swear I leave you alone for a fucking day.”

Richie stared with wide eyes at the dog that was digging into the bathroom rug. If last night wasn’t a dream, then that would mean Penny came back from the dead. How the fuck did she get back to the apartment? How did she get into the apartment? Nothing made sense to Richie, but he tried to ignore it all as he lifted her up and put her into the tub.

Normally, Penny was a lover of bath time. At their own apartment, they had plenty of room in their double-sized tub so it wouldn’t be a surprise for her to whine and whimper until Eddie lifted her up and they all bathed together on nights when they just needed some relaxation.

She would sit and allow Eddie to wash her and blow bubbled with her nose. Richie had countless pictures of her on his phone where she had colorful shower caps on to keep her ears or rubber duckies to keep her entertained.

Now, the former majestic and comforting dog was growling and yipping at Richie, going so far as to bite his arm when he tried to wash her. Richie couldn’t remember a single time that Penny had a bit at him, had snapped at all, but he chose not to question it.

She was back and they’d live with the attitude adjustment for now. He made a mental note to message Mike and give him a heads up about the place, but for now, he had a zombie dog to wash.

After the bath, Richie let Penny go and she moved around the apartment, going into the corner sit alone. Richie also took a shower, washing away all the dirt under his hair and somehow in his hair. He changed into clean clothes and found the dirty sheets had already been stripped and changed by Eddie, who was back in the kitchen, typing away on his computer as he drank his coffee.

“I thought we agreed on no work?” He asked casually, going to plop down onto the couch.

“Not work. Social stuff. Updating statues and all that.” Eddie moved forward, going to sit beside him on the couch. He held up his laptop, showing a picture from facebook. It was from Beverly and Ben with their baby on the beach. An adorable scene with Beverly completely slathered in sunscreen because of her pale complexion and Ben wearing the ugliest fucking hat he has ever seen. “Aren’t they adorable?”

Richie had to smile. He wasn’t wrong. They were very, very cute because how could they not be? They had been together since the end of high school. Lots of back and forth before Beverly finally grew a brain and realized the one she wanted and needed was Ben. They were a gorgeous family and Richie was envious of her happiness.

“That could be us someday,” Eddie ventured with a smile.

“Babe, you wear like . . . three times more sunblock than Beverly and if you think I’m wearing a hat that horrendous, you’re mistaken.”

“Not that, dumbass. The baby!” Right. The child.

Eddie had talked about it before. The whole adoption thing. Richie wasn’t opposed to it. Eddie had originally suggested fostering but Richie shut that down hardcore because he knew better. He knew Eddie would never be able to let the kid go so at least if they adopted right off the bat, they wouldn’t have to deal with anybody coming and trying to take the kid away from them.

“Eds, we’ve tried to remember? We just can’t seem to get you pregnant,” Richie teased, the tip of his nose nuzzling Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie sighed, closing the computer and placing it onto the coffee table beside Richie’s. They had talked about a lot of things. Adoption. Marriage. Growing old together. His own parents lived happily together raising two kids before retiring to Flordia. They weren’t perfect, but they didn’t have to be. Richie just hoped to be half the kind of partner his father had been, even if he wanted to be a better father.

“Your mom's not gonna cry and beg you to spend the night again, will she?” Richie asked curiously.

“Probably, but I won’t go. I told her I’d see her later this week but I want to use this time wisely and actually enjoy my vacation. Not just run around and do errands for her.”

“What a good son you are, Eddie Bear,” Richie said, kissing his cheeks wetly. Eddie groaned and pushed him away, causing Richie to laugh out. “Seriously, though. Do you have any plans? Did you sign us up for anything? No one to have dinner with?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, then what do you say to a good old fashioned date, huh? I was thinking: movies, dinner, and a walk along rickety Kissing Bridge?”

It was what they did when they were teenagers. Hang back at the top of the theater, grabbed pizza at the local parlor, and spit loogies off the bridge to the river below. Of course, as they got older and became an item, things became more romantic. They held hands during the movies and separated from the others for dinner. The only spit they shared at the bridge were kisses shared in secret. It wasn’t ideal, but it was good enough for them.

“I think you got yourself a date, Tozier.” Eddie decided, turning his head to kiss Richie.

It almost deepened then and while Richie would have been more than happy to let Eddie have his way with him right on the couch, they both turned away to see Penny pissing on the TV stand.

“Penny! What the hell?” Normally when the pup had to go she would let out a whimper and circle at the door. She was well trained; they had her certificate at doggy school and everything, but none of that seemed to matter anymore. Eddie pushed up off the couch to clean up and Richie watched as the dog walked on, obviously not giving a single fuck.

They changed and left the apartment. Richie worried about what Penny would do when they were gone, what trouble she would get into. She wasn’t a messy dog; she had been a wonderful puppy and didn’t even chew on a single shoe, but now that she was . . . different, he worried about what would come of it.

Richie couldn’t think about that right now. He wanted to focus on something better and that was going out on a date with his boyfriend. They chose whatever the theater was playing when they arrived. Didn’t bother to check online, mostly cause Eddie wasn’t even sure the Aladdin even had a website. They chose The Monkey’s Paw, some old black and white film that was playing; bought their large popcorn and sodas and went up to the top ledge as they did as kids.

Richie kicked his feet up, waiting for Eddie to do the same so they could intertwine their ankles. They shared the popcorn and a few kisses as the film played on. It wasn’t a horrible movie; definitely worth the time to see it through Richie found he much preferred to watch Eddie than to watch whatever was happening on screen.

When it was over, they tossed out their containers and left the theatre. Eddie was talking a mile a minute about the movie they just watched, all the while Richie just smiled and nodded along. They went to the nearby diner for dinner and Richie watched as Eddie searched and searched before finally deciding to go with a plain burger. He asked what kind of grease they used, but gave up trying afterward because it was fucking Derry Maine, they couldn’t expect anything to be healthy around here, even with the growing vegan trend.

They shared fries and onion rings, talking about all the fun they used to have when they were kids, trying to split the bill with their allowances; counting nickels and dimes just to make it. Now they were both making money and paying for the bill was with a quick swipe of the credit card.

It was a calm night, sitting and chatting with each other as Richie continued to flood the table jukebox, playing all the songs they grew up with. He ended on “Together Forever” by Rick Astley because it was loud and dramatic, the exact opposite of Eddie. Richie sang it to him lovingly, not caring if anybody watched. The look he got from Eddie was more than enough. A glance that says: you’re a total idiot but you’re my total idiot.

What more could he ever want?

When they finished, Richie persuaded Eddie to take a walk with him. It was late, but not too late. The moon was high in the sky, just after sundown. The heat settled and the breeze was beginning to pick up around them.

They walked down the lane together, right up to Kissing Bridge. Eddie read the names aloud, trying to think if he knew any of the people. They stopped when they came upon the all too familiar carving. Richie had done it back when they were just kids. Barely fourteen at the time and completely in love with his best friend. The carving was faded by now, but the sentiment meant the same.

R + E

Richie plus Eddie.

“Forever and ever, babe,” Richie mentioned, going to lean against the bridge. He watched Eddie, catching the moonlight in his eyes and in his hair. He was gorgeous and always would be. “You know . . . I had been thinking about this for a while.”

“You: thinking? Oh, that can’t be good.” Eddie laughed softly.

“It’s kind of obvious that you’re it for me, Eduardo. And unless you can find another ugly mother fucking with a gangly body, I think I might be it for you too.”

“Depends on if the circus is coming to town,” Eddie mentioned, a loving smile coming across his face.

“Eds. I’m sure there are thousands of ways I could do this and maybe waiting until we get back to New York is the better choice, but call me a sentimental fuck, but I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather ask you this.”

He had both the ring a month ago, knowing eventually they’d have the time together and he’d be able to ask. Richie couldn’t think of a better place than their hometown. Not because of the idealistic ways around it, but rather because what would be a better fuck you to this horrible town than being extremely gay smack dab in the middle of it?

Richie got down onto one knee, holding out the ring box he had fished from his jacket pocket. It was white gold with an overlay of diamonds. Simple and elegant, just like Eddie himself.

“Eddie Spaghetti,”

Eddie laughed, his cheeks turning scarlet in the moonlight. “Christ Rich,”

“Would you do the honor of marrying me?”

“Do you really think I’d say no, asshole? Yes! One hundred times yes,”

Richie’s smile was as bright as the fucking moon. He slipped the ring on, which was the perfect size because he knew exactly what size finger Eddie had. He knew more about Eddie than he knew about himself sometimes.

When all was said and done he stood, towering over the other male, though he bent forward to kiss him, not caring at his glasses were pushed up against his nose. They’d deal with it later.

Lost in their kiss, neither noticed the car stopping in the middle of the bridge or the driver getting out of it. When they broke away, Richie turned to see an all too familiar blue thunderbird idling on the bridge and coming over to them was the same mullet-wearing asshole that made his life a living hell all those years ago.

“Well, ain't this a pretty sight.” Henry Bowers muttered, looking over to his companions.

“Hello to you too, Bowers,” Eddie said, looking the group up and down slowly.

“Tozier and Kaspbrak. Haven’t seen your ugly faces around here in a while.” Henry mentioned. “Thought I got rid of your losers.”

“No, that was college. We went there while you stayed and jerked off into a bucket.” Richie replied back easily.

“Always knew you two were fucking each other. What? Marsh’s puss wasn’t good enough so you two turned into a couple of faggots?”

“There is so much wrong in everything you just said.” Eddie groaned, rubbing at his temple. The ring caught the moonlight and Henry’s attention.

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order,” Henry mentioned, approaching slowly. He placed a hand on Richie’s shoulder, that sadistic smile that always sent a shiver down Richie’s spine shined darkly. “Welcome home,” He said cheerfully before driving his fist into Richie’s stomach.

It wasn’t their first beating. They had taken blows by Bowers and his gang before and back in New York they were used to someone shouting something at them despite it being new age. They went back and forth, each putting up a fight because they weren’t going to let Bowers win this round.

It came to a close when he tried to take Eddie’s ring. The shorter male bought back, going so far as to land a punch right in Henry’s eye. That pissed him off enough to brandish the knife he always kept in the back pocket. He held onto Eddie’s hand tightly, threatening to cut off his finger and wear the ring around his neck as a souvenir.

At this point, it wasn’t worth it and Richie was shouting for Eddie to just give it up. The other assholes were holding him down, refusing to let him up to help Eddie.

Bowers licked the knife slowly, bringing the tip of it to Eddie’s face to teach him. In a swift move, Eddie jerked forward, kneeing Henry in the dick. The pain was enough to send a surge of angry through him and Bower buried the knife in Eddie’s face, cutting deeply into his cheek.

Eddie cried out, both in shock and pain, while Bowers decided to let the knife stay there as he punched the rest of Eddie’s face until his knuckles were bloody.

Richie thought it would end there. He thought they would be left beaten and bloody, but alive in the middle the street.

They couldn’t get that lucky.

Using the last bit of strength he had, Eddie muttered one final thought. “You should cut that fucking mullet. It’s been like twenty years, man.”

With that, Bowers offered one more blow before standing to his feet. He shouted for the others to come over and help him. They left Richie on the other side of the road to watch as they dragged Eddie over, to the wall of the bridge. And in one smooth move, they lifted him up and tossed him over into the river below.

Richie was left screaming, spitting out blood onto the road as Bowers and his gang drove away. Using whatever strength he had left, Richie pushed himself up, scooping his glasses from the ground, and hurried around to where the opening of the bridge led to the river. He tripped twice and fell first into the edge of the water, pushing himself up onto wobbly legs as he went deeper into the water and over to where Eddie was floating.

“Eddie. Eddie! Wake up, babe. Baby, wake up.” Richie muttered, rolling Eddie over so his face was out of the water.

His eyes were open and his neck was slack. Richie could think of countless times he had gazed into those eyes as a child, as a teen, as a man. No matter the situation, Eddie always seemed to have a wonderful glimmer there.

That glimmer was gone now and replacing it was nothing more than a vacant stare that went nowhere.

His face was mutilated and despite lying in the water for over three minutes, there was no washing the blood away. It stained his skin in the worst way, leaving him wet and icky.

He was completely unresponsive and while it was plain to see that he wasn’t dealing with shock or just fell contentious, Richie continued to hold onto him and mutter his name, rocking him slowly until someone above spotted and alerted the authorities.

Richie was treated for his wounds at the hospital while Eddie was taken away by the coroner. It still hadn’t hit Richie yet that this happened. That Eddie was dead. When he spoke to the hospital officials, they said a full autopsy hasn’t been done but their best guess was a broken neck and drowning.

They cleaned him up and stitched up any wounds he had, leaving him looking more like Frankenstein than anything. He called Mike, not knowing what else to do in this situation. And Mike called Stanley and Bill because this wasn’t something Richie should have to deal with alone.

When Richie tried to report the crime, however, he found himself being rebuffed.

“Henry Bowers couldn’t have done this,” The officer on call explained to him. “He’s on the force. He might be a hothead like his old man, but he wouldn’t break the law. He is the law.”

“Do you think I am fucking lying about this?” Richie practically screamed.

“You already said his dad was a hothead. What makes you think Bowers wouldn’t do this?” Mike challenged the officer.

“Because he is an officer. Now, unless you want to give me a real report, I suggest you deal with your own trouble.”

The officer walked away and the only reason why he didn’t straight up maul the officer was because of Mike holding him back.

“I haven’t even seen him!” Richie shouted to Mike, beginning to pace the hospital, having not seen Eddie since they arrived at the hospital. “I don’t even fucking know where he is.”

He was breaking down. He knew he was breaking down and there was no way to stop it. Richie wanted to fall to the ground and cry, not caring who saw him. He had just proposed. They were going to get married. They were going to look into adoption, they would have a family. Everything was going so fucking well for them and now it felt like the world was falling apart around them.

Mike ended up sweet talking one of the nurses into letting Richie see Eddie. He was given a five-minute window, which seemed cruel for a man who watched his lover died.

He laid on the slab completely still, eyes still wide open as he looked out over nothing. They washed away the blood, though the bruises still remained. There was no point in stitching him up, leaving the wound open on his cheese.

There was no denying it anymore. He wasn’t just frozen in the moment or in a vegetative state. Eddie Kaspbrak was dead and there was no going back.

Richie could only apologize so many times but he’d go on and on for as long as it took. He was so fucking sorry. Sorry that he let Penny fall from the window. Sorry that he fought with his mother to the point where she didn’t want him at her house. Sorry that he bothered to propose in public in such a fucked uptown.

Richie was just so fucking sorry.

All their plans were gone. All their hopes were gone. Eddie was gone.

But he didn’t have to be.

