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andrewhunt1155 · 6 months ago

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The Wildlife and Natural Beauty of Gilroy, California.

Nestled in the southern part of Santa Clara County, Gilroy, California, is a gem often overshadowed by the bustling tech-centric cities of Silicon Valley. Known primarily for its annual Garlic Festival, Gilroy offers far more than its famous aromatic bulb. It is a haven for nature enthusiasts, boasting a rich tapestry of wildlife and stunning natural landscapes that enchant visitors and locals alike. From sprawling parks and lush hiking trails to diverse ecosystems teeming with wildlife, Gilroy, California is a sanctuary of natural beauty waiting to be explored.

A Tapestry of Diverse Ecosystems

Gilroy's unique geographical position at the southern edge of the Santa Clara Valley, bordered by the Santa Cruz Mountains to the west and the Diablo Range to the east, creates a variety of ecosystems. This diversity supports an array of flora and fauna, making Gilroy an ecological treasure.

One of the most prominent natural attractions is the Henry W. Coe State Park. As the largest state park in northern California, it spans over 87,000 acres of wild, rugged terrain. The park's diverse ecosystems range from oak woodlands and chaparral to riparian habitats along its creeks. Hikers and nature lovers can explore its extensive network of trails, encountering a multitude of wildlife, including black-tailed deer, wild turkeys, bobcats, and even the elusive mountain lion. Bird watchers can delight in spotting golden eagles, red-tailed hawks, and a variety of songbirds.

Coyote Lake-Harvey Bear Ranch County Park

Another jewel in Gilroy's crown is the Coyote Lake-Harvey Bear Ranch County Park. This expansive park offers over 6,695 acres of rolling hills, oak savannas, and a picturesque lake. The park is a favorite destination for camping, fishing, boating, and horseback riding. The lake itself is home to various fish species such as bass, bluegill, and catfish, attracting anglers year-round.

The park's trails are frequented by hikers and mountain bikers who can experience the tranquility of the area while possibly encountering wildlife like wild boars, coyotes, and numerous bird species. The park's diverse habitats support a healthy population of amphibians and reptiles, including the California newt and western fence lizard.

Uvas Canyon County Park

Uvas Canyon County Park, located on the eastern side of the Santa Cruz Mountains, is renowned for its lush, forested environment and stunning waterfalls. The park's cool, shaded trails are particularly inviting during the hot summer months. The cascading waterfalls, such as Upper Falls and Basin Falls, are the highlights of the park, providing serene spots for reflection and photography.

The park's creekside habitats support a variety of wildlife, including raccoons, skunks, and gray foxes. The rich plant life, from ferns and mosses to towering redwoods and sycamores, creates a verdant haven that is a stark contrast to the dry chaparral found in other parts of Gilroy.

The Agricultural Landscape

Beyond its parks and wild spaces, Gilroy's agricultural heritage also contributes to its natural beauty. The fertile soil and Mediterranean climate make it an ideal location for farming. Garlic fields, vineyards, and orchards form a picturesque patchwork across the landscape. The sight of blooming garlic fields in the summer or grapevines heavy with fruit in the fall adds a rustic charm to the region.

Local farms often open their doors to visitors, offering farm tours, wine tastings, and U-pick fruit opportunities. This agricultural interaction not only enhances the appreciation of the land but also underscores the symbiotic relationship between nature and community in Gilroy.

Preservation and Conservation Efforts

The natural beauty of Gilroy is not just a result of its favorable geography; it is also the product of concerted preservation and conservation efforts. Organizations such as the Open Space Authority and local government initiatives have been instrumental in protecting the area's natural habitats from overdevelopment. These efforts ensure that future generations can enjoy the same pristine landscapes and rich biodiversity that current residents and visitors do.

Educational programs and community outreach are also vital components of these conservation efforts. Local schools and community groups often participate in wildlife preservation projects, habitat restoration activities, and environmental education programs. These initiatives foster a sense of stewardship and responsibility towards the environment among the younger generation.

Conclusion

Gilroy, California, is much more than the "Garlic Capital of the World." It is a testament to the natural beauty and ecological diversity that thrive in the heart of the Silicon Valley region. From the expansive trails of Henry W. Coe State Park and the serene waters of Coyote Lake to the cascading waterfalls of Uvas Canyon, Gilroy's landscapes offer endless opportunities for exploration and appreciation of the natural world.

The city's commitment to preserving its natural habitats ensures that Gilroy remains a sanctuary for wildlife and a haven for those seeking respite from the urban hustle. Whether you're a seasoned hiker, a passionate bird watcher, or simply someone who enjoys the tranquility of nature, Gilroy's wildlife and natural beauty provide a rich, immersive experience that celebrates the splendor of the great outdoors.

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citykitchenandbathblog · 9 months ago

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Discovering the Charm: Best Places to Visit in Fairfax, VA

Fairfax, Virginia, is a vibrant city with a rich history, diverse culture, and an abundance of attractions to explore. Whether you're a history buff, a nature lover, or a food enthusiast, Fairfax has something for everyone. From historical sites to outdoor adventures and culinary delights, here's a guide to some of the best places to visit in Fairfax, VA.

Fairfax County Courthouse

Located in the heart of Historic Downtown Fairfax, the Fairfax County Courthouse is a must-visit for history enthusiasts. Built-in 1799, the courthouse is the oldest continuously active courthouse in Virginia and offers guided tours that provide insight into its fascinating history and architecture.

