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hamiltonmoverspackers · 3 years ago

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Pros of Having Professional Pool Table Movers On Service

A pool table is not any ordinary piece of furniture, which you can easily handle on your own. A billiard table is an expensive item that provides charm to the locality of your room. The pool table is used to play cue sports in a limited area.

People having fun whenever they found themselves around it.

But what about the part when you try to move it by yourself.

It’s not one of the most secure ideas.

It takes intense care on every step while moving it.

This short description may not clear the image in your mind but, looking by the size of a pool table, the task of shifting it is a hard nut to crack.

But you don’t need to stretch your muscles for that when our professional team of pool table movers are here to help you.

Our firm Hamilton Movers Packers will make sure the smooth movement of your pool table to its new location in no time.

Hamilton Movers Packers stands upon all the mandatory guidelines given by epic regulatory associations for removals services in NZ. These agencies helps protect the customers and their rights by decertifying fraudulent movers and comforting border regulations for removalists of NZ.

What part will our professional pool table movers play in the movement of your pool table?

Of course, they will play the most relevant part of bringing your pool table to its new place.

As a team of experienced workers, this is there primarily target to give you the best billiard table removals service.

Our team will ensure that not a single part of your pool tables like the slate, cabinets, bed cloth, rails, frame and, more will damage during the entire process.

By a short margin or a large margin, our team will move your pool table the way you wanted it to move.

What will be the procedure of our team of pool table movers to move your pool table?

Taking out the blueprint of your current and new layout will be our first objective. It will make our team understands the surface area every room share with another room in your place.

It will expand the roots of how we are going to move your pool table from one location to another without bordering the movement limits.

First, one will begin with the carrying of the entire set of pool table out of its previous place and placed it to its new location without dismantling any part of it.

And the second one is disassembled and reassemble it.

This one is easy to move method but requires proper tools and techniques.

Tools like a staple remover, set of a flathead screwdriver, socket wrench, a power drill, safety goggles will help our team of billiard table movers to make a move.

Steps:-

1- Unhook the pockets- Number one step of disassembling the pool table is to take out its pockets. By using a screwdriver or staple removal, the members of our team are unfastening the pocket one by one.

2- Disengage the rail- Now we get the rail out safely by removing all the bolts from the section by the help of a socket wrench.

3- Remove the felt- The felt of the table is removed by three methods. Either we use the staple remover to pull it out or pull the cloth gently in the backward motion in the case when your felt is glued to the table or just simply, rip it off if you have pre-planned to replace it.

4- Take out the slate- After choosing one of the options from the above. We come down to the hardest part of this process.

Our team use the drill to remove the screws of the slate. And release the slates one by one. With the combined strength of our team, we remove the slate without causing any damage.

5- Remove the frame and legs- After successfully deal with the above part. The process of finishing this last step is now in effect.

Our team of billiard table movers will flip the remaining part and remove each leg and spare part of the frame.

Here the steps of disassembling of your pool table are done.

Packaging And Storage

The use of re-sealable bags, set of moving blankets or thick regular blankets, sheets of bubble wrap, packing tape will provide the safe touch to all the items of your pool table.

And by using the strong multi-wheel dolly. Your pool table will we store in our safe warehouse.

Arrival at the new location

If you want to move your pool table from one room to another than you don’t need us to cover all the steps above. It is quite easy for us.

But if your new location is further away from the current one. Then your pool table needs our transportation help. With the variety of Trucks and vans, you have no issue in the compatibility section.

After arrival at the new place, your pool table will be reassembled in the same shape by covering all the steps backward.

After completing our work and takes your remark, we bid you a farewell. And hope we cover up every expectation you have from us.

Cost of our pool table movers service

This part is not lengthy. Not for you, not for our customers. Because of the service charge, we offer you always come under your budget.

The Reliable pool table movers

We believe in quality service in no time with minimum cost. That’s why many of our customers believe in us. And Hamilton Movers Packers assure the promise of a healthy relation with them.

Article Source: https://hamiltonmoverspackers.co.nz/blog/pros-of-having-professional-pool-table-movers-on-service/

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46ten · 4 years ago

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AH: marriage and military service should not mix

The summary of this post: A lot of historians have noted how important AH’s marriage to EH was to his future, a true before and after marker in his life. But the strangeness of it has gotten less attention - AH married while the war was going on, and even wrote of not hanging around the army at all in order to setup for his life with his new wife. Once one sees the oddity of that, a lot of other things fall into place in his 1780/81 letters.

For the past few years, I’ve wanted to work more on the theory that although marriage was generally expected of the 18th century Anglo-American colonial man (see prior posts here and here), the elite in AH’s circle did not marry until their military obligations and other duties were complete. From their examples and a few phrases here and there, getting married seemed to have been frowned upon, perhaps because of the uncomfortable examples of general’s wives and this idea that romantic love with a woman was a weakness that interfered with duty and hindered one’s commitment to military glory. (I am familiar with the challenges faced by Martha Washington, Catharine Greene, and Lucy Knox; Philip Schuyler refused a return to military assignment and presidency of the Continental Congress after the death of a newborn, among other things, in 1778). AH is an exception among his circle, with Meade, in getting married during the war itself - nearly everyone else who is unmarried waits until after their military service is complete (and sometimes well after) to marry. Not enough is made of the oddity of his courtship and marriage, within his circle, while the war is ongoing.

Now to modern thought, the title of this post makes a lot of sense - relationships are often strained when one partner is in military service, and the hows and whys are very familiar to us. But for the 18th century, when adult manhood was tied to matrimony, avoiding matrimony seems odd, as does the length of some of the courtships of AH’s friends: two years for William Jackson, about the same for Tilghman, four years of flirtation for McHenry. At a time when engagements lasted a matter of weeks (and AH notes that his own is unusually long - it’s lasting “an age” in one of his letters to ES), the delay in taking the next step is notable. Even in the prior generation, although Philip Schuyler was sexually intimate with Catharine Van Rensselaer, he continued his military service and did not marry her until it became unavoidable by decency standards (CVR was 4 months pregnant).

So what’s with AH and ES wanting to get married in such a hurry, comparatively, besides the obvious emotional ones? Maybe he really was 26-27 years old and time was running out! Another obvious possibility, noted then and noted by biographers since, was the benefits of their marriage on a personal and political dynastic level. @aswithasunbeam has noted a contemporary article (sourced from Mitchell) about what Philip Schuyler had to gain through the new attachment between himself and Washington’s aide-de-camp. (And look how quickly P. Schuyler had AH working to get GW to visit them.) The advantages for AH were obvious to, as the Marquis de Fleury stated outright to AH: “ I congratulate you heartyly on that conquest; for many Reasons: the first that you will get all that familly’s interest, & that a man of your abilities wants a Little influence to do good to his country. The second that you, will be in a very easy situation, & happin’s is not to be found without a Large estate.”

I also suspect part of AH’s decision to hurriedly marry was tied to getting a command and spending the rest of his time studying the law.* I agree with most biographers that he never takes the steps of leaving Washington’s family and asking for (Nov 1780) and then demanding (June 1781) a command without being Philip Schuyler’s son-in-law. (I also think the break with GW doesn’t happen without AH feeling VERY confident in his relationship with his new wife. EH should have been a better patriot - as in other times - and seemed less happy in her marriage, or at least not let AH read her letter to her sister.) I think that’s what Laurens knew while on parole in Phil. and causes the minor flurry of letters in late August/September 1780, when P. Schuyler was briefly at HQ and then sending lots of letters about Congress to GW, AH was going on about his planned six month leave, McHenry was writing a love poem about AH and ES and trying to get AH to get P. Schuyler’s help in getting him a command, etc . AH and ES likely intended to marry in October/early November, but both Meade and Harrison took leave instead, and AH had to stay, though he would leave in late November before their return (in fact, Harrison and Meade never returned.)

Take Laurens (left wife and daughter he’d never see in England) and Lafayette (absent from France from March 1777 to Feb 1779 and March 1780 to early 1782). Both of them left wife and child(ren) behind, and here AH was planning a long absence from military service and telling his fiancee that he’ll leave it entirely if that’s her wish. AND Meade is discussing doing exactly that! [So Laurens presumably wrote to AH - we don’t have that letter - that he hopes AH will get over this quickly, and AH wrote back that he won’t, but I’m getting ahead of myself.]

I offered to make a comparison of AH’s letters to Laurens vs Elizabeth Schuyler - while revealing of personal feelings, in content and expression they are more different than they are similar - but I think I first need to set up that major transition that’s occurring in AH’s life in 1780/81. To the extent Laurens may have objected to AH’s excitement about ES and their impending nuptials (and there’s only one phrase in one letter, and that from AH to Laurens, from which it can be interpreted that those were Laurens’ feelings), and AH felt embarrassed about conveying the news of his engagement, it was because it interfered with a (believed to be mutual) sense of military obligation and public duty and dismissal of marriage and its attendant obligations. I touch on it in a response here; I’ll try to elaborate on it in upcoming posts. [I will get into why this makes the most sense, and why claims of AH trying to spare any romantic feelings JL may have felt, quite frankly, do not make sense in a later post. Spoiler: AH wrote absurdly callous stuff re ES and his relationship with her in his letters to JL if he was hoping to spare JL’s feelings.]

I already put some of my thoughts on this in old posts that may have some helpful content and may spare me having to repeat myself too much, and then I’ll also provide some quotes from letters to get started, limited to 1777-1782 and then probably the most famous quote from 1799.

Hamilton on marriage part 1 (overview)

Hamilton on marriage part 2 (feelings on marriage 1777-early 1780)

Hamilton-Schuyler engagement (early 1780-mid 1780)

Hamilton on marriage part 3 (my breakdown of the July-Oct 1780 letters to ES)

Hamilton on marriage part 4

Reynolds Pamphlet, part 2

And a post (not my own) about how much AH’s military involvement as Inspector General was affecting his family financially.

Letter quotes [my emphases]:

You and I, as well as our neighbours, are deeply interested to pray for victory, and its necessary attendant peace; as, among other good effects, they would remove those obstacles, which now lie in the way of that most delectable thing, called matrimony;—a state, which, with a kind of magnetic force, attracts every breast to it, in which sensibility has a place, in spite of the resistance it encounters in the dull admonitions of prudence, which is so prudish and perverse a dame, as to be at perpetual variance with it. AH to Catharine “Kitty” Livingston 11Apr1777

Do I want a wife? No—I have plagues enough without desiring to add to the number that greatest of all; and if I were silly enough to do it, I should take care how I employ a proxy. AH to John Laurens 1779 [likely from mid-April up to July - this letter is actually undated, and the April date is based on other mentions in the letter; both JCH and Lodge dated it December 1779]

The most determined adversaries of Hymen can find in [ES] no pretext for their hostility, and there are several of my friends, philosophers who railed at love as a weakness, men of the world who laughed at it as a phantasie, whom she has presumptuously and daringly compelled to acknowlege its power and surrender at discretion. I can the better assert the truth of this, as I am myself of the number. She has had the address to overset all the wise resolutions I had been framing for more than four years past, and from a rational sort of being and a professed contemner of Cupid has in a trice metamorphosed me into the veriest inamorato you perhaps ever saw. AH to Margarita Schuyler, Feb1780

I would add to this by way of consolation, or rather of countinance, that the family since your departure have given hourly proofs of a growing weakness. Example I verily believe is infectious. For such a predominancy is beauty establishing over their hearts, that should things continue to wear as sweet an aspect as they are now beheld in, I shall be the only person left, of the whole household, to support the dignity of human nature. But in good earnest, God bless both you, and your weakness, and preserve me your sincere friend James McHenry to AH, 18March1780 [this was during the time of AH’s courtship of ES]

Here we are my love in a house of great hospitality—in a country of plenty—a buxom girl under the same roof—pleasing ⟨expect⟩ations of a successful campaign—and every thing to make a soldier happy, who is not in love and absent from his mistress. ... Assure yourself my love that you are seldom a moment absent from my mind, that I think of you constantly and talk of you frequently, I am never happier than when I can engage Meade in some solitary walk to join me in reciprocating the praises of his widow and my betsey. AH to ES, 6July1780

I hope for a decisive campaign. No one will desire it more than me; for a military life is now grown insupportable to me because it keeps me from all my soul holds dear. Adieu My love. Write to me often I entreat you, and do not suffer any part of my treasure, your sweet love, to be lost or stolen from me. AH to ES, 20Jul1780

Impatiently My Dearest have I been expecting the return of your father to bring me a letter from my charmer with the answers you have been good enough to promise me to the little questions asked in mine by him. ... Meade2 just comes in and interrupts me by sending his love to you. He tells you he has written a long letter to his widow asking her opinion of the propriety of quitting the service; and that if she does not disapprove it, he will certainly take his final leave after the campaign. You see what a fine opportunity she has to be enrolled in the catalogue of heroines, and I dare say she will set you an example of fortitude and patriotism. I know too you have so much of the Portia in you, that you will not be out done in this line by any of your sex, and that if you saw me inclined to quit the service of your country, you would dissuade me from it. I have promised you, you recollect, to conform to your wishes, and I persist in this intention. It remains with you to show whether you are a Roman or an American wife. AH to ES, Aug1780