In the darkest part of Richie’s mind, he knew there had to be a way it would work. It worked on a dog, so why not a man? Anything was possible, right? And if it didn’t work, then at least then he would know and he could have closure. If it didn’t work then he’d confess to everything and they’d bury Eddie for real. They’d give him a proper burial and his mom would have Richie even more but that was fine.

It was worth a shot.

Stealing a body from a hospital wasn’t easy and he didn’t really know what to do once he slipped through the back door. He carried Eddie, wrapped up in the sheet from the hospital, all the way to the area that Mike had first taken him too. Richie had never been very strong, but he found the strength to take Eddie all the way up there.

He walked down the path and up the hill. He went passed the dead animals and into the circle. He found a place right in the middle and started digging. He dug, and dug, and dug until there was nothing left but a gaping hole.

He pulled Eddie into it, holding him for just a moment longer.

“Come back to me,” He muttered, laying him down in the dirt. “You fucking come back to me, you understand?”

Pulling himself out of the hole, Richie pushed all the dirt back on until Eddie was completely covered. Lightening light up the sky and rain began to fall down, though he carried on until the hole was complete. He walked back down the trail in a trance, stopping only when he found Mike at the bottom.

“I couldn’t find you,” Mike said, his voice low and shaking. He looked over Richie, seeing the dirt on his clothes and on his hands. “I couldn’t find you and I knew. Richie . . . whatever you did-”

“It’s done,” Richie told him simply, pushing passed him to continue ongoing down the lane.

“Whatever you think you did, it won’t work. Whatever returns to you, it won’t be Eddie!” Mike warned. He reached back, grabbing Richie’s arm to stop him from walking. “My grandfather had a friend, Rich. His son died overseas and he was so desperate to have him back-”

“It’s done, Mike!” Richie shouted to him, pushing him off. “The law won’t do anything, what other choice did I have?!”

Nobody would listen to Richie, nobody cared about what he had to say. He was just another gay man. Useless and pathetic. Wanting all the attention. There was no way they would believe him if he tried to bring this to outside police or even to court. An off duty police officer vs a homosexual.

There would have been proof. They found the knife that was plunged into Eddie’s cheek; it had the initials of Bower's father along the body of it. And it wasn’t like Richie could kick the shit out of himself and Eddie and still have the strength to push him over the bridge.

All the proof was there, but they still wouldn’t listen. Richie, in his desperation and depression, saw no real solution to this problem.

“Using a fucking Native American burial ground should have never been a choice!” Mike insisted.

“You showed it to be in the first place.”

“For your dog! Not your boyfriend!”

Richie’s eyes glazed over, his head shaking as his glasses became fogged up from the rain. “Eddie will come back. Just like Penny did.”

“It won’t end well, Richie,” Mike warned, but the other man wasn’t listening.

He just kept walking down the lane, all the way back to the townhouse.

#Pet Semetary #REDDIE #Reddie Au #Richie Tozier #Eddie Kaspbrak #Mike Hanlon #Henry Bowers

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thecomicsnexus · 5 years ago

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TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES #38-40 JULY - OCTOBER 1990 BY RICH HEDDEN AND TOM MCWEENEY. ADDITIONAL STORY BY BEN CRAYFORD AND MIKE LIBBY.

SYNOPSIS (FROM TURTLEPEDIA)

Two crazed aliens enter Earth airspace and send the U.S. military into a frenzy. Meanwhile, Raph is up late watching TV when he gets a stomach ache. Remembering that Splinter had advised the Turtle teens to drink warm milk when suffering from acid indigestion, Raphael heads to the 'fridge - only to discover that there's no milk!

Fortunately, everyone is at Casey's farm in Northampton, Massachusetts, so Raph heads outside to milk Bessy the cow. Once he's outside, both the Turtle and the bovine are abducted by the aliens while everyone else is sleeping comfortably.

Inside the spaceship, we find Raph and Bessy clamped to a specimen table. It seems that the aliens plan to use their Atomic Interrogator machine to probe the minds of their captives, a process that will render their minds into mush. Fortunately the spacemen are inept, and they end up freeing Raph and the cow when they try to start the apparatus. Raphael leaps into action and subdues the blundering aliens, who tell him a sob story about how all they wanted to do was conquer Earth to satisfy the pledge demands of their fraternity. Raph joins them in their tears.

By now the armed forces have sent out planes to intercept the U.F.O., and while Raph enjoys a sauna with his newfound companions, the jets prepare to attack.

Just in the nick of time, the space dudes manage to steer the ship clear of the assault and escape... only to run out of gas and begin a swift plummet to the waiting earth below.

The spacecraft crash lands on a farm, relatively unscathed. The aliens burst out of the ship, prepared to take over the world (one armed with a photon pistol, the other with a video camera). Raph eventually stumbles out of the ship, dazed and confused. Bessy the cow also emerges, and she is quickly romanced by the farm's bull.

Meanwhile, the military has deciphered the exact location of the crash and sends its men to the scene.

Raphael grows weary of the aliens lame attempts to conquer the planet and smashes their camera in a fit of rage.

The local townsfolk hear of the crash and alien invasion at a town meeting. Everyone panics, but since they don't have any cars to flee the area, they're forced to mill about town.

Raphael decides to hitchhike back to Casey's farm, so naturally he dons a dress and heels in the attempt to entice a local into giving him a ride. In no time at all, a pickup truck stops and Raph is on his way - but so are the aliens, as they decide to stowaway in the back of the vehicle.

Back at the crash site, the farmer, his wife and their dog go into the spaceship to investigate. Unfortunately for them, as they're exiting the empty craft the Army arrives and mistakes them for the alien invaders... and thus the farmer and his kin are taken into captivity.

Meanwhile things are getting heated in the pick up truck - the driver is attempting to smooch Raphael! As Raph struggles with the huge trucker, the two aliens assume control of the truck... sending it careening out of control... right into the local downtown where everyone is milling about!

The townspeople freak out when they see the alien-driven pick up truck approaching them at breakneck speed. Eventually the spacemen hit the brakes, sending Raph and the driver flying through the windshield and into a nearby comic shop. The aliens then vacate the vehicle and are quickly met by the sheriff. The armed visitor fires a shot at the lawman, but it bounces off of his badge and hits the photon pistol, destroying it and dazing the aliens. As they sit in a stupor, the space dudes are set upon by the locals.

Raph and the trucker are inside the comic shop, enjoying some mutant books. Raphael hears the aliens crying for help, and debates on whether or not he should bother. After a short inner debate, the Turtle heads out to lend a hand. Raph gives a long winded speech about how the people of Earth should welcome their visitors, and everyone falls asleep. This gives Raphael the opportunity to grab the space dudes and beat feet. While they're running off, they spot the spaceship being carried off by a military helicopter... so the unlikely trio jump back into the pickup truck and set off in hot pursuit.

The chase leads Raph and his allies to a local military base, where the craft and the farmer's clan are being held. The Turtle and aliens crash through a wall and demand fuel for their ship and "total domination of the Earth." The frightened government officials agree to give them the fuel, but refuse to grant the aliens control of the planet... and the pair quickly erupt into tears... until one agent offers them Idaho. Thus the deal is done!

Happy with their conquest of Idaho and armed with a full tank of gas, the aliens take off in their ship, Raphael in tow. The spacemen teleport Raph back to his bedroom, and the Turtle gratefully prepares for a long sleep - until he's immediately knocked on the head by Splinter's cane, as the enraged Sensei screams at Raph to get his lazy butt out of bed and outside to milk Bessy.

Meanwhile, Bessy and the farmer's bull enjoy a romantic sunrise.

REVIEW

I don’t have to clarify that this story is not canon, it is pretty obvious.

It is strange that three issues of this series were dedicated to this off-beat adventure, but the alternative was probably four months without new stories, so I guess it’s fine.

This story reminds me a lot of the style of underground comixs. A more relatable comparison would be MAD Magazine. There are so many references crammed in the pages, it is probably one of the best things about this story.

The story is funny and non-nonsensical... in a world where we have four ninja turtles and a ninja rat that taught them all they know, of course.

It’s not like you “have” to read this story, but it is a nice waste of time, in a good way.

The extra story at the end of issue 40 reminded me of a time where TMNT rip offs would show up anywhere (I am looking at you Biking Mice From Mars). Really fits the tone of the main story.

I give this story a score of 8.

#rich hedden #tom mcweeney #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #mirage studios #comics #review #1991 #modern age #indie #comix

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lazycollectionofcoffee · 6 years ago

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Stranger Things 3 Rambles

What we know so far from season 2

At the end of season two we see El closing the gate. We are told that she will have to wait another year before coming out of hiding. Sam Owens gives Hopper El’s birth certificate which declares him as the father. Nancy and Jonathan are together, which means poor Steve is left alone. The lab is closed down, and Murray Buaman knows a good portion of the truth.

Of course Will is okay, and the Duffers have said that they will be lying off his character so he doesn’t suffer as much in season three. I think we can also safely assume that Max and Lucas are still going strong after their cute kiss at the end of season 2 along with Mike and Eleven.

What we’ve been told

We have been told a few times that this season is not only taking place in the summer of 1985, but I will have a Back to The Future influence. We will also be getting a lot of summer love and romance. I can’t wait to see what they do with all the little ships and how they are going to grow some of the friendships. We also know that it will revolve around July 4th that is pretty much a dead giveaway. For anyone who is familiar or aware of the significance of July 4th, it is an American holiday.

We have heard Noah Schnapp mention “It’s spreading” again, and I can’t wait to see how they bring that into the story. I would like to think it has to do with the red vines shown in the poster given to us on New Year’s, and it probably has to do with the rats as well since they are a species known to spread disease.

We also know that the mall is going to have great significance in the story line. Star Court mall is going to be the center of whatever is happening this season.

We also have the kids growing up so it’s going to be interesting to see how they bring in the coming of age vibes, and how they are going to show the angst and pain of being a teenager.

Now for what we see

The trailer starts off great. We have the entire party back together, and even though Lucas gets blinded by hair spray I think it’s safe to say that they are all relatively happy. Their choice of Baba O’Riley or Teenage Waste Land as people tend to call it by The Who is brilliant, and I don’t think they could have picked a better song to go with the trailer and overall theme of what is being shown.

I first want to focus on the big antenna that is erected by the party on the grass hill. My thoughts go back to A.V. club. I would like to think they are trying their hand of maybe building their own radio; trying to see how far they can get their radio waves to go with a hand built antenna. I think this could play a big role in government spying, and or listening in to what they are messing with. I also think of alien communication. Even now people still use large ground sidelights and antennas to try and find weird alien radio waves in space. This could also be used for alternate realities or dimensions. It also reminds me of the antenna from E.T. I could be digging too deep into it, but I thought that this was really interesting and I can’t wait to see what they do with it.

Side note: when they are raising it, it looks like the rising of the American flag. Here’s a picture for reference.

I also found it cool that Mike and Eleven weren’t there when they were putting it up. Maybe they snuck away to have their own time. If you guys follow me you know I’m all about the Mileven vibes so I can’t wait to see what that’s all about. I will of course talk more about them further down this thread.

Hawkins Post

I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what Nancy and Jonathan are up to. When it came to season two I never saw them trying to expose the lab, it was a surprise to me. My guess is that they are just trying to get a summer job, but they end up uncover something they didn’t mean to find out. Maybe something to do with the mayor and his relationship to the lab or just something that happens with the upside down. We do get like a one second clip of Murray toward the end, so maybe they are working together again.

We do know that they said one of the new characters is going to be a journalist so I guess we will see how that goes, and what happens with them.

Let’s talk about Billy for a moment

I’m actually a really big fan of Billy. I wrote a post about him months ago, you can find that here if you’re interested. Now I don’t condone his actions, but I’m all about that human antagonist, and I really hope he gets a small redemption ark, but I don’t think that’s happening. It’s clear to see that in the trailer he is a life guard. Episode three is titled “The Case of the Missing Lifeguard”, he also has some weird infection on his arm. This leads me to believe that he is the lifeguard that goes missing. This infection could also make him go a little crazy meaning he could have done something to the girl lifeguard we see him looking at.

I’m one of those weird people that wants to know if something happens between him and Karen. It’s such a real life situation and I really like that they don’t stray away from those real life stories. We didn’t really see Mike’s family, but I hope they make a good appearance in the show.

Hopper and Joyce

Jopper is end game; I don’t care what anyone says. I want to know if he asked Joyce to dinner and she didn’t show and that’s why he’s alone at the nice restaurant. His speech of wanting her feel safe is interesting too. It’s like he’s trying to tell her that he wants her to stay, like maybe Joyce was thinking of leaving Hawkins after everything that’s happened. I could see this happen since in season two Bob brings up moving out of Hawkins with her and the boys. I’m sure she wants to leave all those bad memories behind and get Will out of that environment too. She probably still dealing with Bob’s death and finds it easier to just leave.

We didn’t see much Joyce in the trailer and I really want to know what they do with her character. I’m sure she’s going to have a lot of ptsd like she did in season two. We are told in season one that she always had issues with anxiety so I can’t wait to see what they do with that.

Coming Of Age

I am interested in seeing who Mike is talking to when he talks about not being kids anymore. At first I was like, “is he talking to Will” and then I thought that he would never talk to Will with aggression like that. Maybe he’s talking to Dustin, or he could be talking to his mom. Maybe she doesn’t like how fast he’s growing up and this is what he tells her. I mean, it’s clear to see that this isn’t just the kids being kids anymore. I kind of want to hear your guys take on these kids getting older. For me it really just makes me happy. This is bringing me back to my years as a teenager and is giving me serous vibes right now. I totally get that feeling of what it’s like to be in that age of not being a kid, but not being an adult either. I’m sure there is going to be a lot of angst that can tie into that.

Will

*sigh* they tell us that they won’t be putting Will through a lot and then we get this trailer. It’s clear that he isn’t emotionally there. I think it might have a lot to do with Joyce and her wanting to move (if that is what’s happening). I don’t think he wanted to leave his friends behind, but he might also feel like they have already left him behind. Mike has El, Lucas has Max, and Dustin has Steve. Who does that leave for Will? The poor guy just can’t catch a break and it makes me so sad. He’s already missed so much because of everything that he’s been through that I think he isn’t ready to leave his childhood behind.

Guy With The Gun

At first I thought the guy in the mirror maze was after Hopper. And then I really started to think. The kids are probably at the Fun Fair, they are probably in that mirror maze. I think he might be after El and if someone gets in the way he’s going to kill them. I think Hopper is there trying to keep them safe. Maybe he wants to kill El, maybe he wants to kill someone else, but he does have a silencer on that gun so he is ready to shoot.

He looks special opps so we’ll see.

Erica

She back! I’m so freaking excited. Seeing her crawling through the air ducks freaks me out, I don’t want her to get hurt. We see a second of her with Steve, Dustin, and Robin and I’m here for this. I don’t know I just had to gush over it because I love her character and I can’t want to see how they develop her.