Lake Fairfax Park

For outdoor enthusiasts, Lake Fairfax Park offers a picturesque retreat right in the heart of Fairfax. Enjoy hiking and biking trails, picnicking areas, and a serene lake perfect for fishing, kayaking, and paddle boating. During the summer months, the park's waterpark provides refreshing fun for the whole family.

Step through our doors, and you'll be greeted by a symphony of textures and hues, a melange of modern innovation and classic charm. As you navigate through our curated displays, each corner reveals a world of possibilities, igniting inspiration for your dream kitchen and bath projects.

Whether you seek the sleek lines of contemporary chic or the warmth of rustic allure, our expert team stands ready to guide you. With a keen eye for detail and a passion for perfection, we collaborate closely with you to transform your vision into reality, ensuring every element aligns harmoniously with your lifestyle and aesthetic preferences.

At City Kitchen & Bath, we understand the importance of convenience. That's why we're not just another distant showroom; we're your kitchen and bath destination right around the corner. No more endless searches for "kitchen & bath near me" – we're here, ready to elevate your living space with sophistication and flair.

But our commitment doesn't end with the selection process. We're your partners every step of the way, from initial consultation to flawless installation. Our dedication to excellence means your journey with us is seamless and stress-free, leaving you free to savor the excitement of transforming your home into a masterpiece.

So why wait? Discover the epitome of luxury and functionality at City Kitchen & Bath, where your dream space awaits, just moments away. Embark on a journey of transformation today and redefine the heart of your home with us.

City Kitchen & Bath 3204 Old Pickett Rd, Fairfax, VA 22031 +17035525252 https://citykitchenandbath.com https://www.google.com/maps?cid=6247942528560521796

#kitchen & bath near me #kitchen renovation near me

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revolutionbuildersllcor · 2 years ago

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Top 5 Things To Do In Medford, Oregon

Medford, Oregon is a city that lives up to the old-fashioned American ideals of community and history. The city may not be well known outside the Pacific Northwest region, but it's a fun place to visit because it has so much to offer. Whether you're looking for outdoor adventures or simply want to explore some local history, Medford has plenty of options for all kinds of travelers. Here are five things that we recommend checking out when visiting this quaint Oregon town:

Medford

Medford is a city in Southern Oregon, located in the Rogue Valley. It's the county seat of Jackson County, and was founded in 1883 by David Loring, a civil engineer who named the city after his friend Dr. Joseph Medford from Boston.

Medford is home to several colleges and universities including:

Southern Oregon University (SOU) - A public liberal arts college established in 1856; one of only two four-year universities within an hour drive from Medfords' downtown area

Southwestern Oregon Community College (SWOCC) - A community college offering associate degrees as well as certificate programs

Crater Lake National Park

Crater Lake National Park is a national park located in southern Oregon, United States. The park was established in 1902 and covers 1,950 square miles (4,932 km2). It is the deepest lake in the United States with a maximum depth of 1,949 feet (587 m), making it also one of the top ten deepest lakes worldwide.

The park's name derives from its location on what was once called "the buried volcano" due to an eruption that occurred approximately 20 million years ago; however, no signs of this have been found within its borders today. Though most people associate Crater Lake with waterfalls cascading down into its depths or an active caldera lake surrounded by pinnacles and cliffs, there is much more to see here than meets eye!

Stewart Ave

The Avenue is a long street that runs through Medford, and it's home to many of the city's oldest buildings. It's also known as Stewart Ave, named after George Stewart who settled here in 1855. While you're on The Avenue (or Stewart Ave), you can walk around and shop at some of the great stores or eat at one of its many restaurants.

Rogue Creamery

Rogue Creamery is a dairy farm, creamery, and cheese factory in Central Point, Oregon. The company was founded by David Gremmels and Marjorie McGinnis in 1973. Rogue Creamery produces several varieties of award-winning artisan cheeses including:

Buckaroo Blue - A creamy blue cheese made from pasteurized cow's milk

Oregeno Honeymoon - A semi-soft Italian-style cheese made from pasteurized cow's milk (also available as part of our Gift Boxes)

Camembert de Normandie - An unpasteurized French style Camembert made with raw milk

If you're planning a visit to Medford, be sure to check out these places.

The Crater Lake National Park is about 2 hours away from Medford and well worth the drive. You can hike along the rim of this beautiful blue lake or take an easier walk around it. There are also tours available that include boat rides across the lake and stops at viewpoints where you can get amazing views of its waters below.

If hiking isn't your thing, then try kayaking instead! There are several locations around town where you can rent boats or even take lessons if you're inexperienced with paddling through water (and trust me--it's harder than it looks). A few places where I recommend going: Ashland Paddle Sports & River Runners Adventures; Rogue River Rafting Company; Rogue Wilderness Outfitters; Oregon Whitewater Adventures

We hope that this list has given you a little inspiration for your next trip to Medford. This city has so much to offer and we are happy to share our top 5 picks with you!

Revolution Builders is a Revolution. We're not just your average Medford builders. We are committed to building homes that bring out the best in every person who enters our doors, making sure that you find the perfect home and leave feeling confident with our experience. We know that when buying a new home, it’s all about you. That’s why we do everything we can for our clients before, during and after construction. We build relationships for life through genuine care and dependability.