But now my love to speak of the practicability of complying with both our wishes in this article—There is none, I am obliged to sacrifice my inclination to ⟨my public⟩ ch⟨aracter.⟩ Even though my presence shou⟨ld n⟩ot be essential here, yet my love I could not with decency or honor leave the army during the campaign. This is a military prejudice which while I am in a military station I must comply with. No person has been more severe than I have been in condemning other officers for deviating from it. I have admitted no excuse as sufficient, and I must not now evince to the army, that the moment my circumstances have changed, my maxims have changed also. This would be an inconsistency, and my Betsey would not have me guilty of an inconsistency. Besides this my Betsey, The General is peculiarly averse to the practice in question. If this campaign is to end my military services, ’tis an additional reason for a constant and punctual attendance, if it is not my leaving the army during the campaign would make it less proper to be away all the winter ’till late in the spring. In one case, my honor bids me stay, in the other my love. AH to ES, 31Aug1780

Pardon me my love for talking politics to you. What have we to do with any thing but love? Go the world as it will, in each others arms we cannot but be happy. ...I was once determined to let my existence and American liberty end together. My Betsey has given me a motive to outlive my pride, I had almost said my honor; but America must not be witness to my disgrace. AH to ES, 6Sept1780

I have told you, and I told you truly that I love you too much. You engross my thoughts too intirely to allow me to think of any thing else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness. ‘Tis a pretty story indeed that I am to be thus monopolized, by a little nut-brown maid like you—and from a statesman and a soldier metamorphosed into a puny lover. I believe in my soul you are an inchantress; but I have tried in vain, if not to break, at least, to weaken the charm—you maintain your empire in spite of all my efforts—and after every new one, I make to withdraw myself from my allegiance my partial heart still returns and clings to you with increased attachment. To drop figure my lovely girl you become dearer to me every moment. I am more and more unhappy and impatient under the hard necessity that keeps me from you, and yet the prospect lengthens as I advance. AH to ES, 5Oct1780

I would not have you imagine Miss that I write to you so often either to gratify your wishes or to please your vanity; but merely to indulge myself and to comply with that restless propensity of my mind, which will not allow me to be happy when I am not doing something in which you are concerned. This may seem a very idle disposition in a philosopher and a soldier; but I can plead illustrious examples in my justification. Achilles had liked to have sacrificed Greece and his glory to his passion for a female captive; and Anthony lost the world for a woman. I am sorry the times are so changed as to oblige me to summon antiquity for my apology, but I confess, to the disgrace of the present age, that I have not been able to find many who are as far gone as myself in such laudable zeal for the fair sex. AH to ES, 13Oct1780

How often have I with Eloisa exclaimed against those forms which I now revere as calculated to knit our union together by new and stronger bands...Meade already begins to recant. I have received a letter from him on the Journey2 in which he tells me he finds he must return to the army. This will be a new proof to you that I cannot leave it, as we both so ardently desire. AH to ES, 27Oct1780

You possess a heart that can feel for me; you have a female too that you love. I was reduced at one period to entreat, threat, kiss, but all to no purpose; her fears were for my safety, mine for hers. You must imagine to make out the tragedy all that I am incapable for want of words to express. After placing her with at least Twenty other females & children at a safe distance I immediately returned, & joined the Baron about the time the Enemy left Richmond in order to render him all the aid I could being intimately acquainted with the Country for many miles in the vicinity of the Enemy & on their return down the river I left him to go in pursuit of a residence for a favorite Brother who was driven from his home & obliged to attend to his Wife & a family of little children. Was it not cruel my dear fellow that my matrimonial enjoyments should have been interrupted thus soon; not more than one month had passed when the damned invasion seperated us, & we have yet to meet again, for 60 miles divides us. You know I am a Philosoper my dr fd & prepared to meet much more serious disappointments. This gives me an opening to speak of my return to the army. I have been long wishing your advice in full on the occasion; you are acquainted with the arguments I have used in favor of my stay here. I have now but one to add to them, the experience of that happiness I ever expected to enjoy with the best of Women. She loves not less than your Betsy, & I fear could not bear a seperation. I have not however as yet thrown off the uniform, but I am inclined to believe that it must be the case. Meade to AH, 13Jan1781

I was cherishing the melancholy pleasure of thinking of the sweets I had left behind and was so long to be deprived of, when a servant from Head Quarters presented me with your letters. I feasted for some time on the sweet effusions of tenderness they contained, and my heart returned every sensation of yours. Alas my Betsey you have divested it of every other pretender and placed your image there as the sole proprietor. I struggle with an excess which I cannot but deem a weakness and endeavour to bring myself back to reason and duty. I remonstrate with my heart on the impropriety of suffering itself to be engrossed by an individual of the human race when so many millions ought to participate in its affections and in its cares. But it constantly presents you under such amiable forms as seem too well to justify its meditated desertion of the cause of country humanity, and of glory I would say, if there were not something in the sound insipid and ridiculous when compared with the sacrifices by which it is to be attained.

Indeed Betsey, I am intirely changed—changed for the worse I confess—lost to all the public and splendid passions and absorbed in you. Amiable woman! nature has given you a right to be esteemed to be cherished, to be beloved; but she has given you no right to monopolize a man, whom, to you I may say, she has endowed with qualities to be extensively useful to society. Yes my Betsey, I will encourage my reason to dispute your empire and restrain it within proper bounds, to restore me to myself and to the community. Assist me in this; reproach me for an unmanly surrender of that to love and teach me that your esteem will be the price of my acting well my part as a member of society. AH to EH, 13Jul1781

Don’t think me unkind for not talking of your making a journey to the Southward. It would put us to a thousand inconveniences and would in fact be of no avail; for while there I must be engrossed in my military duties. Heaven knows how much it costs me to make the sacrifice I do. It is too much to be torn away from the wife of my bosom from a woman I love to weakness, and who feels the same ardent passion for me. I relinquish a heaven in your arms; but let me have the happiness to reflect that they ever impatiently wait my return sacred to love and me. Give your Mama, your sisters and the whole family every assurance of the warmest affection on my part. Indeed I love them all.

Yrs. with unalterable tenderness and fidelity AH to EH, 25Aug1781

Early in November, as I promised you, we shall certainly meet. Cheer yourself with this idea, and with the assurance of never more being separated. Every day confirms me in the intention of renouncing public life, and devoting myself wholly to you. AH to EH, 6Sept1781

My heart disposed to gayety is at once melted into tenderness. The idea of a smiling infant in my Betseys arms calls up all the father in it. In imagination I embrace the mother and embrace the child a thousand times. I can scarce refrain from shedding tears of joy. But I must not indulge these sensations; they are unfit for the boisterous scenes of war and whenever they intrude themselves make me but half a soldier. AH to EH, 12Oct1781

You cannot imagine how entirely domestic I am growing. I lose all taste for the pursuits of ambition, I sigh for nothing but the company of my wife and my baby. The ties of duty alone or imagined duty keep me from renouncing public life altogether. It is however probable I may not be any longer actively engaged in it.

I have explained to you the difficulties which I met with in obtaining a command last campaign. I thought it incompatible with the delicacy due to myself to make any application this campaign. I have expressed this Sentiment in a letter to the General and retaining my rank only, have relinquished the emoluments of my commission, declaring myself notwithstanding ready at all times to obey the calls of the Public.4 I do not expect to hear any of these unless the State of our Affairs, should change for the worse and lest by any unforeseen accident that should happen, I choose to keep myself in a situation again to contribute my aid. This prevents a total resignation.

You were right in supposing I neglected to prepare what I promised you at Philadelphia. The truth is, I was in such a hurry to get home that I could think of nothing else. AH to Meade, March 1782 (from a JCH transcription)

You were right, My dear General, in saying that a Soldier should have no Other wife than the service...William North to AH, 12Nov1799

AND just for amusement:

I thank you My Dear Sir for the military figures you have sent me. Tactics you know are literally or figuratively of very comprehensive signification. As people grow old they decline in some arts though they may improve in others. I will try to get Mrs. Hamilton to accompany in games of Tactics new to her. Perhaps she may get a taste for them & become better reconciled to my connection with the Trade-Militant. AH to McHenry, 21June1799

__________________________________________

*I broke this down in a prior post too, but I’ll repeat it here again: I think the clearest statement of his plan left to us is from the draft of the letter he sent to Philip Schuyler explaining why he wants to break with GW (18Feb1781):

As I cannot think of quitting the army during the war, I have a project of re-entering into the artillery, by taking Lieutenant-Colonel Forrest’s10 place, who is⟩ desirous of retiring on half pay. I have not however made up my mind upon this , Start insertion,head, End,, as I should be obliged to come in the youngest Lt Col instead of the eldest, which I , Start deletion,should, End, , Start insertion,ought to, End, have been by natural succession had I remained in the corps; and , Start insertion,at the same time, End, to resume studies relative to the profession which, to avoid inferiority, must be laborious.

If a handsome command for the campaign in the , Start insertion,light, End, infantry should offer itself, I shall ballance between this and the artillery. My situation ⟨in the latter⟩ would be more , Start deletion,substantial, End, , Start insertion,solid, End, ⟨and permanent;⟩ but as I hope ⟨the war will not last long enough to make it progressive, this consideration has the less force. A command for the campaign would leave me the winter to prosecute studies relative to my future career in life. With⟩ respect to the former, I have been materially the worse for going into his family.11

I have written to you on this subject with all the freedom and confidence to which you have a right and with an assurance of the interest you take in , Start deletion,what, End, , Start insertion,all that, End, concerns me.

This letter implies 1) he had a plan post-military; 2) he had discussed with PS what that plan was, and possibly that six month leave (that never happened because of illness and unavailability) was tied to undertaking some of those studies to be a lawyer, to put himself in better shape to support a family. Being able to do so was important to AH - Philip Hamilton was born Jan 1782, and Angelica would not be born until Sept 1784.

#Alexander Hamilton #Elizabeth Schuyler #Elizabeth S. Hamilton #18th century masculinity #Philip Schuyler #John Laurens #I've always found it interesting that he references Achilles to state his willingness to #throw everything away for a woman (Briseis)

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aswithasunbeam · 5 years ago

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I have a prompt idea: Jealous Ham post-RP, some men are you know giving Eliza that “I can treat you better” energy and Ham’s like: “You can’t expect me to just sit here and not fight for you, not fight for us” Canon era preferably but whatever works best for your style. I hope you find the time to fit this in!

A combination of a couple different prompts (those above and another asking for jealous Ham) that had to do with Ham and Eliza after the Reynolds Pamphlet - thanks to everyone for the great suggestions!

–

Trifles Light as Air

Rated: Teen and Up

“Well, if it isn’t little Betsey Schuyler. It’s been an age since I last set eyes on you.”

Eliza started slightly and looked away from the portrait she’d been studying to find Philip Van Cortlandt approaching her with a wide, open smile. Alexander had been whisked away almost the moment they’d entered, leaving her to bear the weight of the curious guests, eager to gather more tidbits about New York’s most salacious scandal to feed to the maw of the gossip mill. She’d found this out of the way little corner to hide when the stares of the room had felt too oppressive.

“Phil,” she greeted, allowing him to scoop her into a friendly embrace. “I think I was beating you to the top of that big oak on your father’s property last we met, if memory serves.

They’d had a few brief encounters since, of course, the Van Cortlandts and Schuylers entwined as they were, but Phil laughed and readily played along.

“Right after stealing all my marbles.”

“I won them fair and square,” she retorted.

He held her by the shoulders as he released her from the hug, looking at her with a fond expression. “It’s good to see you, Bess.”

“And you,” she said, surprised at the sincerity of the words. “But you know it’s Betsey Hamilton now.”

The reminder of her married name caused something to darken behind Phil’s eyes. “Yes, that’s right. I’d heard.”

She felt blood rising to her cheeks in shame for just what he’d likely heard of late. “Art thou a wife?” a recent article had taunted. “See him, whom thou hast chosen for the partner of this life, lolling in the lap of a harlot!” Her eyes were cast down towards the floor, fighting the familiar wave of humiliation and anger.

“A day of great heartbreak for me, I’ll have you know, when I learned of your nuptials,” Phil continued, a note of forced joviality in his voice. She met his kind grey eyes again. “I was always rather sweet on you.”

She smiled at that. “Really? I didn’t know.”

Wry amusement lit his expression. “I suppose it wouldn’t have risen to your notice. Half of Albany society was sweet on you, after all. What was one among the throng?”

“That’s not true,” she argued.

“It assuredly is.” He held out an elbow to her. “Take a turn with me, Bess. We’ve so much to catch up on.”

She took his arm. “Tell me, how is your dear sister?”

“Oh, Catherine’s well, married and settled. Helping me look after the manor, in fact.”

“Really?”

They settled into easy, familiar conversation as they walked.

She was laughing by the time the call came for dinner, real, true, wonderful laughs that made her cheeks ache from all the smiling. Their trip down memory lane had been far more pleasant than she had imagined, reminders of the girl she’d been sweeping over her like being reintroduced to an old, dear friend. Phil escorted her into the dining room and held out her chair, lowering himself into the seat beside her without the least bit of care for their hosts seating arrangements.

“You’d already pushed poor Peter down in the mud. I didn’t think I stood a chance,” Phil teased as the soup was ladled into his bowl by a servant.

“I didn’t push him,” Eliza said. “He fell.”

“Sure, sure,” Phil replied, tone full of doubt. She shoved playfully at his shoulder as went to raise his spoon. “See, you’re at it again.”

The sound of a sneeze from a way down the table drew her attention away from their private merriment. Alexander was snuffling into a handkerchief and waving off a chorus of “Bless you” from those around him. It was the first she’d noticed he’d rejoined the wider party. Their eyes met, and his jaw clenched before he pointedly looked away.

Unhappy with her, then.

She allowed Phil to reclaim her attention and heard herself laughing with him just a touch louder than before.

They were sipping a sweet dessert wine in a corner of the parlor when Alexander finally approached them.

“Colonel Hamilton,” Phil greeted, courteous if not particularly warm.