Mr. Mayor

I’m going to say a no to this guy. I think he’s hiding something and I don’t like it. I feel like he might have known what was going on at the lab, and he’s trying to sweep it under the rug. It’s too early to tell, but there is no trust.

Cary Elwse playing him is exciting though. I love Princess Bride and I also love him is Psych so I’m so happy that he is a part of this show.

El and Max

I’m so happy! I think this is the friendship we have all been waiting for. I love the scene with them in the mall, and I also love the picture of them eating ice cream on what looks like a bus.

Forget Mike and Lucas. These girls are goals for sure.

Ugh!!! El has freedom and I’m living for it. To see them getting along and to have this friendship that every teenage girl dreams of is just great. I’m thriving.

Teenage Romance

Can we just talk about the fact that Mike and El are that couple. They are holding hands and just staying close. I just don’t even know what to say about this. I’m thinking about writing it on a separate post, along with lumax because this is just so exciting.

This poor girl. She looks so happy at the beginning and it so obvious it’s going to fall apart. There is a part when she is in the void, it looks like she was in the tub or she falls through the tub. I wonder if she tries to use water again to help her really figure out what’s going on. There’s also a part where it looks like she’s falling and reaching for help. *sigh* this poor girl. I’m so scared she is going to be taken away by the end of the season. I don’t know, let’s see what happens.

Guys, there is so much I didn’t touch on, but these are the things that really made me think. What do you guys think? What’s your opinion? I know a lot of this is going to change as I continue to watch the trailer and they begin to release more stuff.

I will say they did great on not really touching on the story line. A lot of trailers these days just give everything away and I love that they didn’t really give us much even though it was like 2 minutes of pure fuel.

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jennygoeseastbay · 6 years ago

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2018 in Review

So I used to do one of these every year on my Livejournal, and I completely blew it off in 2017 because I kind of abandoned that medium, and because the last month of that year was complete consumed with packing and moving. I’m not entirely certain I want to get more active on here, but for now this is a good place for me to post this, simply to have the written record of my existence that I need in order to process all that has happened and reflect on how it has helped me to grow and improve as a person. If I’m feeling really ambitious, I might even backtrack and do one for 2017 next week, because I like to be complete in my self-documentation. ;)

01. What did you do in 2018 that you'd never done before? Visited Washington DC for the first time.

Visited the Los Cabos region of Mexico for the first time.

Closed a major gift from someone who had not already had decades of cultivation from their University.

Visited even more areas of California that were new to me, including Anaheim, Santa Barbara, Santa Maria, Pismo Beach, Paso Robles, and Lake Tahoe (I guess that also includes Nevada since we stayed in Carson City)

Visited Ashland Oregon for the first time.

Sold a piece of real estate. Phew!

Practiced Yin Yoga. (And walking meditation!)

Engaged in a yoga hike!

Also tried yoga with goats!

Attended WonderCon

Attended a county fair.

Road a bicycle somewhere other than a residential street

Tried kayaking

Ran a trail run race

02. Did you keep your New Years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I never really make concrete resolutions, just some general proclamations about eating better, and putting more time into fitness and writing. Of these three things, the one I was most successful at this year, surprisingly enough, was eating better. In September I realized that it was time for a physical tune-up, and so I rejoined WW after a long time away, and though I still have a few pounds to go, I’ve been happy to have gotten a bit sleeker after dialing back the bread and cheese. I also attended a writing group called Shut Up and Write a couple times, and I’d like to become more of a regular at their cafe sessions in 2019, because I’ve found that their method (literally a concentrated hour of shutting up and writing) has been helpful the two times I’ve gone.

03. Did anyone close to you give birth? My dear friends Drew and Kelly had their first child in September. And my friend Lynn had her second child, a little girl, just a couple weeks ago. 04. Did anyone close to you die? Not super close, but a professor at UC Davis who I had worked with closely, passed very unexpectedly right before Halloween. 05. What countries did you visit? Mexico! Finally broke in my current passport with a new stamp! 06. What would you like to have in 2019 that you lacked in 2018? Good novel progress. Or more discipline on some other fiction and an essay that I just started tinkering with. A legit boyfriend. 07. What date(s) from 2018 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

January 2 was my first day on the job at UC Davis.

January 7 was a super fun evening at the Museum of Ice Cream in SF

January 13-15 was a wonderful weekend in Seattle where I got to meet my nephew Apollo for the first time and photograph his first swimming lesson for his parents.

January 20 was my second Women’s March outing in Sac with my friend Jade and her little ones.

January 27 was a day when I got to play tour guide for my friend Gricel and her husband when they were in SF visiting for the first time.

Feb. 10 and 11 was a fun weekend in Berkeley and SF, being silly and singing loudly with my former Cal colleagues who had become dear friends.

March 23-25 Was my whirlwind Anaheim weekend at Wondercon, and I got to catch up with my friend Mike, whom I’d not seen in a couple years.

March 30-April 1 was an epic road trip weekend, the first of what my friend Maya and I now call our Girls Gone Sensibly Wild excursions. We drove to Santa Barbara and visited the deserted UC campus there (it was closed for spring break) and also enjoyed an amazing live show featuring Dave Hause, Dan Andriano, and Cory Branan, among others at the Cold Spring Tavern. And then got a joint membership at Peachy Canyon Winery on our way back, because it was one of the few establishments open on Easter Sunday.

April 22 was Earth Day, and prompted me to venture out to Marin for an impromptu yoga hike at Rodeo Beach.

May 14 was my first appointment with a new hair stylist who would also unexpectedly become a trusted friend.

May 24 was my first time seeing Depeche Mode live, and it was incredible.

June 8-10 was my second of two hit it and quit it Chicago trips (although really, the first one wasn’t so much Chicago as it was Joliet) this year, and allowed me to reconnect with my dear friends Drew and Kelly (Drew finished his PhD at UChicago and I attended his commencement and hooding), have a day at the zoo with my friend Dawn, and also road trip to WI with my friend Mary for a beautiful and moving Lights Festival experience together.

June 30 was the day I attended my first ever CalShakes performance with Maya and our mutual friend Paola (Girls Gone Sensibly Wild continued!), and Maya also got me on a bike for the first time in ages, thanks to LimeBikes being available at the Pleasant Hill BART station. We took a short, wobbly, but fun ride down the Iron Horse Trail.

July 1 was the day I learned to kayak and surprisingly got myself through 5 miles of the Russian River without tipping over or running out of steam.

July 26 saw me reuniting with my dear pals Shannon and Glenn, when they were visiting the Sac area for a wedding.

July 27-29 was the weekend I drove up to Ashland to enjoy some time with my friend Debbie and to experience the Oregon Shakespeare Festival for the first time.

August 3-6 was when I somewhat unexpectedly had the delight of hosting my friend Clarise for a weekend visit. We drove down to Pacifica for the International Dog Surfing competition and I schooled her in the ways of California wine as much as I could with my limited knowledge.

The following weekend, August 9-13, I had a lovely time hosting and touring around with my 16 year old niece, and got to introduce her to the joy that is Santa Cruz. And yoga with goats!

August 30-Sept. 4 was when I hosted (this is a recurring theme in August, isn’t it?) my Aunt Sherrie for local sightseeing and a road trip up to Lake Tahoe.

Sept. 22-24 saw me heading down to L.A. for my cousin Katie’s wedding and some work meetings. It was the first time in ages that I got to connect with that specific branch of my family, and get to know them a bit better.

Sept. 29 was my first AFSP walk in Sac. And i was joined by Jade, her visiting mom, and her three little ones.

Sept. 30 was the really long hair session with Mason that helped solidify that we were legit friends (and included a shared sunset from the window of his hair studio!) and a quick follow up appointment on Oct. 3 allowed us to enjoy a rainbow and storm together.

Oct. 19-21 saw Maya and I doing another Girls Gone Sensibly Wild road trip. Back to Peachy Canyon to pick up some wine, and also Pismo Beach and Santa Maria for our first visit to a really lovely winery called Foxen.

Oct. 26 was quite possibly my all-time favorite Brian Fallon performance. It was just him alternating between his acoustic guitar and an electric piano, and he was joined by Craig Finn from The Hold Steady, who also did his own acoustic set.

Oct. 27 I got to introduce my new friend Torrey to the Old Sugar Mill in Clarksburg, and we did a fun wine and Halloween candy pairing and some epic day drinking.

Nov. 3 saw me reuniting with my Cal crew and a sprinkling of East Bay friends at Fillmore Karaoke, for an epic night of loud singing as an early celebration of my 40th bday. So much wine. Actually too much, but for a birthday, that’s acceptable!

Nov. 4-6 I was in Indianapolis for work, and though the work part wasn’t particularly memorable, I was super honored and thrilled that my BFF Dawn drove all the way down from Joliet IL with her two boys to have dinner with me on my first night there.

Nov. 9 was an epic Local H show in Sac. Also a welcome break in the midst of a period of forced solitude, after the Camp Fire residual smoke prompted my whole office to work from home for about a week to protect us from the terrible air quality.

Nov. 18 was the day we had the beautiful service honoring the life of a beloved professor who passed.

Nov. 24-29 was my trip to Cabo with my Aunt Sherrie, and was also my official bday celebration.

Dec. 9-12 was my DC trip, which also allowed me to catch up with my friend Max, who lives in Baltimore, and my friend Stacey, who also happened to be there for her own work purposes.

Dec. 15 was my full day of yoga retreating at Green Gulch Ranch in Marin, and then I drove to the East Bay to catch up with Maya at Calicraft, which is one of our favorite craft distilleries in the area.

Dec. 16 was a white elephant celebration in Pleasant Hill that allowed me to unexpectedly meet a new, interesting friend.

08. What was your biggest achievement of the year? So far, meeting all expectations at my new job and closing a major gift earlier than is required. Also not losing my shit during the condo selling process, even though there were a lot of reasons to do so.

09. What was your biggest failure? I wrote VERY little fiction. But I did dip my toe back into writing in general, so I guess there’s that. 10. Did you suffer illness or injury? I took a tumble at home that left my tailbone a bit tender about a month ago. But otherwise, no, pretty healthy, even after getting rear-ended in my car! 11. What was the best thing you bought? Various travel tickets, both air and rail. A beautiful new necklace that I found at the holiday market in D.C. All the concert tickets that provided soul-fueling live music.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

Mine! I adjusted to a new job and an unfamiliar setting and managed to acquire a few new friends while also maintaining the East Bay friendships that meant the most to me. 13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Who else but certain immediate family members? 14. Where did most of your money go? Rent. Travel. Wine, and to a lesser extent, craft beer, now that I’ve picked up a taste for stouts and sours. 15. What song will always remind you of 2018?

Anything off of Sleepwalkers by Brian Fallon

Anything off of Be More Kind by Frank Turner

Chariot by Gavin DeGraw

Tall Green Grass by Cory Branan

16. Compared to this time last year, you are: Thinner and sleeker, weight-wise

More willing to make room for others and open my life and space to them (friend and lover both) Still as sleep-deprived as ever 17. What do you wish you'd done more of? Novel writing, as always. Flirting. And kissing. 18. What do you wish you'd done less of? Angsting over adulting-related things that were either beyond my control or that ended up working out just as they should.

19. How will you be spending/did you spend Christmas?

I’m driving to Santa Cruz on Xmas Eve and treating myself to an overnight stay so that I can indulge in my happy place and a sunset hike. Also get to celebrate Boxing Day for the first time with my friend Jade and her brood back in Sac.

20. How will you be spending/did you spend New Year’s Eve? Original plan was to hang at my friend Jade’s place with her kids, movies and snacks. But just learned the wee ones are ill, so now I’m not sure what I’m doing. That was how I spent last year (the original plan, that is), with the main difference being that last year I also went to a two-hour yin workshop beforehand, which was how I discovered my current yoga studio, and discovered how much I enjoy yin practice in general. 21. Did you fall in love in 2018?

No. But I made more effort to pursue it, and had more options than I think I’ve ever had in a single year. Which was kind of encouraging even if each one was relatively short-lived.

22. How many one-night stands? I always laugh when I read this question. How about I just wink knowingly and say a lady never tells? 23. What was your favorite TV program? Supernatural. iZombie. To a lesser extent, Riverdale, even though I’m still pretty behind on that one. Sons of Anarchy (which I know is old but I’m playing catchup via Netflix and Hulu) And as a guilty pleasure, Total Divas. And of course, I'm still casually following WWE on the WWE network, though the only thing I’m finding compelling aside from the women’s matches are the Brits featured on the UK specific programming. 24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? No, I don't think so. 25. What was the best book you read? I finally got into the Harry Potter series and I’m really enjoying it. I just finished the Order of the Phoenix, and have the next installment requested from the library. 26. What was your greatest musical discovery? Not entirely new, but my appreciation for Cory Branan was reinforced and amplified after seeing him in Santa Barbara. And I’m also on a rediscovery tear with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and the Cold War Kids.

27. What did you want and get? Reassurance that this move to Sac was the right next step, after I settled in to my new role relatively easily. 28. What did you want and not get? Romantic love for an extended period. More down time. 29. What was your favorite film(s) of this year? Bohemian Rhapsody, even though I know it had some historical inaccuracies.

A Quiet Place was hard because of the ending, but decent as well.

And the latest Halloween was hella satisfying, especially since I caught it after needing an escape after learning about the passing of the professor I mentioned earlier.

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I prepped for my Cabo departure, went exploring at the Cosumnes River Trail, which is also a bird sanctuary, and caught the movie Widows with my work friend Christine. Then she took me to Panera for dinner. Couldnt’ do much more than that since I had a 5 am flight the following morning. I turned 40.

31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Love, as always. 32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2018? Activewear as much as possible. But never enough. 33. What kept you sane? My friends. The various trips I took and rock shows I attended. Junk food. Wandering in nature.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Jensen Ackles. Tom Hiddleston. Charlie Hunnan. Idris Elba. My taste doesn't change much. 35. Who did you miss? Dawn. Becca. Kelly and Drew. Stephanie and Scott. Rob. Elspeth. Mike K. Jason. 36. Who was the best new person you met?

Ellen

Mason

Torrey

Anthony

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2018 Never underestimate my own ability to adapt to new situations, and to handle my own shit like a boss. I had a few challenging things thrown at me, namely the condo selling process, and the logistical gymnastics that followed after having to bring my car in for a bumper repair following a recent rear-ending, and though I felt tested by both of those situations, I ultimately succeeded at navigating both of them to a positive end.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

I’m always starting over....

I don’t wanna waste the nights in my life

But I never fit in, or felt home in my skin.

I’m waiting on a big love, baby.