Revolution Builders, LLC 3619 Aviation Way, Medford, OR 97504 541-210-3205 https://revolution-builders.com/ https://www.google.com/maps?cid=1050003253826938032

#Medford builders #Medford construction #Medford remodeling #construction companies Medford OR

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johndesautels1 · 2 years ago

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Seller Says Sell! Special Financing May Be Available! Madeira Beach Almost New Construction Elevated Custom Built Beach House Only 4 Structures To The Sand With a Monster 4-5 Car Garage on a grandfathered Duplex Zoned-R2-Buildable oversized lot with the ability to build up to a 40 foot high structure & Bay-Inlet Views! This Florida Keys style abode is an ABSOLUTE POTENTIAL CASH COW. Build a 2nd rental unit adjacent or on top of your crib and use the rental income to pay your expenses. This home is right by multiple beach access points and the sugar sand beaches of Pinellas County. Thirsty? Head outside your door & enjoy a magnificent sunset at the nearby Madeira Beach Cantina while enjoying a glass of Chardonnay or an ice cold beer. Ready for a night of world class entertainment? Stroll several Blocks down to nearby world famous Johnâs Pass Village & Boardwalk with over 100 shops & restaurants, one-of-a-kind boutiques, boating, fishing charters, dinner cruises, dolphin tours, jet ski rentals, parasailing, ice cream parlors, waterfront live music venues & a long boardwalk that runs along the gorgeous intracoastal waterway. Madeira Beach is nestled in the heart of Tampa Bay-Less than 35 minutes to World Famous Clearwater Beach, Downtown St. Petersburg, "the new cultural hub of the west coast of Florida," & Tampa International Airport! This Move-In Ready modern beach escape is the tropical oasis you & your friends,family,tenants and guests are looking for! Upon arrival you are graced with a magnificent modern curb appeal and an absolute beast of a garage to store your boat, jet skis scooters, kayaks and other beach toys. There is also plenty of extra parking. The interior of this shangri-la is equally impressive! The interior is a wide open floor plan that lives far larger than it's public records square feet. The interior is absolutely bathed in natural light as well as 10 foot ceilings throughout! The Chefâs dream kitchen is equipped with many bells and whistles & was built with quality modern slow close cabinets, stone countertops and stainless steel appliances. The master bedroom is generous & will easily accommodate a king size very comfy bed. The guest bedroom is sizable & easily will fit a queen size bedroom set. Additionally, both bedrooms afford walk in closets and plenty of room to melt you credit card at the mall. This entire home was designed to meet the latest building code with high quality construction materials including solid pilings, ground up all block construction and impact windows & doors. Step out to your PROTECTED eastern facing balcony and enjoy a morning cup of Joe. As an added bonus the utilities are dirt cheap and electric averages $90-$130 per month...Above base flood elevation! Flood insurance is only $256.00 a year!!!

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bookofjin · 2 years ago

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Biography of Liu Yifu (WS097)

So-called Emperor of Song

His son Yifu was usurpingly installed. Taizong, since his decorum and respect was insufficient, dispatched the Duke of Shanyang, Xi Jin, and others to lead 20 000 infantry and cavalry to Huatai, and cross the He for a southern chastisement. Yifu's Inspector of Si province, Mao Dezu dispatched Marshal Zhai Guang to lead 3 000 infantry and cavalry to come and resist him. Minister of Works Xi Jin used more than 1 000 cavalry to patrol Chenliu. The Grand Warden, Yan Leng, led the multitudes to surrender. He carried on to attack Huatai. Its commandery Grand Warden, Wang Jingdu, ran and fled, beheaded his Marshal, Yang Zan. Dezu also dispatched his general Dou Yingming to attack the wagon train at Shiji [the “Stone Crossing”]. Xi Jin at Tuluo greatly routed Guang and others, and exploited victory to straight-away arrive at Hulao. Yifu dispatched his general Du Yuan and others, together with the Inspector of Xu province, Wang Zhongde, to stay at Hulu. Taizong decreed the Duke of Anping, Shusun Jian and others with the army at Sidukou. Yifu's Inspector of Yan province, Xu Yan, handed over Yinmao City to run and retreat, and so in Taishan and other commanderies they fully abandoned their defence posts and fled. Taizong decreed the Count of Wuzi, Gongsun Biao, and others, to then to attack Hulao. Yifu dispatched general Tan Daoji to lead the legions to hurry in aid.

8th Year [423 AD], Yifu changed the year to be Jingping [“Shining Peace”]. Xi Jin advanced to attack Jinyong. Yifu's Grand Warden of Henan, Wang Juanzhi, set out and ran. Taizong went on a southern tour, arriving at Ye. Xi Jin turned back from Jinyong to besiege Hulao. Taizong again decreed the Duke of Anping, Shusun Jian, and others to go east and strike Qing province. Its Inspector, Zhu Kui, defended Dongyang City. The Grand Warden of Jinan, Yuan Mao, ran to Kui from Liangzou. Xi Jin divided off an army to attack Yingchuan. The Grand Warden, Li Yuande, and others, ran back to Xiangcheng Jin again dispatched cavalry to rout five counties governed by Gaoping commandery, and carried off the residents, more than 2 000 families. Shusun, since it was the hot season, turned around the legions. Tan Daoki and Wang Zhongde turned toward Qing province, and thereupon did not dare advance. Taizong arrived at Hulao, and following that, favoured Luoyang. Then he went north across the He. Jin overcame Hulao. He apprehended Dezu and his Grand Warden of Xingyang, Zhai Guang, General who Broadens the Martial, Dou Ba, and others. Yifu's Inspector of Yu province, Liu Cui, guarded Xiangcheng, and did not dare to advance. Jin dispatched infantry and cavalry reaching Xuchang. The Grand Warden of Yingchuan, Suo Yuande, ran to Xiangcheng. Thereupon he besieged Ruyang, the Grand Warden, Wang Gongdu, burst through the siege and set out. He continued with routing Shaoling carried off more than ten thousand mouths, and then turned back.