“General Van Cortlandt,” Alexander nodded, a peculiar emphasis on the rank. A flash of memory recalled that Phil had been promoted after Yorktown in thanks for his brave service in battle before leaving the army; an honor not similarly granted to her husband. “I suppose I should thank you for so thoroughly entertaining my wife this evening.”

“No need, Colonel. Bess and I go way back. We’ve been trading stories from our youth. She and her sisters terrorized and fascinated in equal measure every young man in New York society.”

“I have no doubt,” Alexander said, and though he smiled, he didn’t look particularly amused. He finally looked at her as he added, “Well, I hate to interrupt your reunion, dearest, but I was hoping to slip away shortly. This head cold of mine is growing a bit bothersome.”

His pallor and bright pink nose attested to his misery readily enough, though she couldn’t help but wonder if they’d be leaving so early had she been silently suffering in a corner by herself.

“I can see her home, Colonel, if you need to retire for the evening,” Phil offered.

She felt Alexander watching her, waiting for her to refuse, to jump to his aid, to coo and comfort him while they waited outside for their carriage together. Months ago, that’s exactly what she would have done if he’d confessed to feeling poorly at a dinner. But then, she thought again of that taunting headline, of Philip’s expression when she’d mentioned her marriage, something sour curling in her stomach.

“That would be lovely, Philip, thank you.”

Alexander’s jaw bunched again, and his eyes flashed. “Eliza.”

“What?”

His lips hardly moved as he hissed, “You’ve made your point.”

She straightened her posture and narrowed her eyes. “My point?”

“Just come,” he said, holding his hand out to her expectantly.

“I expect you can see yourself home and get yourself to bed without my assistance, dearest.” She hurled the endearment like an insult and noted with satisfaction his slight flinch as it landed. “I’d like to stay. I’m enjoying reconnecting with my old friend immensely.”

His gaze swiveled between her and Phil, color rising in his cheeks.

“Fine,” he bit out. He looked for a moment like he was going to stalk off in a fit of anger, but then he paused, as though thinking better of it, and bowed slightly to Phil. “Enjoy your evening.”

“Feel better, Colonel,” Phil replied.

When Alexander caught her eyes one last time, he didn’t look angry, she noticed; rather, he looked stricken, almost betrayed.

She wanted to slap him. Her teeth clenched as she watched him retreat, her breath loud and deliberate through her nostrils as she tried to reign her temper in. The nerve of him, to act as if he were the aggrieved party in any of this.

Lolling in the lap of a harlot.

Tears pricked at her eyes.

“Come on, Bess,” Phil encouraged, voice soft. “Let’s go for a walk.”

She swallowed, swiping at her eyes quickly, and nodded. “Thank you.”

The chilly fall air helped ease her distressed thoughts, and soon enough they were laughing over old times again. By the time they’d climbed into Phil’s carriage, she had the passing thought that she didn’t wish for the night to end. She relaxed back against the soft cushions of the seat and requested, “Could we drive around for a little while? Before you bring me home?”

He smiled easily and leaned out the open window to call, “The scenic route, John, as you please!”

“Yes, sir,” she heard the driver reply before the horses started off down the cobblestone street.

Phil watched her as they rode, mouth taut in careful consideration. She kept her expression open, waiting for him to speak. At last, he said, “This may be an impertinent question, considering we aren’t closely acquainted in our adult lives.”

“What is it?” she invited.

“Have spoken to someone yet?”

Her brow furrowed.

“An attorney, I mean?”

“An attorney?” she repeated, more confused. What need did she have for an attorney; and really, if she did, it’s not as if she didn’t have Alexander close to hand to manage any legal issues she might encounter.

“Even if he’s willing to go along with you, which I’d hope he is given the state of the evidence against him, you ought to be sure your interests are being looked after.”

“I don’t—”

“And, forgive me, I know this is unpardonably forward, and you’ll need time to settle, of course, but…well, I want you to know that I wouldn’t think any less of you, any differently of you, than any lovely unmarried or widowed lady.”

If she were divorced, she understood, his meaning dawning on her with awful clarity. He would still think her suitable for courting if she were divorced.

“I’ve always thought the world of you, Bess.”

“Phil, I….” She closed her eyes a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. Alexander rose up in her mind’s eye: the little half smile played on his lips; the pattern of freckles she traced upon his back each night; the way his hand felt when it closed around hers, fitting over her palm so perfectly. “I love my husband. I have no intention of leaving him.”

“Oh.” He sat back, nonplussed. “I…I thought…especially the way you were together tonight, so cool, I just assumed…. Pray, pardon me.”

“There’s nothing to pardon,” she assured him. “And as for tonight, loving him doesn’t mean I don’t want to throttle him on occasion. More so of late than ever before.”

He chuckled softly.

When the carriage pulled up in front of her house, Phil dismounted first and held his hand out to her. She took it, pausing before him, and leaned in to give him a fond kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for a lovely evening. I hope we’ll do a better job of staying in touch than incidental dinners and family gatherings.”

“I’d like that, Mrs. Hamilton.”

She smiled as she turned towards home.

She thought she saw the curtains rustle before the window of Alexander’s office and frowned. Surely, he’d gone up to bed when he’d come home? When she let herself in the front door, she saw that, indeed, candlelight still spilled out from under the door to his office.

Sighing, she unwrapped her cloak, hung it up neatly on the stand beside his coat, and steeled herself for another encounter with her infuriating husband. She gave three short knocks upon his office door before pushing inside. “I’m home.”

He was seated at his desk, a hand pressed against his forehead as he wiped at his nose with a handkerchief. “I heard the carriage pull up,” he muttered.

“I thought you were going straight to bed to tend to your cold. What are you still doing up? It’s getting late now.”

“Quite late.” His tone turned icy. “Did you enjoy your evening?”

“I did, in fact. I know you and he don’t see eye to eye politically, but he’s a very old friend of mine.”

“A very good friend, by the look of it.”

“Stop it, Alexander,” she warned.

“It was a suitable punishment, I’ll grant you, watching you fawn all over another man all evening.”

“I was not fawning all over him,” she argued. “And what are you talking about? You think I was punishing you?”

“I suppose you’ll tell me I ought not be angry over being given a taste of my own medicine.”

Her voice turned deadly quiet. “That’s not what I was doing.”

He stared up at her, something spiteful in his expression. “No?”

She glared at him. “I have another years’ worth of late nights before it would even come close.”

He paled significantly. “So, you…you and he, you…”

She let the silence linger for a cruel moment. The devastation in his eyes wasn’t as satisfying as she’d thought it would be. “No. Nothing happened. Nothing like that. He was a perfect gentleman.”

“He wanted you. He wanted something to happen. I could see it his eyes, the way he looked at you, touched you.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong, she supposed, considering his veiled proposal. The accusation rankled no less. “Don’t be ridiculous. We were childhood friends, that’s all.”

“Childhood sweethearts?” he pressed.

“We raced, and climbed trees, and played marbles, like all children.”

“You kissed him when you got out of the carriage.” He announced this with something almost like triumph, as though he’d trapped her in a lie.

She gave an exasperated sigh. “I kissed him on the cheek, Alexander. It’s not as if you caught us in a passionate embrace.”

He was breathing hard, his cheeks a florid pink oddly juxtaposed against his otherwise sickly pallor. “I don’t want you seeing him again.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t want you alone with him again!”

Her vision flashed red. “You presume to…as if you have the right, ever, to—”

But her fury cut off when she noticed a dribble of bright red blood starting from Alexander’s nostril.

“What?” he asked, visibly confused by her abruptly halted ire.

“Your nose,” she said, motioning to her own nostril. “You’re bleeding.”

He touched his fingers to his nose, smudging blood across his upper lip. A guttural sound issued from his throat as he reached for his handkerchief again, red immediately starting to spread across the bright white fabric as he pressed it to his face. When he started to tilt his head back, she moved towards him.

“No, no, honey, forward a little, or you’ll choke,” she directed. Her hand rested on his neck to encourage him into the right position. With the number of boys in their house, she’d had her share of experience with bloody noses.

Blood continued rushing into the handkerchief and started staining his hand.

“Pinch your nose,” she said. “That’ll slow it. I’ll get you another handkerchief.”

He mumbled something into his handkerchief, voice muffled and congested.

“What was that?”

“Drawer,” he repeated for her, removing a hand from the bloody mess his face had suddenly become to gesture to his desk. “More in the,” he cleared his throat, “the drawer.”

She pulled open the drawer he’d gestured to and pulled out the stack of clean, pressed handkerchiefs he’d squirreled away from himself. Holding one up, she helped him exchange the soaked handkerchief for a clean one, tossing the bloody one into the rubbish bin beside his desk. Then she squatted by his side, her hand tracing slow circles across his upper back.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered into the silence.

“Not your fault,” she hushed him. “Just relax. It will stop soon.”

“I didn’t mean,” he started, sniffling as he moved to handkerchief to check the progress of the bleed, “Not for the bloody nose.”

“Oh.” Her hand paused.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I just…seeing you with him, laughing, relaxed. It made me crazy.”

Her mood darkened. “I know the feeling.”

“I know that. I know you do. And I can’t say you wouldn’t be right to leave me. But I can’t just…just watch you slip away from me like that. Let you run off with some other man without a fight.”

“And that little performance was your way of winning me back?”

“It’s possible I’m not thinking very clearly.”

She shook her head even as a little laugh escaped her lips. “I’m not running off with anyone, you goose,” she said.

“No?”

“No. You’re right that Phil was…interested in me.” His head whipped around, eyes the size of saucers. “He thought we were getting divorced, before you get it in your head to go duel him. He’d been sweet on me when we were young, and he made clear that he wouldn’t consider me, tainted, I suppose, if I were divorced. When I told him that I had no intention of leaving you, he really was a perfect gentleman.”

He snorted lightly, then coughed, pressing the handkerchief to his face more tightly.

“Worth it?” she asked, mostly teasing.

“Yes,” he muttered stubbornly.

“I love you, Alexander, for better or worse. There’s never going to be anyone else.”

His expression softened. “Really?”

“Really. It doesn’t mean I’m not still hurt, still furious with you. Or that I don’t want to murder you from time to time. But I love you.” That earned her a little smile that she saw tugging at the corners of his eyes.

“I love you, too, Betsey.”

She rubbed his back again and leaned closer to inspect the handkerchief. “Has it stopped?”

He pulled the handkerchief away. The trail of blood appeared to have ceased. “I think so.”

She leaned over to press a kiss against his temple. “Let’s get you into bed, honey.”

#hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #eliza hamilton #tw:blood #jealousy #hamliza #reynolds pamphlet #aftermath

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enthusiasticsobrietyabuse · 4 years ago

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Bob Meehan - Times Advocate: Sunday, August 26, 1984

The story of a con man who helps kids kick drugs

Robert Meehan describes himself as a hippie, a rebel, a former heroin addict and a con man. There is no one better qualified, in his mind, to help teenagers get off drugs.

Meehan is the director of a Valley Center drug-rehabilitation program for young drug abusers called SLIC - Sober Live-In Center - Ranch. The former director of a major Houston-based drug rehabilitation program, Meehan has won high praise from clients and their parents, who have included comedians Carol Burnett and Tim Conway.

Despite that praise, however, Meehan's methods have attracted considerable controversy. He left the Houston Palmer Drug program in 1980, after television reports questioned the accuracy of the program's vaunted success rate and Meehan's possible conflict of interest in receiving a lucrative hospital consulting fee.

Meehan's problems did not end when he left Houston, however.

The county has declared SLIC Ranch to be in violation of zoning ordinances, and the state has threatened to close it down unless Meehan gets proper license to run a drug-treatment program. The county has also questioned SLIC's ties to a burgeoning self-help drug program called Freeway that has a satellite programs throughout San Diego County.

SLIC, which charges $4,000 a month and caters mainly to children of affluent parents, has also prompted concerns among drug-counseling professionals. Some worry that the cost of the program is excessive and that it relies heavily on non-professional counselors to provide treatment. They also express concern that Meehan could exert undue influence over his impressionable young charges.

Meehan established SLIC Ranch in 1981 as a privately-funded live-in center for young drug abusers requiring daily counseling to overcome their habits. Between 10 and 16 young people live in a rambling ranch-style house, supervised by Meehan and recovered drug-abusers who have gone through the SLIC program themselves.

While two professional psychologists are associated with the program, the emphasis is on former drug addicts and recovered alcoholics whose counseling approach is: "I've been there before." Meehan himself is a former heroin addict and recovered alcoholic.

Meehan, who wears his hair shoulder-length and sports tight designer jeans and a gold chain necklace, both dresses and acts hip - partly, he says, to gain the trust of his young clients.

"They say, 'Wow, look at this crazy old hippie,'" said Meehan, who does not care to modernize his image.

"I'm still a rebel. I'm still a hippie. I don't know how to change. I love the cause. I feel like I've got as righteous a cause as the Vietnam War."

Meehan said he can understand how parents bringing their kids to SLIC might be leery of him, given his appearance.

"I don't know if I'd trust me," he said, laughing. "But beneath this hair is a red neck. I'm a Republican. Voted for Reagan."

But when he talks about drugs, Meehan speaks in a voice that teenagers can understand.

"It's the Cheech-and-Chong generation," Meehan is fond of saying to his clients. "They're committing suicide on the installment plan."

Meehan often harps on the comedy team of Cheech and Chong, whose trademark is overindulgence in marijuana. In sharp contrast to some health professionals, Meehan regards marijuana as one of the most dangerous drugs used by teenagers.