--Brian Fallon, “Her Majesty’s Service”

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1whimsicalgal · 4 years ago

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Michael

Michael Terry McMinn July 25, 1949 - June 1, 1955

It was this week in 1955 that my beautiful young brother, Michael Terry McMinn passed away. He was six years old, mischievous, adorable, and he had a wonderful sense of humor. Michael made friends easily, and adults, children, everyone loved him. Pictured here, on his first day of school, he wears his white shirt, a white undershirt, khaki pants, and penny loafers. In hand, he carries his Indian Chief tablet and Roy Rogers lunchbox. He loved Roy Rogers. Mike went to the first grade for a total of six short weeks. When he wasn't too sick, we played together in, around, and under a tall, gigantic, very old willow tree. The base was six to seven feet in diameter and stood some fifty to sixty feet high. How we all loved that tree! Her limbs stretched far out across our property. Michael and I climbed in it all the days we were together, along with our neighborhood best pals and cousins, Bill and Debbie Eckhert. They were both our exact same ages, and also brother and sister. We spent all our days busily going back and forth between our two homes set a hundred yards apart, across a vacant field. Games and pretend went on until the sun went down, then we were back early the next morning, knocking on one another's doors.

When I entered high school drama class in 1967, my acting coach, Sally Barbay, gave me Robert Frost's poem, "Wild Grapes." Together, Miss Barbay and I prepared for my first competitions that I would attend later that year. We worked hard, going over posture, eye contact, pauses, emphasis, meaning, until I was finally ready. She could be brutal, but earning her pleased smile was joy, and finally, I wore the poem well. As good fortune would have it, I went on to win many first places in UIL Poetry Reading Competitions with Wild Grapes. It seemed to fit like a glove. In the intervening years since Mike had died, I had worked hard to disengage myself from the pain of his loss to our small family. It was the only way to survive and move on, but of course, it never truly left me. I learned to put things in certain drawers and to open them only when I had to.

Looking back I always wondered how Miss Barbay had chosen that particular poem for me. She knew nothing of Michael, his 6 years of suffering, nothing of his death from Cystic Fibrosis, or of our older brother, Curtis', who had died at eleven months before Mike was even conceived. She had no idea of the effects on our family. To read the words, it was absolutely uncanny how closely aligned the poem was to Mike's and my story. In reflection, it was oddly serendipitous that I should be gifted with those lovely words. Over the years since I have come to believe that it was my brother somehow speaking to me. Whether it's true or not doesn't matter. It's real to me. It had to be. I was comforted to know he had always remained right by my side. After his death, adults in my family dismissed the feelings a small child of only four could possibly have. I avoided mentioning him to anyone. Their own pain was so great, I wanted to protect them. It wasn't malicious on their part, or even intentional, but just the way adults felt about children in those days. My mother talked about it all the time, year in and year out. For me, it was a secret bond I knew existed between Mike and I. I felt our bond so deeply. Michael and I had been very close, together every single day and night, sleeping maybe ten to twelve feet apart. Then, suddenly one day he was no longer there, and he never returned home again. Grief worked on all of us equally. Each of us was an open wound for so many years. I am still haunted by the fact that several people told me that Mike knew he was sick and going to die and that he talked about his impending death. A six-year-old... it makes me weep.

Cystic Fibrosis is a disease that attacks the lungs and pancreas, and at that time it was ranked the number two cause of death in children after polio. It is passed on through the combined genes of both parents, and until the late 1980s early '90's considered 'incurable.' Simply put, the CF child's body lacks the enzyme to break food down and retain nutrients, therefore they essentially suffer from malnutrition. "The hallmark signs and symptoms of cystic fibrosis are salty tasting skin, poor growth and poor weight gain despite a normal food intake, accumulation of thick, sticky mucus, frequent chest infections, and coughing or shortness of breath." (Wiki) In the final stages, they can't breathe. Frantic, my parents searched every possible avenue for information. A chiropractor told my parents he believed diet was an element that should be examined and suggested they try feeding him bananas. So they did, as many as he would eat. For a couple of months, he seemed to improve, then he was down again, and it was bad. Worst of all, the doctors chastised my parents for listening to a 'chiropractor.' In those days, doctors poo-pooed all chiropractors completely and unequivocally. It would be decades after Mike died that researchers discovered beneficial drugs, or that the AMA finally admitted what many had suspected for years, that certain foods enhanced their ability to process food, retain nutrients, and keep them alive.

When parents lose a child, there is a great amount of guilt and blame that most often occurs. As a child, my mother convinced me that I, too, had been 'born with CF,' even though I had never been diagnosed and that by putting me on a 'special diet,' she had 'cured' me. She repeated the story over and over, not only to me but to any adults who came over to visit. Her grief and guilt were so immense, that for her sake, I felt I had to believe her. I had no choice but to believe her, and therefore I blocked off any questions that might refute this. As I came into my teen years, I was convinced I carried the deadly gene, and I was petrified. Years passed.

At some point in my early thirties, I began to do my own research. I found that medical evidence didn't support the story. At thirty, I went into intensive therapy, and for almost five years I began to delve. I contacted many sources, one was our childhood pediatrician in Houston, who knew our family history well. I was told, "You never had CF, never." Still, chances were that I carried the gene, since both my parents carried it. Unlike many genetic diseases, it takes both the mother and the father's genes with CF. In late '88, '89, a doctor told me they had located the gene, but the test for it was not yet available. I freely admit I spent years in confusion and anger. My dad was circumspect about ever talking of Mike to me or anyone, and he never knew what I'd been led to believe. We never discussed it until just before he passed when I was 34. It had been quite a journey for all of us.

I was to remember Mike's and my bond as time passed, but I remained essentially silent to most everyone around me. I quietly guarded the fact I probably carried the gene and my memories of Mike. The pictures and memories were all I had of him, and much too painful to share. Fortunately, now, with each year I feel closer to him. I continue to hold the essence of his memory in my heart. I love to look at his pictures, devour them, and when I do, I feel he was truly the most beautiful little boy I may have ever seen. Yes, I'm prejudiced. I know innately that he watched over me as best he could, for as long as he could. I can still hear him when I was up in that willow tree, telling me to hold on tight, "Hold on," as day after day I climbed out further and further, testing my limits, going out to the very end of the long limbs of that gigantic tree. And, with each foray, he would finally stand below and tell me to let go. "Let go, Sissie, let go! I'll catch you." And, finally, he would convince me. I would drop to the ground just as he told me to do, and I would be intact, exhilarated, and fully alive. I was happy to realize "Wild Grapes" somehow belonged to us, and that for me, it will forever. It is a lovely and haunting metaphor for the brief 4 years we spent together. My brother, Michael Terry McMinn 1949- 1955, words cannot fully express how deeply beloved he was, or how precious to all those who had the joy of knowing him. Gone but never forgotten are not empty words to me.

~~ By: Teri McMinn © Wild Grapes by Robert Frost -

http://glenavalon.com/wildgrapes.html

To learn more about Cystic Fibrosis: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cystic_fibrosis

Teri McMinn

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agapeeternal · 7 years ago

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I’m

Chester Bennington’s suicide has made me think a lot about my own attempts in the past.

Like a lot of people who gravitated to Linkin Park, and Chester in particular, I suffered from undiagnosed depression and suicidal ideation as a child. I had abuse in my childhood from a family member (though not to Chester’s degree). I never told anyone, because I was scared no one would believe me, so I held it in.

School was a hell I had to endure every day until the middle of 8th grade, when my depression spiraled. Years of bullying and not understanding why things were so hard for me study wise, I lost it. That was my first serious suicide attempt. I took a whole bottle of prescription strength ibuprofen and waited. I’m not sure if I passed out or if I just fell asleep, but I woke up and projectile vomited all over my bed. I didn’t feel that shame or the thankfulness that I had survived. I was pissed. I was pissed because not only did this not work, but now I had to completely strip my bed and throw everything into the tub until I could put it in the washer later. I ended up staying home from school that day, I mean, I was “sick”. It took an assembly about bullying and mental illness that happened at our school, a skit performed by a traveling anti-bullying project, to admit to my parents that I was depressed. But there was nothing I could do about it. I didn’t think at the time.

My depression didn’t get any better, it just got worse. Some odd happenings went on in school which included an absolutely outrageous suspension and a teacher who hated the shit out of me because she got caught in a lie. And that was the point that I left public school and went into independent study. I actually loved it; for once school wasn’t hell, it was just challenging. But the help I got there as well as the help I got from my family, it worked great. Sure, I still had to do summer school every year, but it wasn’t that bad. I thought, “I can do this now, I’m ready.” So, I tried high school, but three months later I was back in independent study.

I thought I was prepared to handle the demands of a 6 period day, and maybe actually make friend’s, or at least catch up with the people I had hung out with since first grade. But I wasn’t. The reaction I got after returning was less like “girl where have you been?! We kinda missed you.” and was more like “oh you’re back? Wow. Okay. Hi. I guess.” That combined with the depression that never really left, and how exhausting going to class was, I couldn’t do it. I failed at trying to come back and experience high school. People who I had known called a few times, offering to take me to football games or other things, since being in independent study allowed me to have a parent school and all activities and classes were open to me. But somehow they neglected to tell me that they couldn’t go or changed plans until minutes before the events happened. And those were the times I wished I hadn’t survived. I hated feeling disposable, I hated feeling like no one cared about me. And they didn’t. I meant absolutely nothing to them, at least nothing more than birthday cupcakes and valentines cards and field trips when we were in grade school that my mom would help give kids that couldn’t afford it. But after grade school, I wasn’t worth anything, and it stung. But I tried to shove that down, along with everything else, and just concentrate on school. I managed to graduate on time with a 4.0 and walk with my class. It was bittersweet, but at least that was done.

All that was okay, I even managed to hold a job until after I graduated. I took a semester off and when I started college, things went sideways on me, as it usually does when mental illness rears its ugly head, and that led, eventually, to more self-harm and finally, to therapy. By the end of my first semester, I realized I couldn’t do this anymore, without help. It was hard to say, “look, I can’t handle this anymore. I can’t do this on my own, I’m crumbling.” But I did. When I made my first appointment, I didn’t experience the embarrassment at first, that came later. I was like, “fuck it, it’s either this or…it’s this.” I saw my first psychiatrist and after a couple of meetings, he dropped the bomb I was hoping to hear; a diagnosis.

I was bipolar. II to be exact.

After all these years, it had a name. Bipolar Disorder. It was scary but also a big relief, to know that all that inner turmoil I was going through wasn’t just my imagination, it was REAL.

It turns out, all this time, I had been exhibiting symptoms, even as a child. It all made sense, all the ups and downs and tantrums then crying spells, all the trouble concentrating and daydreaming in school. Everything clicked. And now I had to figure out what the fuck to do with this.

I started medication and went through every possible cocktail. I lost my first two psychiatrists to retirement and went through one therapist. Somewhere in there, a breakup happened that disturbed both the process and my recovery, and I went through another therapist until I found my current one. They say you should click with a therapist, that, even though it isn’t easy, that your relationship should help you work through whatever you need to work on. Easier said than done, but I’m more than happy with her.

I was still feeling the depression more than the hypomania, that visited every once in a while, the mixed episodes that visited far too often. But I was doing okay. My baseline wasn’t great, but I knew where it was, and I was doing as well as I usually did. Until everything went sideways again. In late 2015, I went through a horrible breakup. It was messy and painful and I lost it. Again. My therapist had suggested group therapy for me for years, but I didn’t like the idea of having to talk to a room full of strangers. But I finally went to group, and later, to IOP. The little bit of work I had been doing seemed to slide completely backwards. I was actively suicidal, and I tried.

I literally couldn’t take it anymore. I was so depressed and dealing with the breakup combined with other messy things going on and my down cycle, it just snowballed. I didn’t want to die, I don’t think most people to commit suicide do. I wanted to end all the pain and depression and just be able to BREATHE. I wanted to get away from my own head. So I took a mix of my meds and just passed out. It left me mostly drugged out but semi-conscious, hardly able to do anything other than just lay there. I couldn’t walk in a straight line if you paid me. But I was alive. Fortunately, or unfortunately. I was still around.

So when does Linkin Park come in? 7th grade. I saw “One Step Closer” on CMC (California Music Channel) before MTV or VH1 had picked them up. The DJ was a friend of a friend of Mike’s I believe, and played it even though CMC was mostly–almost entirely–hip-hop and r&b. At that time, the only thing outside of hip-hop and r&b that I was listening to was pop music that was playing everywhere else. Papa Roach slipped into the mix shortly, but that was it. Linkin Park wasn’t something I would’ve been interested in. At all. But I didn’t change the channel, I just watched that ridiculous video, and as weird as it was, I found myself really hearing the lyrics. I liked them. They were different.

Then ‘Crawling” and “In The End” came out, and I had never connected with lyrics on that level. Even though I was only 12-13, they still hit home. Hard. I didn’t know how to address what happened to me when I was younger, I still hadn’t told anyone. It haunted me, especially having to see the person. It was only once in a while, but it brought everything back like a freight train. Dealing with that and the painful reality of not having friends, of being constantly bullied, I was confused and hurt. I felt like I didn’t have a voice.

But “Crawling” became my voice. I knew what it felt like to literally be crawling in your skin, to hate seeing your reflection, to despise everything. I felt the endless discomfort and insecurity that was all consuming. Every single line in that song, I felt.

Linkin Park became the outlet I needed. I needed to be heard, I needed to be understood. I needed someone to LISTEN. But I didn’t have to explain anything, everything was there for me, in black and white. I saw my feelings, I saw what I needed. I saw it all. And I was grateful.

Unfortunately, I lost touch with them for a while. Somewhere after Meteora, I strayed. There was no reason other than new songs and artists came out and my musical interests shifted some. But when I found myself in a hole, they were there. They were always there.

In 2017, my musical taste still hadn’t shifted back to them, not completely. I hadn’t heard most of their recent things. But I got into Kiiara. And when I watched her video for “Gold”, on the side it recommended a Facebook live with Linkin Park and Kiiara which threw me a bit. That didn’t seem like a combination that would go well together. But I also saw the video for “Heavy” and I clicked on it. It was hard to watch and I cried the whole time, because 2017 had, up to that point, fucking sucked (and would, inevitably end up being one of the worst years of my life). My head was a mess, everything was heavy, and I wanted to let go. The paranoia and heaviness was everything I was feeling. Once again, they became my voice, and I fell back into them for a bit before drifting away again. I still held onto “Heavy”.

On July 20, 2017, I was packing for my family reunion. I saw that “Talking To Myself” had gone up and watched it, dancing to it as I tried to remember everything I needed with me.

A few hours later my mom called me into her room and asked if I remembered Linkin Park. Of course I did. Then she dropped my worst fear; Chester was gone.