Beginning of Shiguang [424 AD], Yifu's Minister of Works, Xu Xianzhi, Prefect of the Masters of Writing, Fu Liang, Army Leader Xie Hui, and others assembled at his government court, arrested his King of Luling, Yizhen, moved him to Xin'an commandery, and killed him. Yifu was dim-witted, brutal, and neglected morality. Xianzhi and others directed troops to enter the hall. At the time Yifu was on a boat in Hualin [Park]. The soldiers competed to advance and killed his attendants, went along with Yifu to set out from the eastern doors, and deposed him to be King of King of Yingyang. Thereupon they moved him to Wu commandery, and at Jinchang Precinct they killed him.

#ws097

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keltonwrites · 3 years ago

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I bought a house in the middle of nowhere

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.” It was something akin to that, at least. He didn’t mean any mischief, no deceit or planning. It was an honest take on what, at the time, was true. I saw the road into town on Google Maps, noted that it was closed during the winter, acknowledged the reality that a person can own a snowmobile, and I said, “we are not moving there.” But, all good truths are just dares in the making.

And here I am, living in the “there” I said I would not. Two years ago, I left my job at Headspace for a life reset. It was pre-pandemic, and Ben and I were planning a big road trip. Our perfect paradise in Topanga, CA, had crystallized itself as many people’s perfect paradise, and those “many people” all had more money than us. Our options to buy a home were nil, and home-buying was essentially all we wanted. Ben’s a builder and I’m a world builder, and we wanted somewhere to invest that didn’t belong to someone else. We packed the car with the tent and the bikes and the dog and all the things that come with tents and bikes and dogs, and off we went on our own Tour de l’Ouest, looking for a place to call home. We knew what we wanted, knew our odds of finding it, and hit the road anyway. Here was the dream list — concocted by two pie-in-the-sky dummies who married each other:

Not rainy or consistently windy

Notable access to the arts

Remote and challenging to get to/close neighbors

Wild West influenced architecture

Progressive community

Exceptional trail access out the front door

High-speed internet

In our budget

And my personal favorite: had to “feel right” Good luck to us with a list like that, but thus began our hunt. We camped in the snow, tried every dirty chai in the Rockies, and explored every town we could. Whatever a good time it was, it felt useless. Every town Ben was OK with, I hated. Every town I was OK with, Ben despised. And the few places we both loved required money we just didn’t have. We came home with our sails down, limping into the harbor of our rental. But as is the way with romantics, our dreams began to slowly eclipse our reality. Books fell victim to Zillow and Trulia. TV was replaced by the MLS. All writing time was dedicated to Realtor.com. Hours were spent pouring over maps, county records, and updating spreadsheets that tracked price per square foot compared to beds and baths. Over time, all that internetting led to one singular town of 180 people at 10,000 feet in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado with a road that said “Closed Winters” on Google Maps. Look, I don’t know what happened. Ben found this town on a map, I said don’t be ridiculous, and after a year or so of him telling people I'd never move here, here I am, being ridiculous. Was it reverse psychology? Maybe. Was it the charming “town plan” that mandated all houses be rustic cabins and forbade AirBnB? Could be. Was it the fact that when I looked at Strava’s Heatmap, it showed what seemed like thousands of miles of trails just out the front door? I mean, yes. All these things played a part, but all I know for certain is that one day I woke up and said, “we’re going to move there.” Ben doubted this conviction (and the realities behind it) thus cementing it into place in my head. In a town of 180 people there’s only ~60 houses, which means maybe 2 or 3 get listed per year — but my spreadsheet had the proof: we hadn’t missed our chance yet in this tiny town. The data showed a strong likelihood there would be at least two houses listed within the calendar year. This, however, was also our last chance. The spreadsheet also showed that if we didn’t find a house this year, we wouldn’t be able to afford one the next. We called a realtor, made our case, and harangued her until she believed us that we were truly the kind of yahoos who would move to an avalanche field and stay there. And then it happened. A pocket listing. It was a darling home built in 1890. It had the beds, the baths, and the views. We were the first and only to know. We put in an offer, they agreed, and we would come to see the house in a few weeks. But in those few weeks, the circumstances changed. The sellers lost their own sweet deal, and they couldn’t sell yet. Their agent promised we had right of first refusal, it was only a matter of time. Ben lamented, I preached patience, and we went to see the house that was no longer for sale anyway.

It was a quiet winter morning in Covid when we drove across the packed snow to meet our realtor outside the house. The sun was out and the 13 degrees Fahrenheit felt warm. I unzipped my jacket, mask on my face. I took long videos and talked about where I would set up my office and where we’d put the bikes. As we closed up and I settled into a future where this house would eventually be mine, our realtor told us there were comps in the area — other residents quietly interested in potentially closing out. Would we like to see them? Sure, let’s.