"Marijuana is the most insidious chemical in society today," because it affects the mind, Meehan said. "I'd rather the kids were shooting heroin."

Meehan's message and his style often prompt adulation from the young people in his care.

"He has the answer to everything," said 16-year-old girl from La Jolla who said she was having trouble getting along with her mother, who had recently remarried. "He has love. It's like one big family. We work together and play together, and it's fun. And Bob's our big daddy."

Meehan, 41, the son of an Irish policeman, grew up in Baltimore. He said he started taking drugs at age 12.

He became an alcoholic and a heroin addict, spending four years in state and federal prisons for drug convictions. While in a Texas jail, Meehan was befriended by an Episcopalian priest. Upon his release he became the janitor for the Palmer Memorial Episcopal Church in Houston.

The priest urged Meehan to stay off drugs by counseling some of the local kids with drug problems of their own. Meehan said that at the time he was "a crazy kid with a 'hellatious' ego and visions of grandeur" and too flattered to turn down the offer.

The informal, self-help group began in 1972 with six members. It grew to become the Palmer Drug Abuse Program, which, according to Meehan, has had 30,000 participants. Meehan described it as "the most powerful drug program in the world."

It was closely modeled after the Alcoholics Anonymous program, with recovered abusers helping their peers.

Palmer garnered national publicity in the late 1970s, when actress Carol Burnett sent her daughter, Carrie Hamilton, there for treatment. Burnett was so impressed with her daughter's improvement that she and her husband accompanied Meehan on the "Phil Donahue Show" and other television shows to tout the program's success.

But Meehan's claims that his program had a cure rate of 75 percent to 80 percent attracted some sharp scrutiny.

In January 1980, CBS' "60 Minutes" TV program broadcast a piece on Palmer. According to a transcript of the broadcast, Meehan conceded under repeated questioning by Dan Rather that he did not have documentation to support his alleged success rate.

Rather also questioned Meehan's $50,000 annual consulting fee from a Houston hospital to which Palmer routinely sent young drug addicts for costly medical treatment. Meehan said during the interview that he saw no conflict of interest.

Meehan was also asked about his power to "persuade" some of the program's vulnerable young clients.

"I have that power," Meehan said. "I certainly do. I've been a con all my life. Just now I'm using it in a good way, see."

Following the "60 Minutes" piece, Meehan was asked to leave Palmer. In retrospect, Meehan now says, he could have prevented his firing by paying more attention to program details.

"I wasn't doing a damn thing wrong," he said. "I didn't mind the store. I was naive."

Meehan came to San Diego to work for Contemporary Health Inc., which was consulting with Center City Hospital, now Harborview Hospital, to establish a drug-abuse program. But his work for the hospital was short-lived.

"My methods are very unorthodox," Meehan said. "I was always fighting the staff."

While working for the hospital, however, Meehan helped establish a self-help counseling program called Freeway. It was modeled directly after Palmer and named after a rock music group formed at Palmer to entertain the kids in the program.

Freeway was started in 1982 by Jac Coupe, a former Palmer counselor, and by other Palmer employees who has left Texas after Meehan's departure. It now has centers in Coronado, Point Loma, Solana Beach and the newest one in Fallbrook.

The program, whose services are free, is funded in each community by local civic groups and churches. It is open to people 13 to 25 seeking help for drug and alcohol problems.

Participants are encouraged to attend weekly group-counseling sessions and to follow a 12-step program to achieve sobriety. Those who are severely addicted are referred for hospital treatment. In some cases, however, Freeway counselors conclude that a young person needs more intensive counseling - at SLIC Ranch.

Those who go to SLIC for a typical one-month stay range in age from 13 to 24, with the average age about 16. Most are psychologically - not physically - addicted to drugs. They have come to get free of dependence on marijuana, alcohol, speed and LSD.

Pat, a 19-year-old Rancho Santa Fe youth, realized he needed help when he mugged a woman to get money for his $600-a-week cocaine habit. John, a 21-year-old alcoholic from Clairemont, had tried a variety of alcohol treatment programs with no success.

SLIC participants live in a spacious ranch house, set among the oaks and hills of Valley Center, with a garden and pond-shaped swimming pool. They share bedrooms dormitory-style, with three or four to a room.

The participants are required to prepare their own meals to their own tastes, and there are no planned menus. Cereal and hot dogs are staples.

The rules prohibit drugs, alcohol, sex and violence. However, smoking, which is allowed, is prevalent.

"We don't care about cigarettes, diets and vitamin intake," Meehan said.

Participants spend most of their days in counseling. During their free time they are allowed to lounge by the pool and play rock music, much to the dismay of the neighbors. Occasional field trips are taken to Disneyland and other amusement centers.

SLIC residents are supervised by a staff of six, most former SLIC residents themselves. At least one staff person is on duty 24 hours a day.

One of the supervisors, Jackie Moors, 26 got off drugs a year ago after going through the SLIC program. Moors, who started doing drugs at age 10 and progressed until she was shooting up crystal methamphetamine, credits SLIC with turning her life around.

"The next stop would have been either jail or death" without SLIC, she said. The program worked, she said, because "people really cared about me." Her young son stays with her at the ranch.

Meehan said one goal of the center is to show residents "how to have more fun sober" than on drugs or alcohol.

Every weekday SLIC residents are transported by van to a rented house in Escondido, where they spend six hours in therapy and discussion.

The sessions are directed by Meehan and by Peter Sterman, a psychological assistant, who cannot practice without supervision of a licensed psychologist. His supervisor is Dr. Carl E. Morgan of San Diego.

In the evenings and on weekends, the residents are often taken to meetings of Freeway or Alcoholics Anonymous.

Last month the state notified Meehan that the center was operating without a license and threatened to close it down unless the center meets state standards required for a so-called residential-care license.

SLIC has been operating without a license because Meehan has successfully dodged the requirements, according to Tom Hersant, director of the San Diego office of the state's Community Care Licensing Division.

He told state officials that the ranch was operating not as a residential-care center providing therapy to live-in clients, but as a "boarding house," with the boarders receiving their counseling off the ranch in an Escondido house.

Meehan told the Times-Advocate that he attempted to avoid licensing to keep costs down.

Last month state investigators who has been suspicious of the arrangement finally confront SLIC officials.

"They told us, 'All right, already. We do provide therapy,'" Hersant said. "Suddenly now they're 'fessing up that they offer therapy."

State officials informed Meehan that a license would be needed.

To obtain a license the center would have to meet fire safety standards, provide a medical checkup for new clients to insure they are getting the appropriate treatment, and keep records evaluating the clients' progress. SLIC would no longer be allowed, as it does now, to mix clients younger than 18 with those older than 18.

Please see Ranch, page B2

Meehan has insisted that the licensing requirements are minor. He said he would comply, though he feels that the regulations would bring too much formality to the relaxed way he runs the program.

Not only must the ranch be licensed, but the counseling program run at the Escondido house must obtain a separate license to offer drug counseling. Once a facility is licensed, the state inspects it once a year to insure that standards are met.

Hersant said SLIC has agreed to apply for the two licenses. The licensing approval usually takes 90 days. If no licenses are obtained, he said, the state will move to shut SLIC down.

Meehan said he plans to meet the state requirements, but he dislikes the paperwork.

"I will comply to whatever extent I have to, to help young people," he said. "At the same time, I just want to do my thing."

Meehan said his problems with the state occurred because of negative publicity generated by the ranch's landlord, Clayton Blehm, an Escondido accountant. Blehm was sentenced in June to one year in jail for zoning violations at the Valley Center property that included adding illegal structures around the ranch. He is out on bail awaiting an appeal.

Blehm has also been cited by county zoning officials for allowing SLIC to move in without getting a major use permit - required to run a treatment center in a rural-residential area. The zoning investigations were prompted by complaints from neighbors, some of whom said that a drug treatment center did not belong in their quiet neighborhood and that they were repeatedly disturbed by loud music.

Last year SLIC and Freeway were the subject of an "informal investigation" by the county Division of Drug Programs. The investigation was prompted partly by complaints from a San Diego city schools official concerned that Freeway encouraged some young persons to stay away from school for one to three months to avoid their drug-using friends.

The report concluded that the complaint was the result of lack of communication between the school district and Freeway and that the two should work out an understanding.

The county investigation was also prompted by concerns about SLIC's relationship with Freeway.

"On the surface," the report said, "one might question the referral relationship, since both program directors hold a personal acquaintance that foes back to the Palmer Drug Abuse Program in Houston. However, DDP has no documentation information to suggest there is any impropriety or conflict of interest in the referral process."

Meehan said he has no break-down on where SLIC clients come from, but that many are referred by Freeway. He said SLIC and Freeway have no financial arrangements, because that would be unethical.

"There can't be," he said. "There's absolutely no financial arrangement either way."

Meehan urges all SLIC residents to attend Freeway counseling sessions after they leave the ranch. That is critical to staying sober, according to Meehan.

"If we can't hook a kid into Freeway," he said, "his chances are less than 60 percent of making it."

Some who go through the SLIC program are advised to live with "Freeway families" for several months, rather than with their own families. Meehan defended the practice for some clients, contending they would fall back into bad habits at home.

Asked whether continued reliance on Freeway would hurt a client's chances of becoming independent, Meehan said, "It's a very safe group of friends to have. I don't know if it's an unhealthy dependency."

According to Meehan, 90 percent of those who have gone through the SLIC program in the past 18 months have remained sober or off drugs after they left. He said that figure comes from undocumented reports from Freeway officials. "I hate statistics," he said.

Despite its concerns, the County Division of Drug programs concluded that there was "no documentable evidence" to prevent the county from recommending SLIC and Freeway as treatment centers.

At the time of the investigation, Meehan was serving the first year of a three-year term on the county's Advisory Committee on Drug Abuse. The 11-member volunteer committee helps county officials select drug-treatment programs to receive county money.

Freeway centers, which are privately funded, are generally located in affluent regions of the county.

"They're in the ones that can pay for it," Meehan said. "They have raised the money."

Parents in those communities can also afford to send their children to SLIC. The $4,000-a-month cost of attending SLIC has raised eyebrows among professional drug counselors.

By comparison, the county-funded McAllister Institute of Training and Education in El Cajon charges about $720 a month to treat women with drug problems.

Jessica Lewis, program director for Community Resources and Self-Help Inc., which has a county contract to treat drug abusers in San Diego, said the program has never referred anyone to SLIC. Lewis said her program's clients cannot afford Meehan's program.

"His target audience is kids from families that are financially successful," she said. "He's earning big bucks. More power to him. He has a mindset of big business and the heartset of helping people. I don't question his sincerity."

During his "60 Minutes" interview four years ago, Meehan said he was worth more than the $100,000 he was then making. He would not say in a recent interview how much he makes running SLIC.

Meehan, who lives in Rancho Bernardo, said that despite the $4,000-a-month per-person SLIC Ranch fee, he is not getting rich.

"Where that profit is, I haven't seen it yet," he said. "I make enough to pay my bills and save $100 a month."

Some health professionals were reluctant to speak candidly about Meehan's program. One noted that Meehan, because he sits on the county advisory committee, wields influence over the finances of many local treatment programs.

Nevertheless, some drug-treatment experts expressed reluctance to refer clients to SLIC because of its reliance on non-professional counselors. After sitting on a panel discussion with Meehan, Greg Baer, head nurse of the substance-abuse unit at Southwood Psychiatric Hospital in Chula Vista, he said he would not recommend Meehan's program for anyone.

"I just question his ability to be therapeutic," said Baer, whose program also treats adolescents for as much as $10,200 a month. "The people we deal with need a therapeutic approach from people who are knowledgeable... you need to have knowledge of what you're doing and not just go with a gut feeling."

Baer criticized SLIC's exclusion of the families of young drug abusers from its treatment program.

"If Johnny is going to return home, you have to discuss how this is going to be done... Otherwise you are doomed for failure," he said.

Some professional counselors said they worry about Meehan's influence over young people. Lewis said it is important for an organization such as SLIC, which treats emotionally-dependent people, to be accountable to a licensing or watchdog agency. Otherwise, she said, clients can be exploited.

"It's a pain in the neck," she said, "but I'm prepared to answer to those (licensing) people. There are enough people looking over our shoulder to make sure our clients are safe."

John Adam, a licensed psychologist in Coronado who has monitored SLIC Ranch and Freeway for more than a year, said he is concerned about the unorthodox nature of the counseling. Adam said the adulation that SLIC participants feel toward Meehan resembles hero worship.

"Any time you depend on the charisma of a leader, you fear that results will fade with time or distance from the guru," he said.

Meehan said he knows that he has tremendous influence on this young charges, but he tries to use that to good purposes.

"I'd like to think I'd become one of their local heroes instead of Cheech and Chong," he said.

But he acknowledged that his relationship with the clients could lead to problems.

"Yeah, it scares me," he said. "You get into a real guru (situation). This is where cults can begin."

"I have an advantage, though, because they're here only 30 days. I cut them loose emotionally when they leave here."