I couldn’t speak for a minute. It literally felt like someone had punched a hole in me. I felt that in my soul, like something was ripped away from me. It was like I lost my breathe (and still haven’t caught it). Chester had brought me so much comfort and peace. He had helped me through times when I was actively suicidal. He helped me when I just needed to put words to my feelings. He did that. He made everything less heavy and helped soothe the hurt. Without him, I don’t know if I would be here, I truly don’t.

I immediately downloaded the new album and listened to it, crying the entire time. The person who had been my voice for so long was suddenly silenced. There was hurt and pain in listening to the music, but at the same time, it was strange comfort. Because, even though he wasn’t here, he would always be.

There was never anger on my side. I understood that feeling, I understood how being in that moment was. It’s horrible. But there was a strange sense of pride. A pride in that he was still here, he made it as far as he did. Most people would’ve completely given up years ago. But he kept going, he kept finding a way. A lot of it was obviously the support system he had, but a lot of it was support that we didn’t see.

We didn’t see every aspect of his life, but what we did see was someone who was both strong and vulnerable, someone who kept going, even when he didn’t want too. He didn’t give up. He was going to fuse his armor back together, he was going to pick himself up if he fell. And he did, he picked himself up until he couldn’t. We’ll never know what happened, what that final catalyst was, what those last moments were like. All we know is that our hearts are a little heavier and the world a little dimmer without him.

There’s now a tattoo on my arm of the Suicide prevention ribbon, and at the bottom are the flames that Chester had on his wrists, along with the words “One More Light”. It’s both to honor and remember Chester, but also to acknowledge my own struggles and remind myself to keep going, to remind myself that my journey isn’t over, that I still have growing and changing to do. It’s hard, when mental illness is there to tell you “NO”, to try and keep you from living, to keep you from enjoying life until you think you only have one choice. But I can’t do that. I owe it to myself and to Chester to keep trying. To hear my Battle Symphony, to not give up, fuse my armor back together and pick myself up.

You’ll always be missed and always be loved Chester. I hope you’ve found the peace you’ve always deserved.

(This is my journey. It’s not over, not by a long shot. I’m still growing and changing, I’m still trying to figure everything out. I have a lot of work to do, but I’m trying, and that’s all I can do.)

#Suicide #fuck depression #Chester Bennington #make chester proud #Linkin Park #tl;dr #makechesterproud #fuckdepression #take care of yourself #be kind to yourself

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keywestlou · 4 years ago

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WAR ON DECENCY AND DEMOCRACY

There are some things that take priority over all else. Today, Lisa’s birthday. My baby is 56 years old. And still my baby.

Amazing how time flies. The little girl I knew so well gone. Today, a bright cheerful person. One who has given me 2 lovely grandchildren. Robert and Ally. Both high schoolers. How swiftly they have grown.

Happy birthday dear Lisa! May I be around many more years to say that to you.

Helen Reddy has passed on at 78. The woman who gave us I Am Woman. The song became a feminist anthem. It will be so for all time.

Now to the War on Decency and Democracy.

The Presidential Debate last night. I caught the last hour.

Trump ruined it. As he does all things. He made it a dark event. The man is a buffoon. The more I see of him, the more convinced I am he does not have it mentally.

Trump has always been unhappy that New York society and elite never welcomed him into their ranks. Who would want to be a friend to someone who acts as he does.

Some comments I came across in reading various reviews this morning. One writer described the debate as a “revulsion.” Due to Trump’s presentation. Another, “ugly.”

The New York Post reported that Trump’s “over belligerence” led him to stumble. USA Today described the event as a “horror show that had to scare America.” CNN described the debate as “total chaos.”

The moderator Chris Wallace asked Trump at one time to denounce a far right or white supremacist group. Trump appeared reluctant. Biden suggested the far out radical group known as Proud Boys.

Trump’s response shocking. He told Proud Boys to “stand back and stand by.” In other words get ready, I may need you. Proud Boys celebrated last night their recognition by Trump and his apparent need for their assistance at some point in time.

The “stand back and stand by” sounded like a call to arms.

Mike Allen in AXIOS this morning wrote the debate was similar to what is going on in the country today. Division big time. Radicalism definitely on one side. Not much on the other. A President egging on far right enthusiasts.

On Good Morning America, Bob Woodward described Trump’s performance as “attempting to assassinate the Presidency.”

Biden said something profound. Think about it for a moment: “Dirty fighters don’t win.”

Chris Wallace failed as the moderator. Perhaps anyone being moderator would have. Trump was out of control. Ranting and raving.

Wallace could not control Trump, could not make him comply with the rules for the debate set beforehand.

If I had been Wallace last night, I would first have warned Trump re his conduct, tell him if it continued he would be cut off till it was time for him to speak again. Yes, close his mike down so he would stop interring with Biden’s responses.

Let him rave all he wanted in his own silence.

Trump has received his third nomination for the Nobel Peace Award. Would you believe!

The nomination came from a group of professors in Australia who praised the “Trump Doctrine” against endless wars.

Biden provided his tax returns several months ago. Yesterday, he and his wife provided their 2019 tax return. The return set forth $944,737 in income. Their tax payment $346,204.

Trump has not provided his. The 20 years of tax returns the New York Times has appears to be from a source other than Trump himself.

With tongue in cheek, I must say I admire Trump’s transparency.

Nicholas Kristof’s Opinion piece in today’s New York Times is titled: “Watching A Cataclysm of Hunger, Disease and Illiteracy.”

The article’s first 2 paragraph’s telling.

“We think of Covid-19 as killing primarily the elderly around the world, but in poor countries it is more cataclysmic than that.”

“It is killing children through malnutrition. It is leading more people to die from tuberculosis, malaria and AIDS. It is forcing girls out of school into child marriages. It is causing women to die in childbirth. It is setting back efforts to eradicate polio, malaria and female genital mutilation. It is leading to lapses in Vitamin A distribution that will cause more children to suffer blindness and death.”

Trump claimed last night the economy was in the best shape ever because of his efforts till coronavirus hit. He further claimed he has done such a good job with the virus that the economy is on its way back to where it had been.

If so, why are major employers advising large layoffs?

The most recent is Disney. Disney announced it was laying off 28,000 employees. The Pandemic the cause. Disney’s theme parks taking the biggest hit. Sixty seven percent of those to be laid off are part timers.

On this day in 1927, Babe Ruth hit his 60th home run of the 1927 season. The record stood for 34 years.

College students returned to school. Within days, the numbers began coming in. Within 2 weeks, the numbers were off the wall. Many universities closed down.

High school, middle and grammar school children have generally returned to school across the country. So far no word as to whether the virus is infecting them. This includes the Key West High School.

The silence gives me concern. Are the schools free of coronavirus cases? Or, there are cases and the schools are keeping them quiet?

Some things are hard to believe. There is an underground movement to hold an unstructured Fantasy Fest. Limited to certain events.

Fantasy Fest was cancelled in July. For good reason. Some people do not understand nor fear the virus. Tourists as well as Key West bar and restaurant owners.

It is claimed the underground movement began when the hotels refused to return deposits for Fantasy Fest week. A Facebook page and other social media outlets started talking about the underground.

Tampa a big one. Tampa apparently has a 1,100 member Key West Fantasy Fest Club. They do not want to stay home during the week. So they have gone to social media and advised here would be parties, etc., except under different names. Black Lingerie Matters would replace the Zombie Bike ride for example.

Irish Kevin’s is openly advertising in Tampa for those who will be attending the underground Fantasy Fest to come party with them.

The numbers will go up. Not just in Key West. Also, in Tampa and from where ever else the tourists come.

Enjoy your day!

WAR ON DECENCY AND DEMOCRACY was originally published on Key West Lou

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dgarski · 5 years ago

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This Journey (Part XCIX)

Why Florida?

In 1984, I was 21 years old. I was working full time, 6 days a week, 10+ hour days at a local bakery in Racine, Wisconsin. I had one day off each week to catch up on domestics like, laundry, groceries, cleaning and relaxing. Saturday night was the only night out of the week that I could go out with my friends and have fun. Yes, I made very good money, but I had no life whatsoever. A young kid at 21 years old, really only has one thing on his mind..and that was to party, socialize and meet girls. I'm also a musician, so I desperately wanted to play in a band, playing gigs and doing what I loved to do. None of this could happen, working the kinds of hours I was working back then. I was not happy with my life. All of this compounded with the absolutely miserable weather in Wisconsin most of the year, made for a very depressing existence. I needed a change.

In July of that year, my friends and I were on our second annual camping trip to Door County, Wisconsin. We had a larger group that year. Seven of us total. One night, it was raining, so sitting around the campfire was out of the question. Instead, we all crowded inside the camper and drank like fish. Somehow, we got to talking about our futures, what we wanted, where we wanted to be, etc. Mind you, at 21 years old, I was the eldest of the group, so we were fairly naive kids just out of our teens, trying to figure out what we were going to do with our lives. As we talked, a common consensus began to grow apparent. Everyone wanted to get good paying jobs, get married, have kids, live in a nice home and become domesticated...and do so in Wisconsin. The sound of all of that, really shocked me. The very idea of staying in a place I was already hating, to my core, was unimaginable. I spoke up and said, "I want to move somewhere, where it's warm..like California or maybe Florida." This statement was immediately met with judgment and condemnation. I got hit with questions like, "Why would you want to leave a good paying job?", What's wrong with where you live?", Your family is here. Why would you want to leave them?" I immediately felt a sense of defending myself for saying what I said. I couldn't understand why my wanting to move to a warmer place was somehow unthinkable. I was born in California. Perhaps that part of me was aching to get back to that climate. Florida was really the only other place that came to mind. The only places I'd ever been to outside of Wisconsin, were family trips to New Mexico and to Washington. Any other vacations were done in northern Wisconsin. I was tired of never going anywhere outside the comfort zone of the Dairy State. I wanted to explore new places, be around new people and new cultures. I wanted a change from the old and begin something new. Living in Wisconsin for the rest of my life, seemed like a horrific way of simply giving up all any notions of adventure. We were young kids. Why would anyone want to settle down and turn into their parents?

September 1st, I moved out of my parents house and into my very first apartment. I was making good enough money to afford a place of my own, and it was time for me to get out from under the roof of my parents house. I loved my new apartment. I had never lived on my own before. This was a new experience that I embraced almost immediately. My new found independence became one of the most valuable identities for me. I loved being on my own, doing what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it. I ate what I wanted, when I wanted. If the dishes sat in the sink for a day, so be it. I had my own place, and nobody could tell me how to live. I absolutely loved it.

The next couple of years, our little group of friends was beginning to grow apart. We were all grouping into adults with adult lives and responsibilities. I was the first to move out and get my own place, which meant everyone came over to my apartment. I didn't mind, as long as they didn't wake me up. I had many parties. Instead of us all going out somewhere, the guys would come over and we would drink and watch movies. This usually happened during the bitter cold, freezing winter months. Instead of dealing with the weather, it was easier to just go over to Dave's place and hang out there. In 1987, I was really not liking my life at all. I was bored. I was working insane hours. During the Holidays, I didn't have any days off. It was really starting to turn me into an asshole. I didn't want to be an asshole, but I was unhappy with the way things were going in my life. I wanted out. At that point, it wasn't going to take much for me to figure out some kind of an exodus plan. I was sick of the cold. I was sick of the same thing, every day, every week. I needed to start a new life. I just needed a catalyst and a really good reason to leave it all behind.

This reason came in the form of my grandmother passing away in early October of 1987. Her dying didn't really hit me right away. I knew that she was sick, and her passing meant that she was no longer suffering. I remember being at work, not happy at all. I was still dealing with my first grandparent dying, still trying to figure out what to do with my life and why I hated being there. Then one morning, I got into it with the eldest son of the bakery owner. This guy was twice my size and could have probably pounded me into the ground like a nail. I didn't care. Something inside me snapped. I'd reached my limit. I needed to get out.

I went home that morning and wrote a letter to a friend, Mike who was living in Clearwater, Florida at the time. I asked him if he knew anything about the amount of work or the kind of jobs that might be available in Florida. He was working as a chef at his parents restaurant. Within a few days, I received a letter back from him, stating that there were plenty of jobs in Florida, I would be able to find work easily. He even offered a job for me to work at his restaurant. That was all I needed to read to make my decision. I now had a catalyst, a reason to get out of Wisconsin and move to Florida.

Because I made such good money, my car, my motorcycles, everything I owned was paid for and was mine. I owed no debt on credit cards and had about a $25K credit line at my disposal. I had also saved about $9k. Financially, I was completely prepared. My entire attitude changed over night. I rehearsed a conversation I needed to have with my boss, to tell him that I was leaving the bakery to move to Florida. I had to give him notice that I was quitting. Four weeks should be enough. All I talked about was my moving to Florida. Was I going to do all of this alone?

I hadn't seen my buddy Mark since the summer before, when all of us went camping. He had been involved with his girlfriend, Sue and was working full time for ComAir airlines at the airport in Milwaukee. He and I hadn't talked in a long time. One day in December, he showed up at my apartment and told me what he had learned about his job. I didn't really know what it was he did at the airport, so he enlightened me by telling me that his job was opening up a new station at the airport in Orlando, Florida, and that he was thinking about moving to Florida. He had gotten wind of my plans and wanted to tell me his. He and Sue had just broken up and it quickly became apparent that neither one of us had any reason to remain in Wisconsin.

Plans changed. Instead of going to work at a restaurant in Clearwater, working in the airline industry in Orlando seemed much more appealing, especially to two adventuring young punk kids. I wasn't in this alone. I actually had a partner to go to Florida with me. After the Holidays, I began to sell a lot of my stuff. I sold my furniture and gave a bunch of stuff to my old man. He was living in an apartment at the time. Mark and I still needed to fly down to Florida to check things out to make sure that this was what we were going to do. Once we were committed, we couldn't back out. Mark was able to get two buddy passes on Delta airlines. We flew to Orlando, rented a Chrysler LaBaron convertible and drove from Orlando International all the way to Cleawater to meet with our buddy Mike. We met up with him and we followed him to his apartment near the beach. This was at night so we couldn't see the beach from his apartment, but we could definitely hear it. I was so blown away just by that. Mark and I had been awake for nearly a day, but our excitement kept us moving. We all stayed up until late, drinking and having a good time. The very next day, Mark and I had to drive all the way back to Orlando to meet with the station manager at the airport. Mark also knew the supervisor, Bob, who was instrumental in encouraging Mark into thinking about moving to Orlando to help him open the new station for the airline. I knew absolutely nothing about working at an airport. It would turn out that, my not knowing the airline industry, really didn't matter. Mark and I met with Bob and he introduced us to the station manager, Kathy. She took Mark into her office and had an interview with him and hired him right away. She told him that I needed a job. She brought me into her office and hired me on the spot, no experience needed. It was clear that two hard-working men from Wisconsin stood a better chance at getting a job than not. At the time, neither one of us knew that the people in the deep south moved a whole lot slower than where we were from. Mark and I looked at each other after the interviews and said "We're moving to fucking Florida!" It was an incredibly exciting prospect for the two of us.