One home came with an incredible commercial kitchen. The whole house was a whopping 3500 sq ft if my memory serves me correct, which falls under the category of “houses too big to find your cat in."

Another home had an open-air-to-the-kitchen bathroom.

The third was dark and overpriced with cracked windows and open beer cans scattered about.

And then, plans changed. “Hey guys, there’s actually one more house we can see.” The last house we saw was a log cabin, nestled in the hillside by itself, with massive A-frame windows looking out onto the peaks beyond. Inside was a labyrinth of a life lived long and large. The cabin was built and loved by a man we’ll call Jack. Jack was 82, and as we walked toward the front door on that sunny winter morning, he exited with two beers in his pockets, headed to the mountain to ski. Jack was an attorney — in his life he’d been both criminal and defender — and from the stories, somewhat interchangeably. There were artifacts from running in the same scenes as Hunter S. Thompson and Willie Nelson; there were stuffed birds, bad books, sheet-covered couches, smoked spliffs, and piles and piles of mouse shit. Every inch of the house was lived in, and not just by people. You think millennials like plants? No. This man likes plants. The biggest monstera deliciosa I’ve ever seen, spanning some 10 feet wide and 15 feet tall. Draping cactuses, spider plants, massive aloes, and an ambitious hoya carnosa clawing its way to the top of the massive fireplace. But there were problems. I’m trying to be diplomatic saying the house was lived in. The wood by the door handles was dyed black from years of hand grease rubbing against it. The carpet in the upstairs was soiled almost everywhere with bat scat. Newspaper was stuffed between the massive logs to keep the wind out. There was cardboard taped over almost every window, blankets nailed over the others. Half the doors wouldn’t open. It was unnerving to touch the crusted light switches. It was early enough in the season of Covid-fear that touching anything felt like gambling. On our way back to our rental in the bigger neighboring town, we shared our awe and our no-ways, lamenting how long we’d have to wait for the little 1890s fixer upper. That night, I sent the video I took of the cabin to my parents. “Can you believe this?” I asked. And do you know what my dad said? “Great log construction.” After that, the cabin was all we could talk about. “Could you believe those plants?” “Did you see how big those logs were?” “I just googled Jack, look at this.” “Do you know what the insulating factor of logs is?” “How much did he say he was asking?” It came down to the plants. Amidst all the chaos in that house, the tender care of those decades-old plants sung the clearest. This wasn’t just a place Jack lived in, it was a place that wanted to be lived in. We made an offer the next day.

Jack had six months to clear out his 30 odd years of collecting, and the town had six months to speculate about the worrisome Californians moving to their high-altitude, high-risk town. The town itself is an old mining town. It rests in a high valley, surrounded by peaks over 13,000ft, and is over six hours from the nearest major airport. Five people died around this town in avalanches this past year. The dirt road into town is littered with avalanche fields, warning visitors to not stop when driving in. The other way out is a pass road, only drivable in the warm months, but you could skin out if it was dire. Most August days, the high is in the mid-60s. The valley is blanketed in wildflowers, and the aspens littering the mountainsides suggest a promising fall display. The town had a heyday, a low day, and now it’s a community of preppers, adventurers, appreciators, and “get all these idiots away from me”ers. We don’t know these people yet, but the ones we’ve met have the same like to live hard attitude we do. Heli-ski guides, ex-CIA agents, woodworkers, bakers, teachers, just a general can-do group of people. The kind of people that see a California license plate and peer with skepticism between the thin gap over their sunglasses and under their caps.

You might say I’m romanticizing the place, but the residents are worse. Like all good old-timers, they’re full of threats: “wait’ll you see the snow drifts,” “let’s see how you do outrunning an avalanche,” “good luck with the winds,” “the last Californians didn’t last a year.” God, what does that remind me of?

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.”

With every taunt, my teeth ground more enamel, fingers rolling into a clench. And maybe Jack recognized this intensity, because on the day of closing, he hosted a gathering for us in the town's open space. He had us introduce ourselves to the skeptical locals, and I made my case in court, eyes narrowed and lips curled. “I’m the daughter of a smokejumper and wildlife biologist. I grew up watching the wind and the door. I’ve lived in big cities, small boats, and more than one cabin. I always take the stairs, I never use air-conditioning, and I’m a very good shot.” I’m just a girl, standing in front of a town, asking them to give her a fucking chance. Jack stepped forward to speak. “You know, I had my doubts about a couple Californians coming to look at my house. But these people? These are the nicest people you’re ever gonna meet.” And then I helped Jack set up his cot so he could spend his last night under the stars in the town that kept him young. Cooper ran circles with the other dogs. People brought homemade cocktails and bowls of dip and we felt welcomed. Even the mayor, a fellow writer, came and she struck up a conversation. “I hear you’ve got a little bit of a following on social media!” She teased. “I guess, nothing wild.” “Well I just wanted to let you know if you ever geotag this town, I’ll drag you out of it.” She grinned. This was a special place. And every visitor who couldn’t handle the realities of being here threatened the very wellbeing of the people who lived here. This town survives on a delicate balance. They source their own water, manage their own roads, and fervently protect the land and the people around them. Their stories about racing avalanches, snowmobiling in the dark of night to the doctor’s house, hunkering down in each other’s homes as the storms pass — these stories were bylaws. You can join when you’ve proven you’re ready to join. By their own projection, they are hardy and steadfast people, and when they see a Californian, they see something fleeting. Many years ago, I worked in the British Virgin Islands. The people born and raised there were called Belongers. At the customs office, the placards above the lines literally read, “If you belong, stand here” and “If you do not belong, stand here.” Whether or not we belong isn't up to the town council, and it's not up to these residents. It's up to years spent drifting my old Mustang in the snow on the way to school, up to Ben's months and months spent in the backcountry, up to my years of reading fire reports and assisting with evacuations, up to Ben's ability to read the landscape and the weather, up to my doggedness, his diligence, and our pathological love to do difficult things well. It’s up to us, to these old logs, and to this valley. Doesn't mean we'll belong, but it does mean we'll try. And for the record, the road is open in the winter. But do these sound like the kind of people who’d tell Google that? Next week, a tour of the house that we get to call ours — stuffed with newspaper, run by plants, and filled with mice. P.S. Here's where we get our mail.