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porlockstompf · 5 years ago

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Reading de Nacht Reading 2019

my favourite books of the year

my overall favourite book of the year:

martin hägglund "this life why mortality makes us free" (2019)

postcyberpunkstompf:

01 ken liu (ed) "broken stars: contemporary chinese sf in translation" (2019)

02 cory doctorow "radicalized" (2019) 03 dave hutchinson "the return of the incredible exploding man" (2019) + dave hutchinson "nomads" (2019) + dave hutchinson "thumbprints" (1978) + dave hutchinson "torn air" (1980) + dave hutchinson "the push" (2009) + dave hutchinson "the villages" (2002) ... damn that elusive "paradise equation" (1981) ... 04 tade thompson "rosewater" (2016) + tade thompson "rosewater insurrection" (2019) + tade thompson "rosewater redemption" (2019) 05 desirina boskovich (ed) "lost transmissions: the secret history of sf & f" (2019)

06 hannu rajaniemi & jacob weisman (eds) "the new voices of science fiction" (2019) 07 gardner dozois (ed) "the very best of the best: 35 years of the year's best science fiction" (2019) 08 jonathan strahan (ed) "the best science fiction & fantasy of the year, volume thirteen" (2019) 09 robert markeley "kim stanley robinson modern masters of sf" (2019) 10 allan kaster (ed) "the year's top hard sf stories 3" (2019)

11 olivier girard (ed) "bifrost 96 la revue des mondes imaginaires: william gibson" (2019) 12 mario guglielminetti "web is over. parabola ed esplosione di ubuweb, l'antiprofilo" (2019) 13 bryan thomas schmidt (ed) "infinite stars: dark frontiers" (2019) 14 baoshu "the redemption of time" [2011] (2019) 15 cixin liu "the supernova era" [2003] (2019)

16 l. x. beckett "gamechanger" (2019) 17 gareth l powell "fleet of knives" (2019) 18 chen qiufan "waste tide" [2013] (2019) 19 derek künsken "the quantum garden" (2019) 20 gregory benford "rewrite: loops in the timescape" (2019)

21 james s.a. corey "tiamat's wrath" (2019) + james s.a. corey "auberon" (2019) 22 jim al-khalili "sunfall" (2019) 23 peter f hamilton "salvation lost" (2019) 24 neal asher "the warship" (2019) 25 jonathan strahan (ed) "mission critical" (2019)

26 jack mcdevitt "octavia gone" (2019) 27 elizabeth bear "ancestral night" (2019) 28 ian mcdonald "moon rising" (2019) 29 carmen maria machado (ed) "the best american sf & f 2019" (2019) 30 valerie valdes "chilling effect" (2019) 31 simon morden "bright morning star" (2019) + s. j. morden "no way" (2019) 32 neil stephenson "fall or, dodge in hell" (2019) 33 graham edwards "string city" (2019)

klassikstompf:

01 arno schmidt "bottom's dream" [1970] (2016) ... & still reading ...

02 jorge luis borgès "borgès restored (the author's preferred translations)" (2016) 03 julie orringer "the flight portfolio" (2019) + julie orringer "the invisible bridge" (2010) 04 pola oloixarac "savage theories" (2017) + pola oloixarac "dark constellations" (2019) 05 simon critchley "memory theatre" (2014)

06 gabriel josipovici "hotel andromeda" (2014) 07 david keenan "for the good times" (2019) 08 wg sebald "vertigo" [1990] (1999) + wg sebald "the emmigrants" [1992] (1996) + wg sebald "the rings of saturn" [1995] (1998) + wg sebald "austerlitz" (2001) 09 luis chitarroni "the no variations "diary of an unfinished novel" [2007] (2013) 10 julián ríos "larva: a midsummer night's babel" [1983] (1991)

11 césar aira "birthday" [2001] (2019) + césar aira "three novels" [1990-2000-1997] (2018) 12 tom mole "the secret life of books" (2019) 13 lucy ives "loudermilk or the real poet or the origin of the world" (2019) 14 lászló krasznahorkai "baron wenckheim's homecoming" [2016] (2019) 15 lucy ellmann "ducks, newburyport" (2019)

16 lars iyer "nietzsche & the burbs" (2019) 17 d harlan wilson "the psychotic dr. schreber" (2019) 18 andrew gallix (ed) "we'll never have paris" (2019) 19 chris kelso (ed) "i transgress" (2019) 20 john crowley "the solitudes" [1987] (2007) + john crowley "love & sleep" (1994) + john crowley "daemonomania" (2000) + john crowley "endless things" (2007) ... (the aegypt cycle)

polarstompf:

01 carlos ruiz zafón "the labyrinth of the spirits" [2017] (2018)

02 volker kutscher "the fatherland files" [2012] (2019) 03 andrea camilleri "the overnight kidnapper" [2015] (2019) + andrea camilleri "the other end of the line" [2016] (2019) 04 mick herron "joe country" (2019) + mick herron "this is what happened" (2018) + mick herron "nobody walks" (2015) 05 john le carré "agent running the field" (2019)

06 guillaume musso "la vie secrète des écrivains" (2019) 07 luke mccallin "the man from berlin" (2013) + luke mccallin "the pale house" (2014) + luke mccallin "the divided city" (2016) 09 henry porter "brandenburg" [2005] (2019) + henry porter "firefly" (2018) + henry porter "white hot silence" (2019) 10 mitch silver "the bookworm" (2018) + mitch silver "in secret service" (2007)

11 alan judd "the accidental agent" (2019) 12 philip kerr "metropolis" (2019) 13 ian rankin "westwind" (2019) 14 jo nesbø "the knife" (2019) 15 david hewson "devil's fjord" (2019)

16 barry forshaw "crime fiction: a reader's guide" (2019) 17 a.a. dhand "one way out" (2019) 18 martin holmén "clinch: the stockholm trilogy 01" (2016) + martin holmén "down for te count: the stockholm trilogy 02" (2017) + martin holmén "slugger: the stockholm trilogy 03" (2019) 19 michael kestemont "de zwarte koning" (2019) 20 soren sveistrup "the chestnut man" [2018] (2019)

21 tim mason "the darwin affair" (2019) 22 patrick conrad "good night, charlie" (2019) 23 chris pavone "the paris diversion" (2019) 24 dov aflon "a long night in paris" (2019) 25 arne dahl "hunted" [2017] (2019)

RIP ANDREA CAMILLERI !

gedächtnisstompf:

01 martin hägglund "this life: why mortality makes us free" (2019) / "this life: secular faith & spiritual freedom" (2019)

02 derrida "la vie la mort: séminaire (1975-1976)" (2019) 03 jean-luc nancy "derrida, suppléments” (2019) 04 jean-françois bouthors et jean-luc nancy "démocratie! hic et nunc" (2019) 05 hannah arendt "de vrijheid om vrij te zijn" (2019) + hannah arendt "nous autres réfugiés" (2019)

06 mckenzie wark "capital is dead": is this something worse?" (2019) 07 johan schokker & tim schokker "extimiteit: jacques lacan's terugkeer naar freud" (2000) 08 gerhard richter & ann schmock (eds) "give the word: responses to werner hamacher's 95 theses on philology" (2019) 09 ranja n gosh "philosophy & poetry: continental perspectives" (2019) 10 shoshana zuboff "the age of surveillance capitalism" (2019)

11 kate zambrano "screen tests: stories & other writing" (2019) 12 daniele carluccio "roland barthes lecteur" (2019) 13 jean-clet martin "la philosophie de gilles deleuze" (2019) 14 mitchell dean & daniel zamora "le dernier homme et la fin de la révolution: foucault après mai 68" (2019) 15 arnon grunberg "vriend & vijand: decadentie, ondergang & verlossing" (2019)

16 kwami anthony appiah "de leugens die ons verbinden: een nieuwe kijk op identiteit" [2018] (2019) 17 quentin meillassoux "science fiction & extro-science fiction" (2015) 18 roberto calasso "het onbenoembare verleden" [2017] (2019) 19 lydia davis "essays" (2019) 20 denise riley "time lived, without its flow" (2019)

poesisstompf:

zoë skoulding "footnotes to water" (2019)

platterstompf:

01 rick moody "on celestial music, and other adventures in listening" (2012)

02 yann courtiau "frictions: ce que la littérature a fait à la musique et ce que la musique a en a fait" (2019) 03 vivien goldman "revenge of the she-punks: a feminist music history from poly styrene to pussy riot" (2019) 04 garrígos, triana & guerra "god save the queens: pioneras del punk" (2019) 05 jon savage "this searing light, the sun & everything else: joy division the oral history" (2019)

06 richard beck "trains, jesus, and murder: the gospel according to johnny cash" 07 mark lanegan "sleevenotes" (2019) 08 jason williamson "jason williamson's house party: sleaford mods 2014-2019" (2019) 09 gallix, hill, & rose (eds) "love bites: fiction inspired by pete shelley" (2019) 10 greg laurie "johnny cash the redemption of an american icon" (2019)

11 marc vos & toon loenders "siglo xx: opdat de dood ons levend vindt & het leven ons niet doodt" (2019) 12 david sandilands & david keenan "go ahead & drop the bomb (memorial device pamflet)" (2019) 13 guillaume belhomme "pop fin de siècle" (2019) 14 chris bohn (ed) "the wire" (magazine) (2019) 15 sylvain sylvain "there's no bones in ice cream: sylvain sylvain's story of the new york dolls" (2018)

16 debbie harry "face it" (2019) 17 jaime gonzalo "poder freak: una crónica de la contracultura vol III" (2014) 18 matthew bower & samantha davies "talisman angelical" (2017) 19 darryl w bullock "the world's worst records: an arcade of audio atrocity vol I" (2013) + darryl w bullock "the world's worst records: another arcade of audio atrocity vol II" (2015) 20 steve zisson (ed) "a punk rock future" (2019) / ivar muñoz-rojas "underground babilonia" (2019)

bilderstompf:

01 didier ottinger "bacon en toutes lettres" (2019)

02 antoni tàpies "cap braços cames cos" (2012) + antoni tàpies "mahlerei und graphik" (2011) 03 laura oldfield ford "savage messiah" (2019) 04 fred vermorel "dead fashion girl: a situationist detective story" (2019) 05 françois schuiten & jaco van dormael "le dernier pharaon" (2019)

06 ken krimstein "the three escapes of hannah arendt: the tyranny of truth" (2018) 07 erik bindervoet & saskia pfaeltzer "aldus sprach nietzsche's zuster" (2019) 08 anthony n fragola & roch c smith "the erotic dream machine: interviews with alain robbe-grillet on his films" (2006)

cyclostompf:

01 bernard chambaz "petite philosophie du vélo" (2019)

02 filip osselaer "de man die doodging (vervolgens mosselen bestelde, de rekening vroeg en verdween): el tarangu, josé manuel fuente" (2019) 03 peter schmink "de cultus van het lijden: een vrije oefening" (2006) 04 laurent willame "les lieux sacrés du cyclisme: 15 pélérinages à faire avant de crever" (2019) 05 jonas heyerick (ed) "bahamontes: uit liefde voor de stiel" [magazine] (2019)

06 johnny vansevenant "1969, het jaar van eddy merckx" (2019) 07 edwin winkels "la vuelta: heroïsche verhalen uit de ronde van spanje" (2019) 08 frederik baeckelandt "fausto coppi (les héros 04)" (2019) 09 harry pearson "the beast, the emperor & the milkman: a bone-shaking tour through cycling’s flemish heartlands" (2019) 10 peter cossins "the yellow jersey / le maillot jaune" (2019)

11 thijs zonneveld "het panini album" (2019) 12 thijs zonneveld "de fiets, de fiets & nog veel meer sportverhalen" (2019) 13 willy vangenechten "hoe word je een wielerfan (en blijf je er een)?" (2019)

some wissenschaftstompf & autres divertissements ...:

01 robert macfarlane "underland: a deep time journey" (2019)

02 george van hal & ans hekkenberg "het kosmisch rariteitenkabinet" (2019) 03 josey waley-cohen "only connect: the difficult second quiz book" (2019)

… tsundoku !

may your home be safe from tigers, leroy, x HNY!

... the annual out of control TBR pile ...

postcyberpunkstompf

ada hoffmann "the outside" (2019) adrian tchaikovsky "children of ruin" (2019) alastair reynolds "shadow captain" (2019) + alastair reynolds "permafrost" (2019) annalee newitz "the future of another timeline" (2019) charlie jane anders "the city in the middle of the night" (2019) farah mendlesohn "the pleasant profession of robert a heinlein" (2019)gareth l powell "ragged alice" (2019) greg egan "perihelion summer" (2019) ian creasey "the shapes of strangers" (2019) jo walton "lent" (2019)

kameron hurley "the light brigade" (2019) karl schroeder "stealing words" (2019) megan o'keefe "velocity weapon" (2019) neil clarke (ed) "the eagle has landed: 50 years of lunar sf" (2019) nina allan "the silverwind" (2019) paul di filippo "aeota" (2019) peter swirski "stanislaw lem: philosopher of the future" (2019) + peter swirski & waclaw m osadnik (eds) "lemography: stanislaw lem in the eyes of the world" (2019) richard kadrey "the grand dark" (2019) rudy rucker "million mile road trip" (2019) simon ings "the smoke" (2019)

klassikstompf

alex landragin "crossings" (2019) enrique vila-matas "mac's problem" [2017] (2019) joseph scapellato "the made-up man" (2019) kevin breatnach "tunnelvision" (2019) michel houellebecq "serotonin" (2019) nell zink "doxology" (2019) roberto bolaño "the spirit of science fiction: a novel" (2019) samanta schweblin "mouthful of birds" (2019) sergio pitol "mephisto's waltz: selected short stories" (2019) will eaves "murmur" (2019)

polarstompf

johan op de beek "het complot van laken" (2019) jon steinhagen "the hanging artist" (2019) juli zeh "empty hearts" (2019) max hertzberg "operation oskar" (2019) + max hertzberg "berlin centre" (2019) peter robinson "many rivers to cross" (2019) tony belloto "bellini & the sphinx" [1995] (2019)

#2019 #rewind #reading #lecture #librarything

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hms-chill · 5 years ago

Text

Coming Home

It's been years since either Alex or Henry has had a place that they can really settle into and call 'home'. Luckily, Henry has just bought the perfect one.