Everything was falling into place. Now, all we had to do was fly back to Wisconsin and tell everyone our plans to move to the Sunshine State. Once we got back to Racine, our plans were met with less than an enthusiastic reception from friends and family. It didn't matter to either one of us. The decisions had already been made. We were moving to Florida whether or not anyone else approved of it. I remember thinking at that time that if we didn't do it then, we would never do it. Mark and I really had nothing to lose. Things could only get better...and they did.

We packed up all we could fit into the back of a U-Haul trailer behind my car. At midnight on February 22nd, 1988, Mark and I left Racine. We hit the road and never looked back. We got into Orlando late on the 23rd. We stayed at the hotel near the airport, because it was where we stayed when we were there the month before. Everything we owned, sat in the trailer in the parking lot. The very next morning we took a drive up a nearby main road called Semoran blvd. We had been advised by people from the airport that if we were looking for an apartment near the airport, we should try somewhere up that road. We stopped at two or three different apartment complexes until we came to Lake Frederica. We did the tour of a large two bedroom/two bathroom apartment and agreed that we would take that place. We spent the remainder of that afternoon, unpacking all of our stuff. That night, we both walked over to the phone booth near the laundry room, and placed calls back to Wisconsin to tell our families that we had made it and that we had found a place.

We both went to work for Comair airlines. I took to it almost immediately. It wasn't really work to me, compared to working at that bakery for so many years. This wasn't difficult at all. I chose to work part time hours and Mark wanted to work full time. At first, living together and working together, wasn't too difficult. That began to change slowly over the next couple of months. We were always together. We were beginning to get sick of each other. Mark found out about a job doing skycapping for another airline. I didn't know what that was so, I didn't follow him. I didn't understand why anyone would want to leave an airline to go work for tips throwing luggage around. Then one night after work, he came home with pockets filled with cash. I couldn't believe how much money he had made. I made it abundantly clear to Mark that he was to get me on as a skycap too.

I quit Comair and started skycapping on February 19, 1989. All of the sudden, I'm making the same kind of money Mark was making. I was making more money than I had ever made at the bakery, in about half the time. I learned quite a bit about myself as I learned the tricks of the trade. I learned how to hustle to get better tips. I learned the game and got very good at it. July 25th, 1989, I purchased a brand new Pontiac Firebird. I had never owned a brand new car before. I was making the money and could certainly afford it. By November of that year, I decided to move out and get my own apartment.

Mark and I took trips back and forth to Wisconsin, for the Holidays and other occasions. We even drove up in my new car in 1991 to meet with the guys in Door County. Mark and I were seeing less and less of each other, except when we passed each other at work, He worked mornings and I worked afternoons. He was making new friends and so was I. Our lives had once again changed. Over the years, Mark and I began to lose track of each other. He got married and had moved around central Florida several times. They had two kids and eventually ended up in a nasty, bitter divorce. I eventually left the airport in 1996 and went on to teach guitar lessons for the next 20+ years. I finally became that legitimate musician I had always wanted to be. Mark stayed at the airport and never really moved on from there. Mark and I lost touch with each other for a few years. It had been over 25 years that we had been living in Orlando, and we had both moved on with our lives.

Times got really difficult for me. I lost a lot of my students, for reasons I may never fully understand.I had to go back to the airport, back to a job again. Mark and I had gotten together a few times over the years but ultimately, we lost communications with each other. I haven't seen or spoken with him since 2014. Again, the reasons behind this, are not fully clear to me. Going back to the airport was a very harsh change for me. I had been used to being my own boss for so many years, that working for some company was something I was not looking forward to doing again. I had no choice. I either work a job or live in my car. Things finally started to get better in 2018. I had been promoted to full time and had been given an exclusive post to work. The company was showing me their confidence in my abilities as an employee. All was finally going well for me again, when the unthinkable happened. I collapsed at work from a stroke and a heart attack, and ended up in the hospital for two weeks.

I found myself back in my parents house, recovering and healing from my brush with death. I lost everything. I had to once again figure out a way to get out of Racine and go back home to Florida. Nothing and no one got in my way the first time 31 year earlier, and I wasn't about to let anyone get in my way, the second time, Florida is my home and has been my home for most of my life. I am a legitimate Floridian.

So why Florida? I love it here. I honestly do. This place has changed my life for countless goods and a handful of bads. I have had so many adventures, met so many people, done so many things, been to so many places...none of which would have ever happened in Wisconsin. The life I chose to leave when I was 24 years old, was because I wanted to start a new life, far away, in a much warmer climate. I wanted to be able to wear shorts and t-shirts for most of the year. I never wanted to shovel snow from another sidewalk. I never wanted to deal with freezing cold and blizzards. I didn't want to turn into my parents. I didn't want to simply give up and never find out my true potential. I needed desperately to find out what I was made of. I needed to find myself and see the world. I have done so many things in my life because I moved to Florida when I was a kid. Things I more than likely, never would have had the opportunity to do, had I stay in Racine. I am a Floridian and always will be. Orlando is my home. I am so grateful to be back where I belong.

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seventeen-imagines-reactions · 7 years ago

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The thing again.

Disclaimer: This is originally a K-Pop Blog, yes but there is one thing I need to say. And I will be talking about suicide, Depression etc. But if both of those things are alright for you, then I’d be happy if you could read the few things I learned in the past few hours. + This migh be super emotional because I’ve been listening to them ever since so there’s plenty of things I want to say. (Ignore the typos)

I honestly don’t really know where to start this, so this might as well be a chit-chat post. So if there’s anything you want to add, either publicly or anonym, then please feel free and do so. There’s no order to the things I want to say, so please excuse, if I repeat some things over and over again.

So. This beautiful gentleman right here is Chester Bennington. Lead-singer of Linkin Park. As you might know he died by suicide a couple of months ago. On July 20, 2017 to be exact.

I don’t really remember if I talked about him on this Blog. But as you might know I talked about other Idols who suffer from depression so you might know my standing point to such a sensitive topic.

I remember when I read the news, like everyone else, didn’t want to believe. I thought that those were either fake news, or because the news of my country only talked about “tried to commit suicide”, thought that he might be in hospital. So the real realization kicked in a while later. Until I really realized what happend I - other than my friends - started to listen to all of the records and cover songs etc. I always knew that there was a deep meaning to his songs. I understood the meanings even when, judging by the melody, the songs were “happier”.

But when I listened to the songs on that day… it felt so different. I was talking to friends, asking literally only “why”. Why him. Why such a pure soul. Why do good people leave first. In those minutes I really turned into the serious person I am and I’m pretty sure that my friends were not ready for that. I remebered all the funds, the benefit concerts, the MV for Iridescent in the childrens hospital, not even speaking about music for relief. And yes I know not those were things the whole of Linkin Park participated in, but the only thing I thought about in that moment was: Jesus, he deserved better. He deserved to be happy, he deserved only the best things on this known earth. I wasn’t only sad on that day, but also somewhat angry about how careless some people are. Maybe an hour after the news spread, people started saying things like “He’s weak. // He left his wife and his kids alone. // His acting was selfish.” and this might be the only point where I break character because who the fuck do you think you are. None of us know what he was going through, he was never selfish. It’s none of your business talking like that about someone who is no longer with us. Show some respect at least. That shoulnd’t be so difficult.

Linkin Park is one of the few bands who never, never showed off with anything they had. They never said anything against anyone, talked to their fans no matter what. And they value their fans. And I’m sure, not only Chester but all of the boys… even their wives are role models for a lot of people. Talinda and Anna keep interacting with fans who text them, they post their own experiences. Personally, I’ve never seen something like this. The Fanbase of Linkin Park is so overwhelmingly close to each other. I’ve seen random strangers on my timeline, helping each other out, giving advice, offering help.

One of the main reasons why I’m writing this, is yesterdays concert. I did not sleep, because I wanted to see this concert “as live as posible”. And as soon as the concert started I was wide awake. The beginning wasn’t was made me sad. Neither did Mikes voice cracking on the saddest parts of the lyrics. Not even the fact that Chester was missing - and I still don’t know why I didn’t start bawling my eyes out as soon as they started the song and his voice wasn’t the first thing we heard.

What made me sad, or let’s say emotianal was, again, the fanbase. Singing a whole complete song without a singer on stage… Wow. At some places, in some songs, the voice of the crowd overpowered the singers on stage. The individual shots of the crowd, hugging each other, being close and singing while crying. I can’t imagine how they must’ve felt there. Mike asking if they really just sung along a Youtube video… Hell yes, we did. We know everything by heart. I also think the only time I cried during the concert was when Mike asked wether or not it was okay to ask if the crowd was having fun. It felt like you saw the exact moment he realized what he said, in his facial expression.

But I also was quite happy seeing them laugh, how Mike was acting on stage, how tightly he hugged all the guests. I’m sure they were sad, on this day maybe even more than on others, but they made the best out of it, knowing that Chester wouldn’t want anyone to be sad. Rob, Brad, Dave, Dave, Mike and Joe seemed to be so relieved by the end of the concert.

And lastly. Talinda. Gorgeous woman. She was so strong up there. Talking about her feelings, how grateful she was to have her friends - her brothers and sisters - by her side. They are creating a resource to help others - again not thinking about themselves but people who need help.

Today was the day when I felt like the Fanbase is back to its normal form. Before you could feel the sadness but after the concert it just… Just seemed to be so “normal” again.

I’m really glad that I’ve gotten to know them and you guys. The only band I’ve been listening to ever since I can remember. The only band I ever wanted to see live. And probably the only band I will listen to until I grow old.

Yesterday Mike kept saying ‘Thank you’ to everyone. The Fans, the band, the guests, just everyone. But today I want to say,

Thank you Linkin Park. Thank you Mike, thank you Brad, thank you Rob, thank you Dave, thank you Joe, thank you Chester for brightening up our days. For being with us during our hardest times. Thank you.

#linkin park #chester bennington #Fuckdepression #makechesterproud #linkin park and friends #hollywood bowl #honor of chester #linkin park chester

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junker-town · 5 years ago

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Which NFL players held out from training camp in 2019?

Melvin Gordon, Ezekiel Elliott, and Jadeveon Clowney all skipped training camp in pursuit of contract extensions, with various results.

When NFL training camps opened in July 2018, many of the league’s biggest names steered clear. Le’Veon Bell, Aaron Donald, Khalil Mack, and Earl Thomas all refused to show up due to qualms with their contracts.

Bell never reported, opting instead to sit out an entire season after the Steelers franchised him in back-to-back years.

Donald’s holdout ended with a record-breaking contract from the Rams. And Mack’s ended when he was traded from the Raiders to the Bears and subsequently given the blockbuster deal he wanted too.

Thomas reluctantly showed up without a new contract from the Seahawks and wasn’t shy about voicing his displeasure — most notably when he suffered a broken leg early in the 2018 season that ended his time in Seattle.

There wasn’t quite the same level of star power on the list of holdouts in 2019. But skipping training camp is a common, and usually effective, tactic. A few players gave it a shot.

Here are the 2019 training camp absentees who stretched their holdouts to the regular season, and the notable players who opted against a holdout or got a contract along the way.

6 players who had holdouts

Trent Williams, OT, Washington

Williams signed a huge extension in 2015, but the guaranteed money has been paid, and his contract is down to its final two years. After it appeared as though he’d sit out the entire season due to his discontent with the team he plays for, Williams reported to the team just minutes after the trade deadline ended.

@nflnetwork Trent Williams just reported to Washington Redskins

— OG aka CAPTAIN 23 (@DeAngeloHall23) October 29, 2019

By showing up, Williams avoided his contract tolling over and leaving him with two seasons left on his deal in Washington.

He’s not in a bad spot with $11 million and $12.5 million in base salary for the next two years, although he’ll only see about $5.8 million of his 2019 salary after sitting out half the. season. But many offensive tackles have shifted the market in the last few years and Williams — who turned 31 in July — is running out of time to get another blockbuster deal.

The bigger part of Williams’ complaint has nothing to do with his salary, though. It’s reportedly due to frustration with the Washington medical staff. Williams had a growth on his head surgically removed, and coach Jay Gruden told reporters that the offensive tackle “wished the diagnosis had come a little sooner” from team doctors.

Williams explained his absence from offseason practices in a meeting with team president Bruce Allen.

“I’ve talked to Trent a few times,” Allen told NBC Sports. ”He’s explained some things to me and I’ll leave it at that.”

He’s so frustrated about the situation that NBC Sports Washington reported “he’s not coming back. Period.”

In spite of that hardline stance and a holdout that kept Williams out for the entire preseason, Washington has reportedly rebuffed trade offers and Allen was adamant all along that the offensive tackle would return.

"I THINK TRENT'S GONNA PLAY FOOTBALL"#Redskins team president Bruce Allen goes 1-on-1 with @SherreeBurruss to talk about the latest with Trent Williams' holdout. Tomorrow, Allen talks about Jay Gruden's job security as well as his own, only on @nbcwashington pic.twitter.com/B14C09rDdp

— NBC4 Sports (@NBC4Sports) August 28, 2019

Williams has been to seven consecutive Pro Bowls, but he hasn’t completed a 16-game season since 2013. Most recently, he missed three games in 2018 due to thumb and rib injuries, and six games in 2017 due to a knee injury. Washington struggled to deal with the absence, and now has journeyman Case Keenum and rookie Dwayne Haskins to protect.

Melvin Gordon, RB, Chargers

Los Angeles is in the thick of contention thanks in part to the ageless play of Philip Rivers, but he was without a key component of his offense in training camp and the beginning of the regular season.

It wasn’t until the end of September that Melvin Gordon finally ended a lengthy holdout and reported to the team facility.

Sources: The holdout is ending. #Chargers RB Melvin Gordon is, in fact, reporting to the team tomorrow. He won’t play this week, but he is planning to be back in the fold with his teammates.

— Ian Rapoport (@RapSheet) September 25, 2019

Gordon has been a big part of the Chargers’ offensive revival, recording nearly 4,400 yards from scrimmage the past three seasons. He’s also been a bit unreliable due to injury — he’s only played one full 16-game campaign in his four-year career. He’s currently on the hook for $5.6 million in the fifth year of his rookie contract, but made just under $5 million for the four years preceding it.

His contract demand was a little surprising, but it makes sense. Gordon comes into 2019 with some leverage after making a leap in 2018; his yards-per-carry average rose from a career mark of 3.8 to 5.1 as Los Angeles rose from the outside of the postseason picture and into a spot in the Divisional Round last January. He also contributed a career-high 4.2 catches per game, playing a massive role as headache-reliever for his aging quarterback.