Subscribe to the newsletter here. Follow on Instagram here.

#newsletters #amwriting #relocation #home renovation #cabin life #cabin living #colorado #log cabin

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conradscrime · 3 years ago

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The Lake Shawnee Abandoned Amusement Park

October 08, 2021

In 1775, a man named Mitchell Clay, Mercer County’s first white settler and his family made their home on the land that the Lake Shawnee Amusement Park would be on 150 years later. However, Mercer County was home to a Native American tribe and Mitchell’s settlement began a violent turf war between the two.

In 1783, a group of Shawnee Native Americans murdered Mitchell’s son, Bartley and daughter, Tabitha. The Native Americans took the third child, Ezekiel and burned him at the stake. Mitchell Clay, along with a group of white settlers decided to seek revenge on the Native Americans and murdered several of them.

Over 150 years later, a man named Conley T. Snidow purchased this land and turned it into an amusement park that started in 1926 and ended up in business for 40 years, before shutting down in 1967. Conley had built a swing set, a ferris wheel and had opened up the pond for swimming.

The current owner, a man named Chris White, whose father, Gaylord White bought the amusement park in the 1980′s, claims that during the park’s time they would rent out wool bathing suits for 15 cents and there was also two water slides and multiple diving boards for families to enjoy.

Lake Shawnee Amusement Park also had a speakeasy and a dance hall. With lots to offer, this place was extremely popular in the summer time for children and adults to have fun.

However, many tragedies struck Lake Shawnee Amusement Park, including the death of two boys who drowned - one in the lake which wasn’t meant for swimming, and the other in the pond which was meant for swimming. Another little girl died accidentally in 1966 when a truck delivering drinks backed into the swings which she was occupying at the time. Chris White says this was the reason that the amusement park closed, though other sources claim it closed due to failing an inspection.

There is supposedly 6 deaths that occurred while the amusement park was opened for 40 years.

Gaylord White, who is now deceased, but had worked at the amusement park as a youth, had bought the park in the 1980′s and re-opened it for a few years. The White family had brought in a ferris wheel and had accidentally found the original swings that used to be in the park. The White’s also added some paddle boats, bumper boats and a stage.

The amusement park’s reboot was short lived, ending three years later when insurance rates forced them to close it down again. In the early 1990′s the White family made a discovery. Chris said they were bulldozing when they came across some artifacts such as arrowheads and pots. They got a team from Marshall University to come out and take a look, where they eventually discovered multiple children’s graves, where experts believe there are at least 3000 bodies buried there.

Many believe that a bad flu went around, and in order to save the tribe, many left the area leaving behind the elderly and kids, which is seemingly who many believe these remains belong to.

Given the tragic history of the place, it is not hard to believe that many think the abandoned amusement park is haunted which has gained much attention to it. The Whites began giving tours during the week of Halloween in the 1990′s, which then attracted ghost hunters, even the discovery channel filmed at the park.

One incident that happened was when an investigator had gotten stuck in one of the old ticket booths. Apparently she was screaming for help and was pushing on the push door but it wouldn’t open.

Chris White also said his dad had an encounter with the little girl who had lost her life on the swings in 1966. Gaylord White had been mowing the field when he felt a weight on his shoulders. He turned around and saw a little girl from the swings wearing a ruffled dress.

It has also been reported that the wooden swings will creak and you can feel a warm presence on the seat, supposedly being the little girl. Another report claimed that the little girl appears with blood on her dress, and as long as she’s looking at you, you are unable to move.

Some visitors have reported hearing footsteps, mysterious chants, and children. The amusement park has been featured as one of the most terrifying places in America, as well as one of the 10 most haunted places in the world.

#mystery #UNSOLVED MYSTERIES #murder #true crime #Crime #haunted #ghosts #31daysofhalloween

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fatehbaz · 4 years ago

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The summit started off with [...] a tour of what is called the “sacrifice zone”, in zip code 4827 which is mostly made up of low income, black communities surrounded by over 80 corporate polluters.