Kensington has never felt much like a place Henry lives. It feels like a hotel, a beautifully impersonal place to stay for a few nights before moving on. When Alex visits, he sees more of himself in the warren of rooms than he ever sees of Henry (though that may be due to their differing levels of cleanliness). Henry appears in the little things, in his journals and books and that damn copy of Le Monde that makes Alex feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but even the bedroom still feels like a hotel until Alex plops a bag into an ancient chair and lets his shoes fall haphazardly on the antique rug. He leaves things scattered around the room, and Henry asks if he's trying to spread his manifest destiny to his former ruler.

Alex doesn't say anything, and he certainly doesn't tell Henry that Bea occasionally sends him pictures of Henry wearing the sweatshirts and pajama pants he leaves behind. Those are saved in a special folder on his phone, and the way Henry looks in his clothes, everything a bit too short, is one of the best things he can imagine. Kensington may not look or feel like Henry's home, but it is still a place he can relax. It's a place where he can wear clothes that don't fit quite right but remind him that he's loved, wholly and unconditionally.

Alex especially doesn't tell Henry that he's printed a photo from Bea of Henry and David curled up in an antique chair, Henry wearing Alex's old lacrosse t-shirt and reading his copy of The Prisoner of Azkaban, or that the photo is framed on his desk. He just keeps leaving dirty clothes and battered paperbacks and color coded notes around Henry's rooms as if to scream that someone lives there. Someone lives in these staged rooms, and someone uses this museum furniture, and that someone is dating a queer brown American. Centuries of racist, homophobic monarchy can deal.

The White House bedroom is a bit more Alex's than Kensington is Henry's, but it's not really his, either. The White House is, after all, America's house. His family are essentially long-term renters, and no matter how much he tries to settle in, it's still a borrowed space. In four years, some other first child will come along. They'll find the message behind the wallpaper and the few unsealed windows, and maybe they'll paint over his walls like he painted over Sasha's. Hopefully they'll replace the ugly dog painting in the hallway.

He doesn't have quite the warren Henry does, and Henry doesn't settle into spaces the way Alex does in Kensington, but that doesn't mean he doesn't show up in the White House bedroom. He's in the V&A map hanging beside the congressional schedule and in the stacks of classics beside the Hamilton biography on Alex's bookshelf. When he visits, he doesn't stay in Alex's room, but Alex accumulates more and more little pieces of Henry every time. There's the Smithsonian guide book Henry bought and left, the tickets from their trip up the Washington Monument, and the 'emergency jumper' that Henry stores in Alex's closet and Alex absolutely does not study in. He is far too dignified to cozy up in his boyfriend's sweater and let the too-big sleeves flop over his hands (he doesn't know it, but Henry has a framed photo of him working in the jumper and his glasses, courtesy of June). Still, every time Alex hangs something on a wall or moves something in, it's with the knowledge that he will have to move it out in a few years.

The bedroom in the house in Texas that he'd move it to, though, isn't really Alex's anymore, either. It's the bedroom of the person Alex used to be, before he met the love of his life, found out he was bi, caused an international sex scandal, and learned to stop living ten years down the road. It's the bedroom of a boy who refused to look anywhere but dead ahead, and it shows. For years, there was a family photo on the desk, but he'd shoved it into the back of a drawer sometime during the divorce and never bothered to unearth it. There is a photo of him with June and Nora hanging on a bulletin board, but it's surrounded by old to do lists, tutoring schedules, an out of date calendar, and plans for 2016 campaign stops. The walls are decorated with memorabilia from Ravael Luna's and his mom's first campaigns, nearly covering a lacrosse team poster. It's the bedroom of a boy whose only goal was politics, now foreign and slightly dusty from disuse, and a part of Alex cringes every time he sees it. He wasn't happy when he lived in the room as it is now, not really.

Henry says it's good he doesn't fit the room anymore; it means he's grown in the four years since he lived there. That doesn't mean it's not strange to go home to a place that raised him, but no longer feels like home.

His dad's house out in California is the same way, though it never felt like home. Alex has a room there, but it's never really been his, no matter how many campaign posters he hung on the wall or lists he hid between the matress and the box spring. The lake house is the only place from his childhood that remains unchanged, and it's somewhere indescribably special to him, but it was never fully home. It's a place to relax and recharge, a great vacation home, but it's not somewhere he ever fully moved into.

In short, when Ellen Claremont-Diaz is re-elected, neither Alex nor Henry have a place that truly feels like home. Luckily, Henry's bought one. He's bought a four-bedroom Brooklyn brownstone where they can live together, and when he shows Alex the listing, Alex nearly smothers him in affection. They spend election night curled up in a bed that used to be Alex's, looking through floor plans and photos until they fall asleep.

When he crosses the threshold of the brownstone for the first time, Henry's hand in his, Alex can't help but imagine what it will be. They'll paint the walls and furnish it themselves, and everything in it will be theirs, al theirs. No more beds bought by dead people, no ugly paintings as political gestures, no jumping through hoops to put a nail in the wall and hang one picture. Henry tugs him forward, leading the way through the house they get to settle into together. Sure, another family may have lived here before, but it feels refreshingly new after their old homes. There are no ghosts in these walls, no centuries of previous owners to contend with. It's a new place for their new life together.

Hand in hand, they explore the living room, deciding where to put the TV and how big of a sectional they can fit in the space. They decide which bedroom to share, and Alex calls dibs on an office, and they plan out a decorating scheme for the guest bedroom that all of their friends and family will be comfortable with. They pick paint colors and enlist the help of June, Nora, and as many secret service and PPOs as they can, and by the end of the day, they're sleeping on the floor of a well-painted house.

The next morning, they take their regular fleet of security vans and spend the morning at Ikea, making final furniture decisions over meatballs and enlisting Cash and Amy to help carry boxes. The photo Henry takes of the living room two hours later shows Amy sitting on the couch she's built and Nora leaning against a bookshelf she put together while Alex and Cash are surrounded by a pile of boards and screws that should be an entertainment center. Eventually, a pizza dinner happens on the coffee table, with paper plates, the first card games in the new house, and lots of laughter. That night, they've moved their sleeping bags to a mattress that should go on a bed they haven't built yet.

They take the building and move in process slowly, interspersing it with walks around their new neighborhood and coffee runs to new shops nearby. They've dedicated the second day to their individual offices, but by noon, Alex has spent as much time in Henry's office as he has in his own, and the same is true for Henry. Which means that after lunch, they're dragging Henry's desk and bookshelf into Alex's office, re-organizing a bit, and planning another trip to Ikea to furnish a second guest room in what used to be Henry's office. By the third night, they're sleeping in a bed (though it doesn't have sheets yet), and when the moving van arrives on day four, the furniture is finished and it's beginning to feel like a home.

Day four is dedicated to all of the personal belongings left in their respective former homes. Cash and Amy help with the heavy lifting as Henry fills most of their bookshelves, leaving an anthology of queer fairy tales on the coffee table. Alex settles into the kitchen, hanging pots and pans from a rack on the ceiling and adding a command hook for his apron near his beloved coffee machine. Henry hangs a framed, pressed green carnation from Bea beside two of Alex's framed photos: one of a gay couple holding a sign that says "STAY OUT OF MY OUR BEDROOM" and another of a man whose jacket says "IF I DIE OF AIDS- FORGET BURIAL- JUST DROP MY BODY ON THE STEPS OF THE FDA". Nora stops by with a plant and a pair of pride flags for them, and June brings them a photo book of supportive street art from around the world. Shaan buys Henry an 'out of the closet' mug with queer figures from history on it, and Zahra gets Alex one that says 'Dumbest Creature on Earth' as housewarming gifts, and they find a home between the coffee maker and the electric kettle.

David finds his beds scattered around the house, one in nearly every room so he has a place to go if he needs it. By the fifth night in their new home, Alex walks into the bedroom to find Henry cuddled up and reading under the framed issue of Le Monde, wearing one of Alex's t-shirts with David dozing at his feet. He looks content and settled, and it is the most wonderful sight Alex can imagine.

Notes:

Ya girl's back to working in theatre, and since I got into theatre through set that means I'm back to thinking about physical space. I always feel weird writing about settings in prose, because I love the little details but I feel like describing them detracts from the overall mood and plot. Last time I was struggling with something I wrote up a little firstprince study, and y'all were great, so I'd love any feedback on how space is working for you in this. Is there enough of a balance between little details and bigger plot points? Does the space feel real/like it helps develop character? Let me know!

On AO3

#FirstPrince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor x alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb #rw&rb #rwrb fic #my fic: rwrb #june claremont diaz #nora holleran #tooth rotting fluff #my fic:rwrb #Hannah Writes: rwrb

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tabloidtoc · 4 years ago

Text

People, July 20

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Nick Cordero -- a life cut short by COVID-19

Page 1: Chatter -- Tom Hanks joking about writing and producing and starring in the new film Greyhound, Shawn Johnson on battling an eating disorder after the 2008 Beijing Games, Kevin Hart on how his wife Eniko feels at 6 months pregnant, Kristen Bell on reactions to news that her 5-year-old daughter wears diapers, Gavin Rossdale on his divorce from Gwen Stefani being his most embarrassing moment, Ricky Martin on his quarantine experience

Page 2: 5 Things We’re Talking About This Week -- Kanye West says he’s running for president, Beavis and Butt-Head make a comeback, Michelle Pfeiffer reveals a relatable makeup mishap, Floor is Lava heats up on Netflix, Baby Yoda takes over breakfast

Page 5: Contents

Page 6: StarTracks -- Stars in the Sun -- Brooke Shields rocking a star-spangled bikini during a dip in her pool in the Hamptons

Page 7: Pregnant Katy Perry and fiance Orlando Bloom took a beach stroll with their dog in Santa Barbara, Luke Evans cooled off during a boat ride in Ibiza, John Legend twinning in matching swimsuits with son Miles, Sailor Brinkley-Cook celebrated her 22nd birthday with mom Christie Brinkley and sister Alexa Ray Joel, Gabrielle Union

Page 8: Jason Derulo performed without an audience due to the pandemic for the Wawa Welcome America virtual festival, Emily Ratajkowski wore a mask while out for a walk with her beloved dog Colombo, Serena Williams and daughter Olympia hit the tennis court in matching gear, Carson Kressley cohosted the livestreamed celebration of the 50th annual N.Y.C. Pride March

Page 9: Royals Back in Action -- Prince William and Princess Kate Middleton celebrated the 72nd anniversary of the National Health Service, Prince Charles visited Cotswold Farm Park, Camilla Duchess of Cornwall stepped out at the Swindon Fire Station to thank firefighters and hospital staff and paramedics

Page 10: Five months after losing husband Kobe Bryant and daughter Gianna Vanessa Bryant celebrated Independence Day with her daughters Natalia and Bianka and Capri, Chris Pine flashed a peace sign during a grocery store run, Jessica Simpson celebrated son Ace’s seventh birthday

Page 11: British racing driver Lewis Hamilton took a knee against racism before the Formula One Grand Prix of Austria, Luke Wilson playing golf in Bel Air, Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas shared a laugh during a morning stroll, Maren Morris and son Hayes went motor-floating

Page 15: Scoop -- Meghan Markle felt unprotected by the palace

Page 16: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are free to speak their minds, Jada Pinkett Smith speaks out after affair allegations with August Alsina

Page 18: Heart Monitor -- Chris Evans and Lily James dating?, Kacey Musgraves and Ruston Kelly separated, Camila Mendes and Grayson Vaughn heating up, Julia Roberts and Danny Moder happy anniversary

Page 21: Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt amicably co-parenting, D.L. Hughley tackles COVID-19 and racism

Page 23: Sean Astin -- my mother’s Patty Duke’s legacy on mental health

Page 24: Mandy Moore on family and love and making music

Page 27: Passages, Ghislaine Maxwell charged

Page 29: Stories to Make You Smile -- thanks to a colorful custom soundboard a dog speaks and she has a lot to say, this boy wants to help save the Earth one park at a time

Page 31: People Picks -- Greyhound

Page 32: The Old Guard, Brett Eldredge -- Sunday Drive

Page 33: P-Valley, Crikey! It’s the Irwins: Life in Lockdown, One to Watch -- Little Voice’s Brittany O’Grady

Page 34: Brave New World

Page 35: Palm Springs, Margo Price -- That’s How Rumors Get Started, Q&A -- Leslie Odom Jr. of Hamilton

Page 37: Books, Star Picks: What We’re Reading -- Tracee Ellis Ross is reading Me Talk Pretty One Day, Chris Hemsworth is reading The Boy, the mole, the Fox and the Horse, Elle Fanning is reading The Nightingale

Page 38: Cover Story -- Broadway Star Nick Cordero 1978-2020 -- a brave battle and a family’s heartbreak -- after three months in the hospital fighting COVID-19 the actor and new dad lost his life to the virus; how his story and his wife’s unending love and devotion inspired people around the world

Page 45: Raven-Symone: Introducing the Real Me -- after decades in the spotlight the former child star is independent in love and finally in control

Page 48: A Fort Hood Soldier Murdered -- what happened to Vanessa Guillen? -- months after she mysteriously disappeared the 20-year-old was found dead; inside the shocking case

Page 50: Carl Reiner 1922-2020 -- Farewell to a Comedy Legend -- creator of The Dick Van Dyke Show, father of Rob Reiner, BFF of Mel Brooks, mentor to Steve Martin, he entered and exited laughing

Page 52: A Demand for Answers -- a young man’s tragic death -- Elijah McClain died last summer after police tackled and restrained him as he walked home from the store. His family is still asking why

Page 54: NASCAR’s Bubba Wallace -- Driving for Change -- the sport’s only top-ranked African-American driver takes on the fight for racial equality

Page 58: Poo-Pourri founder Suzy Batiz -- the sweet smell of success -- the mom of three overcame abuse, bankruptcy and depression then built am empire by taking the P.U. out of poo

Page 63: Lindsay Ell surviving sexual assault -- after years of hiding her pain the country singer opens up and finds healing by helping fellow survivors

Page 66: A Friendship Born in the COVID-19 ICU -- her kind words helped save his life -- an unexpected bond between a patient fighting to stay alive and a hospital housekeeper made all the difference just when it mattered the most

Page 68: Patricia Heaton -- embrace your second act -- the actress shares adventurous stories of transformation including her own in a new book

Page 69: Mike Monteleone

Page 71: Liz Smothers, Ta’u Pupu’a

Page 73: Dani Klein Modisett, Yudi Bennett

Page 77: COVID-19 Surges Again -- as new infections set records epidemiologist Dr. Michael Osterholm talks about steps we can take to slow the spread

Page 81: Summer Beauty Issues Solved -- Ciara

Page 87: Second Look -- Lin-Manuel Miranda and Phillipa Soo in Hamilton

Page 88: One Last Thing -- Charlize Theron

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offtoljubljana · 5 years ago

Text

93. Geen pizza

13/05/2020

Alweer hallo vanuit het centrum. Het is 19:58 en ik had geen zin om te koken. Nu we het toch over koken hebben, dit had Kath gisteren gemaakt voor haar en Sophia:

Het is salade, met eigengemaakte yoghurt dressing, tomaten en rozijnen. Daarna brood gebakken in olie en iets genaamd "chick peas" (ik verstond automatisch Check, Please!), oftewel kikkererwten. Blijkbaar is het makkelijk om te maken, maar ik zei al dat ik mega snel onder de indruk ben, aangezien ik problemen heb met eieren bakken.