The Chargers have an estimated $39 million in cap space to spend next spring, but a chunk of that will likely be devoted to Rivers, whose contract is up at the end of the year. Players like Joey Bosa and Keenan Allen will also need to be dealt with soon. If the club thinks Gordon’s jump in efficiency last fall isn’t sustainable, it may hold strong against Gordon’s holdout threat.

Los Angeles reportedly held firm at a $10 million per year offer — well behind the $14.375 million average of Todd Gurley — and that led to a trade request.

Chargers RB Melvin Gordon's agent Damarius Bilbo tells me he requested a trade last wk for his client, after the team remained at their initial offer of aprox $10M/ year. GM Tom Telesco told Bilbo, Gordon is still family, but Bilbo was not given permission to seek trade partners.

— ig: josinaanderson (@JosinaAnderson) August 1, 2019

One that the Chargers eventually gave in to:

Some potentially big news for the #Chargers: They have given the reps for Melvin Gordon permission to seek a trade, sources say. He’ll explore his options, which include returning. But big few days.

— Ian Rapoport (@RapSheet) August 31, 2019

Right after that, Chargers GM Tom Telesco announced that the team would not negotiate further with Gordon until after the season. So with no trade brokered, Gordon will evidently have to play 2019 on his current contract.

Given the young tailback’s importance to LA’s offensive identity, the flexibility he brings, and the team’s likely need to keep Rivers happy, an extension seemed logical. Now it appears unlikely.

Ezekiel Elliott, RB, Cowboys

In three seasons in Dallas, Elliott has clearly lived up to his top-five draft status — even if he’s had a few off-field incidents raise issues. He’s averaged 101.2 rushing yards per game with 28 touchdowns and two trips to the Pro Bowl. Keep in mind, Jim Brown is the only player to ever average more than 100 rushing yards per game over the course of his career.

It seemed inevitable that Elliott would be made the highest-paid running back in the NFL at some point. For a while though, he was stuck in the same boat as Jalen Ramsey — another top-five pick from 2016 who wasn’t a top priority because of the fifth-year option on his rookie contract.

The Cowboys are also preoccupied with locking down Dak Prescott and Amari Cooper, but Elliott wanted his discounted salary addressed. He privately said earlier in the summer that would hold out of training camp unless he gets a new contract, according to Pro Football Talk. Then he followed through on that and did not join the team at all during the preseason.

It was a long process for Dallas and Elliott to reach an agreement. First, Elliott was offered a deal that doesn’t top the one Todd Gurley received from the Rams in 2018.

Sources: The most recent offer in negotiations between holdout Ezekiel Elliott and the Cowboys came from the team. Elliott has been offered a contract making him one of the NFL’s 2 highest-paid RB. That would suggest team offering more than LeVeon Bell and less than Todd Gurley.

— Ed Werder (@WerderEdESPN) August 22, 2019

After Cowboys rookie running back Tony Pollard rushed for 42 yards and a touchdown against the Los Angeles Rams, owner Jerry Jones said “Zeke who?” — in a joking manner — when he was asked about Pollard being his best negotiator.

Yes, Jerry Jones said "Zeke who", when asked if Tony Pollard is his "best negotiator". But... this is the full "Zeke who?" sound bite from Jerry, complete with the necessary context of his follow-up to the joke, saying the #Cowboys need both Zeke Elliott and Tony Pollard. pic.twitter.com/yDiZnlwwke

— Mike Leslie (@MikeLeslieWFAA) August 18, 2019

Predictably, Elliott and his agent didn’t find the joke all that funny.

It drew a few laughs but neither @EzekielElliott nor agent Rocky Arceneaux found @Cowboys Jerry Jones' quip "Zeke who?" as amusing. Arceneaux: "I didn't think it was funny and neither did Zeke - we actually thought it was disrespectful."

— Chris Mortensen (@mortreport) August 19, 2019

Pollard was impressive for the Cowboys this preseason and would’ve started if Elliott didn’t report by Week 1, though Jones wasn’t too worried about that:

Cowboys owner Jerry Jones doesn't seem unnerved on @1053thefan with possibility team could start 2019 without RB Ezekiel Elliott. "We've got a marathon here. We want Zeke when we get to the playoffs. We want Zeke when we're in the dog days of the season."

— Michael Gehlken (@GehlkenNFL) August 28, 2019

Ahead of the start of the regular season, the Cowboys finally started making progress on a deal. The negotiations came down to the wire, though.

Then on Sept. 4, Elliott and the Cowboys agreed to a six-year, $90 million deal, making him the highest-paid running back in the NFL.

Jadeveon Clowney, DE, Texans

The No. 1 pick in the 2014 NFL Draft may not be the unstoppable sack machine that many expected him to be, but Clowney has emerged as a three-time Pro Bowler. He’s valuable enough that the Texans gave him a franchise tag that guarantees him $15.967 million in 2019.

That’s a good pay day for Clowney. The problem is that it lacks long-term security and is below market value for the position. He stayed away from camp and sat out all of preseason before he was traded to the Seahawks a week before the start of the regular season.

The situation was bungled by Houston, which got only a third-round pick and two backup linebackers in exchange for one of the NFL’s better defensive players.

It didn’t help negotiations when the Texans fired general manager Brian Gaine in June and bungled their attempts to replace him. That left interim general manager Chris Olsen and coach Bill O’Brien about a month to work on a deal with Clowney.

Bill O'Brien on Jadeveon Clowney and if Brian Gaine firing affects anything with his status going forward: 'He's been franchised. He's not here. It is what it is.'

— Aaron Wilson (@AaronWilson_NFL) June 11, 2019

With Clowney opting against signing his franchise tender, the Texans weren’t be able to fine him for missing training camp practices. Clowney took his holdout a step further by firing his agent Bus Cook just prior to the trade getting done.

Jadeveon Clowney fired veteran agent Bus Cook, according to league sources today. Texans unsigned franchise player extremely frustrated with situation has five days before he can hire new agent

— Aaron Wilson (@AaronWilson_NFL) August 27, 2019

Now he’s a member of the Seahawks.

Michael Thomas, WR, Saints

Not many people were expecting Thomas to hold out. Mostly because he was adamant all offseason that it’s not his style.

“I’m a football player first — I like being at work.” Thomas told ESPN in May. “I feel pretty certain that everything will get taken care of and handled professionally. This is how I approach the game and how I show up to work the same way, and everything else will take care of itself.”

So even though he was a surprising member of the holdout club, his gambit paid off in a big way. Thomas was set to make a laughably low $1.148 million for the 2019 season. His absence set new contract negotiations in motion in New Orleans — and he left the table with the richest deal a wide receiver’s ever seen.

Thomas and the Saints came to terns on an extension that will pay the young wideout $100 million over five years, with $61 million of that guaranteed. It’s the largest deal any wide receiver has ever earned in NFL history, eclipsing the five year, $90 million contract Odell Beckham signed with the Giants in 2018.

Yannick Ngakoue, DE, Jaguars

Jacksonville appears to have prioritized an extension for Ngakoue ahead of a deal for cornerback Jalen Ramsey.

That makes sense, considering both were drafted in 2016 but Ramsey was the first-round pick. That means he had a fifth-year option on his contract that keeps him locked up through the 2020 season. Ngakoue is entering the last year of his rookie deal, so his contract situation is a more immediate hurdle for the Jaguars to clear.

Ngakoue sat out offseason workouts earlier this year for that reason.

Statement from Jaguars’ DE Yannick Ngakoue: “I will not be attending minicamp as my contract has not been resolved. I remain committed to Jacksonville, the fans and my teammates. My hope is to be with Jacksonville for years to come.”

— Adam Schefter (@AdamSchefter) June 10, 2019

In three seasons with the Jaguars, Ngakoue has 29.5 sacks and one trip to the Pro Bowl. That kind of production should put him in the same tier as Demarcus Lawrence, Frank Clark, Trey Flowers, and Dee Ford — each of whom got a pricy five-year deal in 2019 that averaged between $17.1 and $21 million.

A training camp holdout started, and he looked like a player who could’ve considered dragging his contract dispute into September. But with no deal in sight and an upcoming risk of not reaching unrestricted free agency, Ngakoue decided to reverse course.

Now he’s not ruling out a contract extension with the team, but he doesn’t sound too optimistic.

#Jaguars DE Yannick Ngakoue: "They had a chance to sign me for a long-term deal but it didn't get done. It is what it is. I love football, love my teammates, and I'm here to play games." Could a deal get done before the season? "It's out of my hands. I don't even know."

— Phillip Heilman (@phillip_heilman) August 4, 2019

Ngakoue is scheduled to become a free agent in March.

6 notable players who opted against a holdout

Chris Jones, DT, Chiefs

Kansas City did some high-stakes tinkering with its pass rush during the offseason, shipping Dee Ford to the 49ers and filling his role by trading for Frank Clark. But the real centerpiece of the Chiefs’ defense is Jones, who had 15.5 sacks in 2018.

With his contract expiring after the 2019 season, Jones skipped offseason practices this spring. The Chiefs responded to the absence by playing hardball.

From Up to the Minute Live: The #Chiefs have mandatory minicamp without DT Chris Jones, who wants a new contract. Sounds like KC won't negotiate until Jones shows up. pic.twitter.com/k5EMeGFxyG

— Ian Rapoport (@RapSheet) June 11, 2019

The good news for the Chiefs was that Jones had a reason to show up shortly after training camp opens. If he didn’t arrive to camp by Aug. 6, he would’ve been set to reach restricted free agency next year rather than unrestricted free agency.

Camp opens for the Chiefs on July 24, so Jones would have been rolling the dice if he didn’t show up within the first couple weeks. Aaron Donald faced the same situation in 2018 and blew through the deadline in pursuit of a new contract.

He still didn’t show up until the Rams gave him a record-breaking deal on the last day of August.

Jones took the opposite strategy and arrived for camp, although he made it clear that he isn’t going to get any cheaper.

Per the Katz. brothers regarding Chris Jones, who is now reporting to camp on time: “He knows his value and if he has to play out his deal in order to reach free agency, then that’s what he will do. For now, he’s focused on winning a Super Bowl for Kansas City.”

— Adam Schefter (@AdamSchefter) July 26, 2019

Robbie Gould, K, 49ers

There aren’t many examples of kickers holding out, but Gould made it clear that San Francisco isn’t a place he wants to be. He requested a trade in April and told the 49ers that he won’t negotiate a long-term deal ahead of the July 15 deadline for an extension.

In a turn of events, 49ers’ franchise kicker Robbie Gould has pulled his contract proposals that he sent to San Francisco and told the team he will not negotiate or sign a long-term deal with them, and he would like to be traded, Gould said Tuesday.

— Adam Schefter (@AdamSchefter) April 23, 2019

The 49ers didn’t take long to deny the trade request:

Will you trade Robbie Gould? “No.” - Kyle Shanahan

— Jennifer Lee Chan (@jenniferleechan) April 26, 2019

Kickers are often cogs that are easy to replace, but Gould has some leverage after leading the NFL in field goal percentage in 2019 by nailing 33 of his 34 tries. That was enough to more than double the average annual salary of his last contract and make him one of the highest paid specialists in the game this fall.

The 49ers were able to change Gould’s mind and avoid a holdout by inking him to a four-year deal to stay in the Bay Area.

Details on Robbie Gould’s extension with #49ers: It’s 2 years, $10.5M fully guaranteed at signing. Team must decide whether to fully guarantee half his $4.5M salary for 2021 before Week 16 of 2020 season, and the other half by the following April. Full deal 4 years, $19M.

— Tom Pelissero (@TomPelissero) July 15, 2019

That resolved the issue before it ever reached training camp.

Bobby Wagner, LB, Seahawks

As far as holdouts go, Wagner’s hunt for a new contract has been as amicable as possible. The linebacker chose against practicing in OTAs, but still showed up at the facility and participated without going on the field.

“He handled it beautifully,” Seahawks coach Pete Carroll told reporters, via 247Sports. “Bobby’s an incredible player in this program. Everything that he does, his presence is obvious. He’s been around for everything. He’s been involved with everything and he’s handled it exactly the way he should under these circumstances.”

Things may get a little more contentious when it gets closer to the season, though. Wagner is arguably the best linebacker in the NFL, but now he has serious leverage for a pay raise thanks to C.J. Mosley. The Jets gave Mosley a five-year contract that averages $17 million per year — waaaaay more than Luke Kuechly’s $12.36 million average that previously reigned as the top salary for an inside linebacker.

Wagner is entering the final year of his contract and remains an integral part of the Seahawks. The defense has undergone a transformation in the wake of the Legion of Boom’s demise, and Wagner’s been the player who has held the unit together through the transition.

But it’s going to be a tough negotiation, thanks in no small part to Mosley’s outlier of a contract.

Wagner’s expected to show up, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll fully participate. His previous strategy of staying off the practice field could extend into training camp too.

#Seahawks star LB Bobby Wagner is expected to show up for training camp tomorrow, sources say, because of the kind of leader he is and wanting to be there with his teammates. He may not put himself in harm’s way until a deal gets done, and he’ll be cautious. But he’ll be there.

— Ian Rapoport (@RapSheet) July 23, 2019

For now, he belongs in this bottom tier of non-holdouts, but that could still change depending on his participation.

Julio Jones, WR, Falcons

The Falcons placated Jones last year when he opted to skip out on the beginning of training camp. While the star receiver didn’t get the huge contract he was aiming for, the Falcons shifted money around on the deal to give him more money in 2018.

“We have come to an agreement with Julio, and we will re-address everything in 2019,” Falcons general manager Thomas Dimitroff said in a statement at the time.

Well now it’s well into 2019 and the contract still hasn’t been re-addressed. There was a report in April that a deal was close to finished, but nothing came of that. Jones then sat out OTAs, setting the table for a training camp holdout. Instead, he showed up.

I want to be the best teammate I can possibly be, Julio says. That’s his focus right now, not the noise about his contract.

— Jeañña (@jeannathomas) July 24, 2019

After five straight Pro Bowl seasons with at least 1,400 receiving yards each, Jones isn’t going to come cheap. He’ll probably want a contract that eclipses the $18 million per year that was awarded to Odell Beckham Jr. last year.

There’s not much reason to believe the Falcons won’t pay up, so Jones trusted that he didn’t need to steer clear.

Darius Slay, CB, Lions

On the list of underpaid players coming up on the end of their contracts, Slay is in a different situation. He signed an extension in 2016 and still has two years left with base salaries of $12.55 million and $10 million on the way.