According to Robert D. Bullard, “Sacrifice zones are often “fenceline communities” of low-income and people of color, or “hot spots” of chemical pollution where residents live immediately adjacent to heavily polluted industries or military bases. Quite often, this pattern of unequal protection constitutes environmental racism [...]. Sacrifice Zones graphically describes what life is like for people of color and poor people who live on the “wrong side of the tracks” and in “throw-away communities” whose residents receive unequal protection, if any protection at all; such communities contain locally unwanted land uses, or LULUs, and industries deposit pollutants just outside the factory gates.” (NCBI).

One of our stops was to DTE Energy and Great Lakes Steel, both of which sandwich Belanger Park- -- a recreational area for walking, boating, biking and with a pretty extensive playground for children. The 9.5 acre Belanger Park is part of a recent restoration effort attempting to make the waterfront area more attractive so the city invested $1 million to restore the park which was completed in 1999. However, Belanger Park has been around for a while, and Grandmother Emma Lockridge, a longtime resident of the area said that she grew up playing in that park and was constantly exposed to toxic substances in the area. She told us that “your zip code determines how long you live.” Emma suffers from kidney failure and non Hodgkin’s lymphoma which are common diseases in this sacrifice zone. In a talk she gave during the tour, she stated,

“...and we were out there playing, on that playground, and we don’t know how long that lead or the deposits were there. I ate dirt on that playground, rolled in that dirt and so now I end up with kidney failure. I have over forty first cousins in my family and no one has kidney failure in my family….just my sister, just the two of us. Just the person next door to me has kidney failure. Just the person across the street from me who died of kidney failure. Just the guy around the block from me who comes to cut my lawn and is now going to dialysis everyday, who also played on the playground.” (FB Seeding Sovereignty) [...]

Basically, it is a frontline for exposure to a wide array of toxic wastes, heavy metals and air pollutants. For instance, DTE Energy is responsible for 80% the sulfur dioxide emissions in Wayne County, MI. And DTE sits RIGHT BESIDE Belanger Park, a place where families are encouraged to bring their children to play, a place where people are encouraged to “go for a walk”. And yet just a few lots down, thousands of seagulls regularly flock to eat the dead fish that float to the top of the river that flows by that park. [...] As locals fight for clean air, water and land, Nestle continues to take billions of gallons of water from the Great Lakes in the area each year. [...]

It is hard to comprehend the incongruity of such a project meant for the well being of a community. It is absolute hypocrisy and a perfect example of environmental racism where rich corporations and corrupt politicians would build a park to appease the suffering people in the area rather than buy them out in order to remove [...] the toxicity they are subject to.

And just to be clear, Marathon, one of the major polluters in zip code 48217 bought out a mostly white neighborhood, Oakwood Heights in 2011. Emma Lockridge was not lucky enough to get such an offer. [...] She simply cannot afford to move, just like most residents in the area.

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Christine Nobiss for Seeding Sovereignty (on f@cebook). 1 June 2018.

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nightwingshero · 5 years ago

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Claws and Fangs

My werewolf au!!! My first shot at it, but here it goes!!

Montana wasn’t the top of my list of states to visit, let alone live. It never would have crossed my mind. I dreamed of the shiny lights of LA, Atlanta, New York, or even Paris. Never some town nobody has heard of in a state many people didn’t talk about much. Don’t get me wrong, the idea of at least seeing the National Parks was enticing, a part of nature that not many people got to see in their lifetime. But living here? Never crossed my mind.

Rowan had been right though, like she was about most things. Part of me wondered if her being just a bit older had anything to do with it, or the fact that she had seen more than I had to truly understand the reasoning behind why. I couldn’t say that Montana was terrible. Growing up in Oklahoma, farming country wasn’t exactly foreign to me. I’ve seen it, I’ve lived it. I guess it had made being what I am easier, kept the secret where it needed to be. Rowan hadn’t been so fortunate. Her brother dying only eight years prior, hunted down by our own kind.

That led us together, ironically. My father punishing me for years for what I was, or what I wasn’t, and my snapping. Rowan’s loss and her wondering without direction. She found me that night, terrified out of my mind for what I had done. She was there to clean it; she was there to make it okay. And we’ve stuck together ever since.

I sigh and shift in the passenger seat, staring off into the fields and forests that passed us by as we drove. My feet propped on the door as wind whipped through the open window. It smelled so differently here, causing my heart to race in excitement. The promising freedom of it, all this land to run on, was refreshing to think about. It smelled like sunshine and clean water. It had me practically begging for a run in ever which direction. The freedom it promised…was so tempting. A certain scent lingered in the air that I couldn’t put my finger on, a spice that tickled my nose with a hint of…sandalwood? A shiver went down my spine as I reveled in it. I wanted to follow it, roll in it, and embrace it. But we had both agreed before we got here: no changing until we got a feel for the place and settled. We couldn’t risk anything before we could have a chance to actually have a home to call ours.

The scent began to fade quickly as we crossed a bridge, the sound of the river music to my ears before something sweet floated into our car. I rubbed my nose after sneezing, trying to adjust to the sudden change. We slowed before Rowan pulled into a gas station, shutting the car off at the pump with a sigh. Being cramped up in a small space for hours on end was hard, even with me being claustrophobic. It was never good for anyone, making their joints sore and themselves stir crazy. It was even worse for us; it drove us insane. We weren’t meant to be in confined spaces, it was against our very nature. I could feel the desperate urge to whine and pace, to hide in the woods and never come out. But I knew better. And if I had to be fairly honest, the other side of me liked car rides. They just never last long.