Maar dadelijk meer. Gisteren kwam ook het nieuws dat de gefilmde versie van Hamilton een jaar eerder wordt uitgegeven dan gepland. Guys, het is bijna de hele OBC (een paar ensemble mensen missen), dus dit is mega groot nieuws. Lin-Manuel Miranda, de maker van Hamilton, pleit altijd voor een grotere toegankelijkheid van theater en nu gaat hij zijn musical op Disney+ zetten.

Yup. Disney+. Ik heb geen Disney+, maar Leon wel.

Lin wilde de musical altijd als film uitbrengen, maar blijkbaar was er sinds 2018 een heftige bidding war voor de rechten. Het ziet ernaar uit dat Disney won, ook al ik liever gewild dat een theater service zoals BroadwayHD het kon doen.

Maar ja, meer mensen hebben Disney+, dus dan is het weer logisch dat Lin voor een bekendere streaming platform heeft gekozen.

Snel kwam ik er achter waarom Lin het “zo belangrijk vond on musical theatre toegankelijk te maken in deze tijden”. Gisteren werd aangekondigd dat Broadway dicht blijft t/m 6 september.

Wow. 12 maart t/m 6 september, dat is bijna een half jaar. Oh, dit is shit.

Ik heb wat Six posts in de reblog tag gegooid, want Six was één van de vele shows die niet open is gegaan wegens Corona. Het had open moeten gaan op de dag dat de Broadway shutdown begon. Gelukkig hebben ze wel previews gehad.

Dus dat is het theater nieuws. In beter theater nieuws: Ruthie Ann Miles heeft een gezonde dochter en Nick Cordero is wakker uit zijn coma ontstaan door Corona.

Verder heb ik gisteren voor de eerste keer in anderhalve maand de Sims gespeeld, nadat ik wat Dan and Phil Sims heb gekeken (.... rip) en mijn Sims zijn allemaal zeer gelukkig, bedankt voor het vragen. Dat was dus gisteren.

Vandaag was gevuld met *drumroll please* academische stress! Alle deadlines komen eraan en het is niet dat ik laat begonnen ben, maar alles is tegelijkertijd en ik sprong vandaag mentaal van onderwerp naar onderwerp naar onderwerp. Dan is het queer theory, dan is het male gaze, dan is het de dood, dan is het semiotics, dan is het art criticism... pfoe.

Het enige chille vandaag was mijn quest om mijn turnips te kunnen verkopen op het eiland van acteur Dylan Sprouse. Ik en meer dan 1000 anderen maakten kans, dus ik ben niet verbaasd dat het me niet is gelukt.

Eh, ik kon het proberen. Mijn eigen stonks gaan namelijk omlaag.

Toen ook nog een mindfulness module voor Professionalisering (lang verhaal) en ik was meer relaxt dan verwacht. I mean, mijn gedachten kunnen niet ophouden (brain has zero chill), maar lichamelijk was het beter dan verwacht.

En toen moest ik maar eens gaan eten. Ik wilde al sinds vorige week een pizza halen bij de pizzeria bij het universiteitsplein, dus ik ging naar Sophia om de fietssleutel te vragen. Blijkbaar hadden de anderen al andere plannen en er waren nog maar 3 fietsen, aangezien Aga de vierde had genomen en niemand wist wanneer ze terug zou komen.

Ik vond het niet erg. Dan maar de bus. De bussen rijden nu eenmaal weer. Ik moest wel weer geld zetten op mijn Urbana card (herinner je dat ding?) en ik besloot om niet mijn €20 maand abonnement te nemen, want [typ dit thuis] ik weet niet of ik veel met de bus ga reizen. Voor de lockdown nam ik elke dag de bus, soms wel meerdere keren, en dan haal je de €20 er wel uit, maar nu weet ik het niet. Een retour is €2,60, dus ik moet 10x gaan reizen om dat in de laatste twee weken van mei eruit te halen en ik weet niet of dat gaat gebeuren. Zeker nu dat ik (soms) een fiets heb.

Dus ik liep naar de bus en toen ik bijna bij het busstation kwam, kwam Aga fijn aanfietsen. Als ik dus ietsjes langer had gewacht, waren er genoeg fietsen geweest. Maar ja, ik wilde ook wel met de bus, gewoon om te kijken hoe het ging.

Plus, toen ik weg ging, riepen Anouk en Kath vanaf het balkon dat ze heel dankbaar waren dat ik de bus nam, dus dat was lief.

Maar hey, een bus! Wow, een bus!

Ik wist niet wat ik moest verwachten, maar ja de bus was leeg. Het ziet er naar uit dat alleen lange bussen worden gebruikt om meer afstand te creëren. Er waren misschien 4 of 5 anderen in de bus.

Natuurlijk kan je niet op alle zitplaatsen zitten.

Je kan dus niet voorin instappen en er hangt een flesje desinfectiemiddel vastgeplakt met duct tape. Het was een raar nostalgisch gevoel om alle busstations te horen.

Er was ook zo'n raar déjà vu moment naar de laatste keer dat ik in het centrum was. Toen ging ik met Caroline en Kath uit eten bij de Mexicaan en toen vonden we het zo raar dat de mega drukke lijn 6 gewoon leeg was. Nu ook weer. De buschauffeur reed langs zowat alle stops, want niemand hoefde in te stappen.

Er waren wel veel fietsers, dus dat speelde waarschijnlijk ook een rol. Het weer was goed, ook al had ik dat eerst niet door. Gelukkig ging ik voor vertrek uit Barbara’s raam hangen om te voelen, want ik had bijna een trui, een dik vest, een winterjas en handschoenen aangedaan.

Het was 20 graden.

Ik stapte uit en ik liep naar de afhaal pizzeria EN HET WAS DICHT.

WHAT THE-

Dan maar tijd voor een back up plan: de Hit Wok. Die zou vast wel open zijn. En dat klopt. Ik liep dus richting het populaire plein en wow guys, de toeristische accordeonist is er weer! Elke dag zat er een accordeonist op het plein typische Sloveense accordeon muziek te spelen, maar wegens de lockdown was hij er niet. Nu dus wel weer. Ik weet niet echt waarom, want voorlopig komen hier geen toeristen.

Toen naar de wok. Zie hier mijn eerste buitenshuize (???) Boni sinds midden 13 maart (oh, precies 2 maanden geleden):

Het is lekker, maar ik kom voorlopig niet meer terug. Het was best duur en dan kan je ergens anders veel meer krijgen dan dit. Ik was wel een idioot en ik zei dat ik geen appel of salade erbij wilde.

Het is best rustig in de stad, maar ik maakte deze foto een paar minuten geleden om te laten zien hoe leeg het is:

Maar nu, om 20:19, beginnen de straten drukker te worden. Misschien gaan mensen nu pas wat drinken.

***

21:59 en ik ben gedoucht en ik zit weer aan de thee. Ik heb mijn wokbox niet opgegeten, dus de restjes zijn in de koelkast.

Ik liep even rond door het centrum en dit gebouw was mooi belicht.

Het is een winkel met dure modemerken. Toen ging ik weer eens bij het standbeeld zitten en de lichten gingen ineens aan.

En oh OH GOD, ik zat daar dus en een meter verderop zat een Aziatische man met zijn dochtertje. Ineens kwam er zo’n vent die “nĭ hăo” riep, want je weet wel, mensen overal op de wereld zijn kut, dus ik zei “nĭ hăo” terug.

Toen keek die Aziatische man en hij begon Chinees met me te praten, maar toen moest ik weer uitleggen dat ik geen Chinees kan. Het was best wel grappig.

Een tactiek dat is soms gebruik is om op een mega serieuze manier Chinees te praten. Dan doe ik alsof ik oprecht een conversatie aan wil gaan en dat ik geen enkele andere taal kan spreken. Mensen die me lastig vallen worden dan mega oncomfortabel.

Helaas had dat nu geen zin, want anders had die Aziatische man een Chinese zin zoals “Mǎ bái bàba fàn huáng shuǐ shān lǎo shī yī' èr sān sì wǔ liù qī bā jiǔ shí shǒu ěr tù?” oftewel “Paard wit vader rijst geel water berg leraar één twee drie vier vijf zes zeven acht negen tien hand oor konijn?” moeten horen. Of het kleine, witte konijnenliedje. Of whatever.

Ik nam het geluid van de accordeon op om naar Sanne te sturen en toen was het tijd om naar de bus te gaan. Ik liep langs de Balkan grill van januari, maar aangezien dat restaurant in een kelder zit, is het dicht. Ik was bijna bij de bus en toen kwam bus 14 aan, dus ik begon te rennen terwijl ik mijn mondkapje op probeerde te doen en ik wees ook naar de bus, zodat de buschauffeur zou weten dat ik die bus nodig had.

Helaas zat er een gat in mijn plastic tas en mijn eetstokjes vielen op de grond en ik voel me zeer schuldig dat ik ze niet op heb kunnen rapen om ze in de prullenbak te doen, maar anders zou ik de bus missen en wegens de nieuwe dienstregeling is er een langere wachttijd.

Wow, dat was een lange zin.

Dus toen ging ik naar huis met bus 14 en alle bussen waren zo leeg. Dan moet je bedenken dat ze dus met 30% capaciteit rijden. Sommige bussen waren helemaal leeg.

De bus 14 ging ineens een totaal andere kant op, dus ik schrok. What the hell? Uiteindelijk kwamen we aan op een punt dat ik herkende en toen ging de bus verder via de normale route, maar waarom???? Ik was even bang dat ik helemaal de andere kant op zou gaan.

Dus hoera, Slovenië gaat goed. Brussel en andere vliegtuigen willen vanaf juni weer naar Ljubljana vliegen. Kasteel Bled wilt morgen weer open, maar het eiland waar het kasteel op ligt gaat pas op de 18e open. Geen idee hoe dat gaat.

Op de 11e was er 1 nieuwe besmetting en 0 nieuwe doden. Gisteren zijn er 2 nieuwe besmettingen en 1 dode bijgekomen.

Ik heb geen idee hoe het in Nederland gaat. Brb.

Slowakije heeft het goed zeg.

Ah.

Oké.

Yeah, I’m good.

#93 #blog post #may

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aswithasunbeam · 5 years ago

Link

October 1809

“Morning Geli!” James called, mounting the steps of the Grange. His sister was sitting on the front porch in the autumn sunshine with an easel set before her. “Have you missed me?”

She gave him a distant look as he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“What are you painting?”

Her gaze fell back on the easel. He glanced at it, too, taking in the blurry shapes that didn’t seem to form any understandable image. She didn’t offer any explanation, not that he’d expected her to when she was so clearly in the grips of one of her distant, closed off moods.

“Love you,” he said, patting her arm affectionately before letting himself into the house.

His father’s bust stared back at him from across the foyer. He hung his hat on the stand and looked to his left to find the door to his father’s study partly ajar. Phil was in there with him, babbling on about something from the sound of it.

“And then Mr. Harris told me to add them together, but I told him no, because you showed me how to do it already, and you’re the best at math in the whole country,” Phil said from his seat on Papa’s lap.

Papa laughed. “Well, flattering as that may be, Son, I think you ought to hear your tutor out. It’s possible he was teaching you a different way to come to the same answer.”

“I don’t want to do it a different way. I want to do it the right way.”

“And my way is the right way?”

“Yes,” Phil said earnestly.

Papa laughed again and kissed Phil’s forehead. “And don’t you forget it.”

James knocked on the door and poked his head inside. “Hi Papa.”

Papa’s expression turned grave the moment he saw him. “Phil, why don’t you go find Billy? Tell him I said it was all right to go down to the river. You can take your new fishing pole along.”

“All right, Papa,” Phil agreed, sliding off his lap. As he moved towards James, he whispered, “You’re in big trouble.”