Since signing that deal, Slay has been to the Pro Bowl two times while several other cornerbacks got more lucrative contracts. He’s also gone through the guaranteed portions of the deal.

Now Slay’s angling for another contract that pays him like the elite cornerback that he is and gives him some security. And threatening to skip some of training camp was part of his strategy.

“Will I be there?” Slay said of training camp on a podcast in June, via the Detroit Free Press. “We’ll see. Time will tell.”

Ultimately, he decided not to follow through on that.

#Lions CB Darius Slay also will report, source said. Detroit at full strength for start of camp. https://t.co/6lycY14LLV

— Tom Pelissero (@TomPelissero) July 23, 2019

With two years left on his deal, Detroit doesn’t need to do Slay any favors and restructure it. But the Lions are also sitting pretty with over $23 million in cap space and can afford to kick one of their best players a little more. It just doesn’t look like it’s going to happen this year.

Duke Johnson, RB, Browns

Johnson is on the hunt for a new uniform more than a new contract. The Browns running back says his goal is “to be somewhere [where he’s] wanted.”

Duke Johnson Jr. explains his trade request & why he doesn’t feel wanted by #Browns anymore pic.twitter.com/EyRQ5MNiaY

— Daryl Ruiter (@RuiterWrongFAN) June 4, 2019

The Browns — like the 49ers with Robbie Gould — haven’t been very receptive of the request:

#Browns head coach Freddie Kitchens minces NO words w/ us on unhappy RB Duke Johnson: “He wants to be traded. I want to win the lottery. It doesn’t matter. He’s under contract. He’s a Cleveland Brown he’s going to be used to the best of his ability in what benefits the team.”

— Aditi Kinkhabwala (@AKinkhabwala) June 4, 2019

Johnson is currently set to be Nick Chubb’s backup in Cleveland, and his touches will likely decline when an eight-game suspension for Kareem Hunt is up. Johnson finished the 2018 season with just 40 rushing attempts, despite averaging 5.0 yards per carry. He contributed a little more in the pass game with 47 receptions, but that was down from 74 receptions in 2017.

While his trade demands haven’t gone anywhere, Johnson showed up for minicamp and now training camp too.

#Browns RB Duke Johnson, who has requested a trade from Cleveland, will report to the #Browns for training camp today, source said. His situation remains fluid, but he will be present.

— Ian Rapoport (@RapSheet) July 24, 2019

His presence at training camp doesn’t mean he’s happy with his situation in Cleveland, though.

Update: Johnson was traded to the Houston Texans on August 8 in exchange for a conditional fourth round pick that can be bumped up to a third round pick if he plays 10 games.

Browns trade RB Duke Johnson to @HoustonTexans for a conditional 2020 fourth-round pick. (via @TomPelissero) pic.twitter.com/kYx8JN2Dty

— NFL (@NFL) August 8, 2019

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ursafilms · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 6 – Southern Manhattan Suffers Historic Drop in Average IQ

A three-day weekend. A year ago an enjoyable time for Roger, but now the idea of not going into work for 84 hours, give or take, put everything around him into the slow motion grind of avoidance.

Since his separation, Monday through Friday work served as a distraction. Weekends were another story, but he had the boys every other one, and that made the ones when he did not have Tyler and Max in his John Street apartment, tolerable.

Tip of the Spear, the office, the people, and the projects provided sanctuary for Roger. The routine gave him structure. His coworkers, save for Gary, did not ask him about the separation and kept their conversations relegated to the business of advertising. He worked late many nights, which delayed the return to the empty apartment in southern Manhattan.

****

The agency represented home and family for Roger now. Taking him away from it for a three-day weekend no longer had any appeal.

The actual Fourth of July fell on the Friday of the workweek, and the agency promised the employees that Thursday the 3rdwould be a very short workday. Roger drained every moment out of it he could, and remained at his desk when Gary stopped by at 5pm.

Everyone else left after lunch.

Gary leaned against the doorjamb. He stared at Roger, until he realized that Roger was refusing to acknowledge him.

“Let’s go, Davenport,” he said. “I don’t want to find you in here on Monday morning with three days growth on your face and body odor filling the room.”

Roger forced a weak smile.

“I have my shaving kit with me, and I could always use the shower in the bathroom in your office. I do have all the codes, you know.”

“Is that right?” Asked Gary. “Thanks for reminding me to have them changed once in a while. I’m not good about that.”

Roger exhaled blowing his lips and tongue in a Bronx cheer. Gary laughed and switched off the office lights. The two were out the door; into the elevator; and onto 9thAvenue in two minutes.

A sunny and mild day for July greeted them. Roger shaded his eyes, and slipped his right hand into his briefcase to pull out his sunglasses. He put them on as Gary grabbed his own pair from a side pocket inside his suit jacket.

“I think I could make an excuse,” said Gary. “If you feel a drink would help get you to southern Manhattan in a better frame of mind.”

Roger lifted up his sunglasses and looked at Gary. The two walked the block from 16thto 15thStreet and then over to 8thAvenue.

They halted just in front of the entrance to the subway on the west side of 8thAvenue. Gary was heading uptown. Roger down and across town.

“No thanks,” said Roger. “I’ll take my chances with a very long walk back to John Street. I could certainly use the exercise.”

“Alright, Roger,” said Gary. “I will see you on Tuesday.”

Gary disappeared down the steps. Roger dropped the sunglasses back down on the bridge of his nose and walked to 14thStreet. He was just about to turn left to start his journey in

the cross-town direction, but changed his mind and opted to take Hudson downtown through the old meatpacking district and into a section of Manhattan that showed the effects of capital investment with block after block of retail, newly constructed apartment buildings, and casual restaurants with sidewalk seating.

The usual hustle of humanity on Hudson Street seemed quiet for a pre-Holiday rush hour. No traffic jams. Pedestrian crowds light. That familiar Manhattan crush too many people on too narrow sidewalks had evaporated in a sea of weekend plans.

Roger traversed the distance to and from his apartment to the office often enough to know the route measured just a little longer than two-and-a-half miles and would take him an hour. Maybe longer if he reallytook his time and stopped at a bookstore with no intention of buying a darned thing.

It would be on less hour to kill before the oasis of Monday.

To kill?

***

The Summer in New York City started out with lower than normal temperatures, and little rain. The 4thof July weekend promised to be no different. Roger walked the distance to his apartment and did not break a sweat. He did have to remove his dark grey suit jacket and loosen his red and blue striped tie.

Roger also took off his hat, a throwback matching Fedora.

Old School described many things about Roger, dress being one of them. He liked the Mad Men style, and dressed in plain darkish suits and skinny ties. His taste in clothing ran conservative and the haberdashery trend the TV show started appealed to him immediately.

Roger Davenport presented the very picture of the television series as he strolled down West Broadway with his jacket slung over his shoulder held by only a single finger of his right hand; briefcase and hat in his left; and the collar of his white shirt just the right amount of open.

And for a while his admin, Joan ironically, greeted him with, “Good morning, Mister Draper. Coffee?”

The exchange worked for both of them, since Roger loved the attention and did not drink coffee, so Joan avoided the Old School female errand of fetching coffee for the male boss.

Gary Kaplan stated that Roger became the saddest advertising creative director on Earth, when the show went off the air. To his credit, though, Roger continued to sport the attire.

****

The hour-killing walk ended. Roger entered his building and took the elevator to the tenth floor. He entered his apartment and stripped off the tie, which he draped over the Barcalounger. Roger took in the view from his apartment, which again existed solely of the building across the street.

“Now what?” He said aloud.

To that, he went to the kitchen and poured about four ounces of bourbon into a tumbler. He reached for the freezer to get a couple of ice cubes, but changed his mind.

“Why bother? It only dilutes it,” he said to no one.

Halfway through the four ounces, he opened his briefcase; took out his laptop; and placed it on a box in the kitchen. Roger unpacked the contents of the box, but he since he hadn’t purchased a table yet, he had nowhere to eat his meals, save for the box. And now, it would serve as a desk, another piece of furniture he’d neglected to buy.

He checked his personal email. Just an annoying reminder from Patricia that she and the boys were away for the Fourth of July Holiday weekend. She did not wish him a happy engagement anniversary just as she had not wished him a happy wedding anniversary on Memorial Day. He read a few news feeds (Nothing new on the murder from Memorial Day); and checked the weather (Continued mild for the week).

Boredom and curiosity drove him to open Google Earth. He had not used the application since Memorial Day, the night of the murder.

He opened the application, but immediately closed it and shut off the computer. Roger left the black screen up.

“What are you doing?” He asked. “Besides talking to yourself?”

He switched on the television

“I’ll just channel surf,” he said out loud. “It will at least kill—”

Nothing interested him on any of the channels, so he went to Netflix and downloaded an episode of Mad Men from the first season. Watching it got him to 11pm. Late enough to call it a night.

Roger got ready for bed, but could not fall asleep. His insomnia was getting worse. Around midnight, he kicked back the covers and walked out to the kitchen. The bourbon enticed from the counter, but he turned away from it.

“Maybe I’ll watch Lost Weekend,” he said. “That will push me in one direction or the other.”

Turning from the bourbon bottle his eyes landed on his laptop, still open from earlier in the evening. He turned it on and opened Google Earth.

“Beats talking to myself, or does it?”

He searched for “Bars Open Near Me Now.” When he looked south from Theater Alley, he saw something he did not want to see.

At Liberty Place, south of Theater Alley, the exact same figure in the same position poised to execute another victim. A chill ran through Roger and he shook his head like a dog. He looked again. Still there.

He hit Command-Shift-4; heard the reassuring sound effect of a camera shutter snapping; and waited for a screen capture to appear on his desktop. It did. He emailed it to himself.

Roger double-clicked on it and when it opened, the shadow figure was there; knife positioned overhead; victim and blood underneath. He could get no further detail on the assailant, but the recipient of the stabbing appeared to be another young woman.

Roger shot out of the kitchen and into the living room. He grabbed the land-line and called 911.

“911. What is the nature of your emergency?”

“I, uh, think I’m watching, uh, witnessing a murder!”

“Where is this occurring, sir?”

“Uh, Liberty Place, below - !” He replies.

“I’m familiar with the area. What is your name, sir?” She asks.

“I don’t want to give you my name,” he replies. “Please send someone over there right away. I called several weeks ago when--,” and Roger stopped talking.

“Hold the line, please,” she says.

Roger rocks back and forth on his bare feet. He opens his mouth to say something into the receiver and reaches, once more, for the ‘End’ button. He pulls his hand back.

“It’s the same thing AGAIN! Should I run over there? The police are not going to believe it. They didn’t believe it last time!” He lowered his voice to a whisper when he realized he was getting loud.

“Detective Cooper, homicide.”

The same detective.

“DETECTIVE COOPER! HOMICIDE!”

“At least you yelled all the words this time,” said Roger, with a Peter Lorre laugh at the end of his statement.

“Is this Mike Williams?”

Roger dropped the phone. He picked it up.

“What?” Asked Roger. He fumbled and dropped the phone again. He got to the floor and shouted into the speaker. “Yes. Yes. This is Mike Williams.”

Another pause. Cooper covered the mouthpiece and motion to his partner. Acheson gave the thumbs up that the trace had started from the moment the dispatcher took the call.

“What is it this time, Mister Williams?” Asked Detective Cooper. “Did you see a murder committed on Facebook?”

“What? Uh, no Detective. It’s the same thing. I mean except it’s over on Liberty Place, and this time I have a screen capture.”

“You have a what?” Asked Cooper.

“A screen capture. I can send it to you. Just need an email address.” Roger answered. His voice cracked on the last statement.

“Alright, Mister Williams,” said Cooper. “Why don’t I find out exactly who you send it to. I’ll be right back.”

“You’ll be right back? What does that mean? Detective, there may be a murder going on right now, exactly the same as the one several weeks ago that occurred on Theater Alley!”

Roger heard a faint hum on the phone line, and he banged the received down into its cradle. He checked his pants pockets for his keys, and finding them in his left, bolted out the door and into the elevator. If the police were not going to at least send a patrol car over to Liberty Place, he would run over there now. The location of the Google Earth murder was only two blocks south of his John Street apartment.

The elevator chugged up to his floor and he bounced up and down on his toes as he waited for it. It arrived and he got on.

It stopped on the third floor. Roger exhaled. A young woman stepped inside. Her hair, streaked with lavender. Earbuds implanted above her studded lobes.

The doors opened on the ground floor and Roger shot out into the lobby. He collided with two NYPD policemen. Both officers lightly restrained Roger. The older of them, a

swarthy man of about 45 with a well-trimmed gray mustache tightened his grip. Roger read ‘Stephan Murkowski” on his nameplate over his shirt pocket.

“You Roger Davenport, also known as Mike Williams?” he asked.

Roger stopped what had been a weak struggle. The police had traced his phone call and found out his name; where he lived; and dispatched a patrol car to pick him up.

“I’ll be whoever you like, but I, uh, can you please come down to Liberty Place with me?” He implored. Roger shouted the words at the officers, who blinked in synch.

“We have orders to take you directly to the precinct station, Mister Davenport. Detective Cooper will see you there,” said Officer Murkowski.

His partner, a younger Asian man named Arthur Lee, reached for a pair of handcuffs clipped to his belt. Officer Murkowski waved his hand back and forth.

“We aren’t going to need to cuff you, are we Mister Davenport?” He asked.

“No,” said a contrite Roger. “But I will ask you once more to please drive past Liberty Place. I’m sure it’s on the way to the precinct.”

Lee and Murkowski exchanged a look.

“I think we can do that,” said Murkowski.

“Thank you,” said Roger. “Can we hurry?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone ask to hurry to the police station, have you Arthur?” Joked Murkowski.

“Nope. It’s a first.” replied Officer Lee.

The policemen and Roger walked out of the building. The officers allowed Roger to place himself in the backseat of the patrol car. They drove south on Gold and, because of the heavy construction blocking vehicular traffic, turned right on Liberty Street. When they arrived at the alley of Liberty Place, the officers hopped out of the car, and made a cursory look around.

Not a person in sight, but had they been two minutes earlier, they might have seen a body being dragged out of the alley and hidden underneath a dumpster that had just been dropped off that afternoon in the area. And if the officers had stayed two minutes longer they might have spotted the trickle of the victim’s blood pooling just outside the dumpster. The next day the body of Nickie Walsh, the 25-year-old Goldman-Sachs intern would be discovered where Ruben had hidden it.

“Sorry, Mister Davenport,” said Officer Lee. “But that alleyway is, uh, dead. There is no one there.”

“Thanks for checking it out,” said a dejected Roger. “You can take your time now.”

Officer Murkowski allowed himself a laugh as Roger slumped in the back seat. He pushed himself further and further into the cushions while they rode to the precinct.

CHAPTER 6 TO BE CONTINUED

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