“Phil,” Papa said, voice holding a warning.

The boy scurried out of the room.

“Close the door, James,” Papa directed.

A sense of foreboding swept over him as he shut himself into his father’s office. He’d been away in Waterford for the past several months, tending to the property his mother had finally been awarded from Grandpa Schuyler’s estate and setting up his first legal practice. He was at a loss as to what had happened in his absence to cause his father’s apparent displeasure.

Papa was looking at him over the top of his spectacles, as though taking measure of him. When Papa finally spoke, it was with an air of forced casualness. “Did you have a safe ride down?”

“Yes,” he answered. He fought not to fidget as he stood straight, pinned by his father’s gaze.

“Any news you’d like to share with me?”

His mind went utterly blank. On the way home, he’d been bursting with subjects to discuss with his father: politics, legal issues, needed business advice. They all evaporated at the expression of grave disappointment on his father’s face. “No?”

“Nothing at all?”

He shook his head and shifted his weight to his other foot.

“Hm.” Papa reached down into his desk and pulled out a broadsheet. “That’s odd, because I read the most curious thing in the newspaper from Saratoga county recently.”

“You read the newspaper from Saratoga county?”

“Not usually. Mr. Ten Broeck sent it to me for my attention to this particular item.” He tapped his finger over the leftmost column.

James approached slowly, squinting down at the small print where his father had gestured. John Cramer’s name stood out in the blur of words, and his stomach dropped down into his shoes. “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed,” Papa said. “What on earth were you thinking?”

“I….” He hesitated. “It wasn’t…I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t even there when it started.” He could see Papa’s jaw tensing as he stumbled through his explanation.

The thing was, he hadn’t even wanted to make the stupid speech in the first place. When the Federalist’s had invited him to speak, he’d known immediately it wasn’t him they wanted to hear from, but his father. The older he grew, and the more of politics he’d come to understand, the more he could feel his views departing from his father’s, but he could hardly speak his mind in front of a room of his father’s loyal supporters. And so, he hadn’t. The result had been an admittedly rather bland speech, toeing the party line and praising his father in as many ways as he could think of.

The trouble had started after he’d left. A meeting of Democrats had followed the Federal gathering, and a man by the name of John Cramer had immediately jumped up to report everything James had said. His commentary hadn’t exactly been flattering. A good deal of insult had been leveled against his father, adding to the insult.

Captain Ten Broeck had stood after Cramer was done and challenged him to a duel in James’s name. The good Captain had insisted that if James refused to hold the man accountable for his words, he would fight Cramer himself. “He won’t do it,” Cramer had sneered in reply.1

“Captain Ten Broeck was the one who challenged him in my name, but I felt duty bound to send a written challenge after he reported what happened. Cramer insulted me, and you. What was I supposed to do?”

Papa’s face paled as James explained. “Not that. Not a duel.”

“He refused anyway. That newspaper report is regarding his cowardly refusal to face me. We never came close to actually fighting.”

“Have you learned nothing from the heartache of the past years?” Papa’s voice rose uncharacteristically, his nostrils flaring in anger.

James shifted back a step, startled. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t go through that again, Jamie. I can’t. If I lost you, like that, in such a foolhardy, pointless exercise….” Papa’s hands slipped under his glasses, his fingers pressing at his eyes. “It would kill me, Jamie.”

In retrospect, he had seen that his behavior had followed the same course as Pip’s and Papa’s. Only dumb luck had prevented his meeting the same fate. Indignation had burned through him at Cramer’s insult, but the exchange had certainly not been worth his life. Pip and Papa’s sacrifices ought to have served as better examples to him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, more softly. “It was foolish. I know that.”

“I can’t understand why you were there in the first place. You should be focused on establishing your practice, not making politic speeches. Keep yourself out of politics altogether, at least until your settled.”

“It’s not that simple,” James argued. “Even going to court nowadays feels like a political exercise. Do you know, when Martin Van Buren won in Judge Van Ness’s court, the Judge asked Williams how he could have let that ‘little Democrat’ beat him? And Williams replied, ‘Oh, Judge, I relied upon you to supply my deficiencies.’ Making the right political connections feels like the only way I’m ever going to win a case in court.”2

“These are particularly divisive times, but the way to combat such corruption in our judicial system is surely not to engage in it. And spilling each other’s blood is hardly going to help either.”

“Easy for you to say. You have clients lining up down the street for your legal services. When you lose to Democratic judges, no one doubts your skill as an attorney. I’m only just starting. I need to prove myself.”

“You need to stay alive,” Papa snapped. “There are other careers you can undertake. You only get one life.”

James swallowed.

Papa’s voice turned pleading as he said, “Promise me you won’t ever do that again.”

“I promise,” he vowed.

As he considered what else to say, a knock came on the office door. Little Eliza’s face peeped in through the crack she’d opened. “Papa? People are here.”

“Is it Mama?” Papa asked, frowning lightly.

“No.” She leaned back out and squinted at the glass panes beside the front door. “I think’s Mr. Morris and some other people.”

“Oh,” Papa said, seizing the wheels of his chair and maneuvering out from behind the desk. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll let them in.”

He stopped in front of James before he passed and gestured for him to lean down. “Come here.”

James obeyed, letting his father wrap him in a loose hug.

“I love you,” Papa said.

“I love you, too,” James replied.

With that, Papa rolled out to answer the door.

“Big news, Ham, big news,” Gouverneur Morris announced, almost before the front door was even open.

James looked down the stairs as his father’s friend barreled through the foyer towards the parlor. An elderly gentleman was slowly making his way up towards the house as well, leaning heavily on a cane and the young lady accompanying him.

“Richard Morris,” his father supplied for him before heading towards the parlor. James felt his eyes widen at the name – Richard Morris had been the Chief Justice of the New York Supreme Court for over a decade before his retirement. “He’s visiting Morrisania. Show him into the parlor when he makes it in, will you?”

“Yes, Papa,” he agreed.

Geli apparently had gone inside while he’d been in Papa’s office, he noted absently, her easel and paints abandoned in place.

As he watched their company’s progress from the top of the steps, he found his eyes resting far more on the young lady than on the venerated old Judge. She wore a power blue dress cut in the new style popularized by Mrs. Madison, with ivory lace detailing at the bodice, and a blue satin sash decorating the high waistline. Her hair was dark and curled into delicate little ringlets that framed her face.

She was beautiful.

“James Hamilton,” he introduced himself when they’d made it up the stairs. “A pleasure to meet you, Judge Morris.”

“Yes, yes, hello,” the Judge replied breathlessly. He coughed weakly, then seemed to notice James’ attention had fixed on the young woman at his side. “My granddaughter, Mary.”

She stretched her free hand out for him to kiss. “How do you do, Mr. Hamilton?”

He took her hand and bowed. “Very well, Miss Morris. And yourself?”

“Enjoying this lovely autumn day. Isn’t the weather beautiful, grandfather?”

“Yes, yes,” he repeated, still catching his breath.

Mary looked at James expectantly. For the second time that day, his mind felt utterly blank. He could feel the skin of his cheeks stretching as he grinned at her like an idiot.

“Is there somewhere I could sit down, young man?” Judge Morris injected into the slightly awkward silence.

“Oh, yes. Papa’s gone into the parlor with Mr. Morris. Right through here.” He showed them into the room.

“Please have a seat, Judge,” Papa invited.

“Let me get you a chair, Miss Morris,” James said, scrambling to move one of the seats from the table in the center of the room.

“I can move it,” Mary said.

“No, no, allow me,” he insisted.

In his haste to move the chair, he slammed the solid wooden leg into his shin, and had to bite back the swear that fought to escape with the sudden flash of pain.

“Are you all right?” Mary asked.

“Fine,” he said, voice tight. “Just fine. Here you are Miss.”

“Thank you?” She said it as question, as though she wasn’t quite sure what to make of his slightly desperate attempt at chivalry.

He nodded, grinning like an idiot again. What was the matter with him?

“James?” Papa asked, staring at him with a curiously fond expression.

“Yes?”

“Would you like to sit down and join us?” Papa nodded to the three other free chairs around the table.

Yes, sitting down would be far less awkward than standing at Mary’s side, grinning down at her. “Yes. Thank you.”

He placed his chair beside his father and sat down as Mr. Morris began speaking again. Papa patted at his arm and leaned over towards him while Mr. Morris addressed the Judge. “Relax,” Papa advised, sotto voce. “You’re doing fine.”

He raised his eyebrows encouragingly before turning his attention back to Mr. Morris.

James snuck a glance across the room at Mary, who he found was watching him in turn, with her head tilted slightly to the side and a subtle quirk to her lips.

Beautiful, he decided again. Simply beautiful.

#hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #james a hamilton #mary morris #life hereafter #chapter 12

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jordancat · 5 years ago

Video

youtube

“The children shown varied with the location of the broadcast, using missing children from that area.”

Runaway Train (Soul Asylum Song) - Wikipedia

"Runaway Train" is a power ballad by American rock band Soul Asylum. Its music video is notable for featuring images of young missing people, although lead singer Dave Pirner states that the lyrics originally described his experience of depression.

It was released in June 1993 as the fourth single from their 1992 album, Grave Dancers Union and became a success around the world. In mid 1993, it reached number five on the Billboard Hot 100, number two on the U.S. Top 40 mainstream and climbed to the top position on the Canadian RPM Top Singles chart. It was certified gold by the Recording Industry Association of America and sold 600,000 copies in the United States. Worldwide, the song was highly successful, reaching number two in New Zealand, Norway, Sweden, and Switzerland and peaking within the top five of several other European countries. The song helped bring their album, Grave Dancers Union, to a multi-platinum level and won a Grammy Award for Best Rock Song in 1994.

Music video

The music video, directed by Tony Kaye, received heavy airplay on MTV and VH1 during its duration.

Several versions of the video were made. The video for the United States version begins with a fade to a black screen with a big, white blocked text reading: "There are over one million youth lost on the streets of America", while the UK version begins with "100,000 youth are lost on the streets of Britain". The next scene shows a drawing of an adolescent girl, and a Dave Pirner's voice-over says that the drawing is by a girl who had run away more than 110 times. The scene was often omitted when the video was shown, a common practice when videos had additional footage before or after the song.

After Pirner spoke, the video continued with various shots of the band playing the song, and Dave singing. Three concrete scenes are shown interspersed among the other images of the video. During the first verse, a child is shown witnessing his grandfather beating, and eventually killing his grandmother, and running from their house in fear. During the second verse, a young teenage girl is pimped as a prostitute, and is initially purchased by the aforementioned abuser. Later, she is dragged into a van by a gang, afterwards she is picked up by paramedics and taken to the hospital, after getting beaten up. During the coda of the song, a small baby is snatched from his stroller by an older woman, with his mother running after the kidnapper's car.

Throughout the music video, various images of children running, or appearing with injuries from abuse, are shown. During the choruses, pictures of missing children would appear on the screen. After each picture was shown, their full name would appear in large capital letters on the screen, along with the year they had been "missing since...".

After the video, in an ending also not regularly shown, Pirner says in front of the camera, "If you've seen one of these kids, or you are one of them, please call this number," with the following screen showing a number one could contact. MTV cut this part out because they did not want to have the video confused with being a public service announcement. VH1 shows the UK version in its full length.

There were three original versions of the video in the United States, totaling 36 missing children shown. The children shown varied with the location of the broadcast, using missing children from that area.

Resolved cases

According to Kaye, 26 missing children were found after being featured in the video. In 2006, guitarist Dan Murphy stated in an interview with Pasadena Weekly that some of the cases featured in the video had ended in tragedy: "Some weren't the best scenarios. I met a fireman on the East Coast whose daughter was in the end of the video, and he'd been in a bitter custody battle with his wife over her", Murphy said. "It turned out the girl hadn't run away, but was killed and buried in her backyard by her mother. Then on tour, another girl told us laughingly 'You ruined my life' because she saw herself on the video at her boyfriend's house and it led her being forced back into a bad home situation."

The UK version of the video featured Vicky Hamilton and Dinah McNicol, who each went missing in 1991. Their remains were found in 2007 at a house in Margate. Peter Tobin has since been convicted of both murders.

Also featured in the UK version was Mark Bartley, a runaway who went missing in 1992. He was recognised in the video by a man who knew Bartley was staying in the tenant's house below them, but was unaware of his missing status. By the time the police arrived, Bartley and the man he was living with were gone. It is unknown what happened to him after this.

Curtis Huntzinger, who was featured in the US video, was located deceased in 2008. His convicted killer, Stephen Daniel Hash, is currently serving a sentence of 11 years for manslaughter in Folsom State Prison.

The last image in all three U.S. versions of the song is Thomas Dean Gibson, who disappeared from Glendale, Oregon, in 1991 at the age of 2. He is still missing as of 2014, and age-progressed photos of him at age 19 and age 21 were released in 2009 and 2012, respectively, by the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. His father, Larry Gibson, a former deputy sheriff, was convicted of second degree manslaughter for accidentally shooting his son to death when he shot at a stray cat in his front yard even though no remains were ever found. He steadfastly denies killing his son and has worked on finding him since being released from prison in 1996.

The version shown in Australia showed a number of young backpacking tourists whose families were looking for them.

Many of those shown in the Australian version were confirmed victims of serial killer Ivan Milat who was arrested in 1994 not long after the Australian film clip was released.

Also featured in the video, but still missing in 2016 were Christopher Kerze, Martha Dunn, Andrea Durham, Wilda Benoit, and Byron Eric Page

(See Wikipedia page with citations)

#runaway train #soul asylum #missing children

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