“I’m gonna go pay for gas. Want to grab some snacks for us?” Rowan asked, her dark brown eyes meeting my blue green once, and I can see the toll this has on her, too.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I replied, the dryness in my throat becoming more and more obvious. I opened the door, tugging at the cut off shorts that Rowan insisted would help us fit in. Which was why I had a blue flannel tied around my waist, instead of wearing the leather jacket that was now packed away. We didn’t want to appear too suspicious, and if that meant a change in wardrobe, then so be it. She rolled up the sleeves of the red flannel as we walked towards the store, and I could feel the heat of the sun on my exposed arms as the cool breeze swept in to soothe it.

The bell above the door rang as we entered, a blast of cool air washing over us. I could hear the unit running raggedly in the back, and I didn’t think it would last much longer. The old man at the counter looked up from his outdoors magazine and narrowed his eyes, but we pretended not to notice. Rowan moved to the counter, taking some cash from her back pocket. I made my way down the aisles, noting the jerky and off brand pastries that I knew had to be somewhat stale at this point. I sneered slightly at the smell of the preservatives. I could almost gag.

Finally making it to the back, I pull open a cooler door to grab a couple waters. I raised a brow at the lack of a biting chill before letting the door slam shut. I weigh my options as I eye the snacks one more time, feeling the gaze of the old man on me as Rowan waited. I caved, grabbing the jerky and some chips. Something was better than nothing, and I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here. I round the corner and come up on a shelf of brochures on my left. I slow, taking them in. Some were for the national park in the Henbane, the hiking up North in the mountains, an apple orchard in the Valley east of us, and a haunted house tour of an old hotel.

A colorful pink one in particular caught my attention enough to grab it on the way. I stuff it in my back pocket before approaching the counter, setting the rewards of my hunting trip down for the cashier. His eyes narrow again before he starts scanning, grumbling, and his eyes drop to the line of my tank top. I almost growl and make a show of my teeth to give this man something to really look at, but I know better. So, I just clear my throat and glare back.

He rolled his eyes before telling Rowan our total. She hands it over with a smile, thanking him and telling him to keep the change before we’re finally making our way back outside. I settle back in the passenger seat while Rowan pumps the gas. I stick my Converse out the window as I lean back, pulling the jerky out of the plastic bag. My mouth waters, but I know that as soon as I eat it, I’ll be disappointed. It had been too long since we last hunted, not daring to take the risk of being tracked down. It made me restless.

The driver’s door opened as Rowan sat back in, fastening her seatbelt as she went. “There. That should hold us for a while. At least it can give us time to find somewhere else to go where I won’t have to be worried about being killed or kidnapped. Was I the only one getting a Cabin in the Woods vibe from that guy?”

I hum before I pull out the brochure from my pocket. “I pity any serial killer that tries to pull that shit on us. We bite back.” I flip it open, scanning and reading.

“Not really my taste.”

I chuckled and turned to her. “Hey, check this out.” I show her the hot pink trifold.

“Drubman Marina?” Rowan asked with a crinkle of her nose. “Like, I know you like the water, Wren, but I think we should probably find a place to live before we think about buying a boat. And I’m not really down for a houseboat. I’m sorry, I draw the line there. We agreed.”

“No, I know.” I flipped it open, pointing as I go. “She’s a real estate agent, and she’s right in the Henbane region. I don’t think she’s that far…” I trail off as I pull out a Hope County map that we had gotten at the visitor’s center right out of the county line. My eyes wondered over the Holland Valley region briefly, the memory of the scent there. Curiosity gnawed at me as I traced a road the small town, Fall’s End.

“It looks like she’s actually on the border of the Whitetails. Maybe she’ll know of some lodging up that way, something that can tide us over until we find something more permanent. It’ll give us a chance to get to know the area, too.”

“Yeah.” I replied, breaking from my trance. “I wonder if she takes walk ins.”

Rowan turned the key, the engine coming to life. “Guess we’re going to find out.”

“This is exciting! Y’know, we never get newcomers. I always have to deal with people who’ve lived here all their lives. Never get to show people the wonders of this treasure state of ours.” The blonde goes on as she shuffles through the bottom drawer of her filing cabinet, her back to us and bent in her chair. She pops her gum, the smell of cotton candy strong and I have to find my happy place. I could handle sweet, it wasn’t an issue, but it was so heavy in the Henbane. Mix it with the sweetness of Adelaide Drubman, and suddenly I was overwhelmed by it.

Seeming to find what she was looking for, she straightens and turns back to us, dropping the file heavy on her desk, making Rowan and I jump. “There we go! I have all kinds of stuff in this damn thing, let’s see if I can find what y’all are lookin’ for. Let’s start with regions. Now, each one has a special charm, and I’m Henbane’s.” She joked with a wink and a smile on her pink-painted lips.

“We actually did some research beforehand and had an idea of where.” Rowan chimed in with a polite smile. I could see just a hint of disappointment in Adelaide’s crystal blue eyes, but that doesn’t deter her.

“Which one did you ladies settle on?” The itching came back, that little gnawing at the back of my mind, and as Rowan answered, I impulsively blurted out mine, too.

“Whitetail—”

“Holland Valley.”

Adelaide’s brow raised as Rowan whipped her head around, her eyes scanning my face as I glance back at her. Her eyes show confusion and just a bit of concern. She cast a look at the blonde. “Can we…?”

“Oh, you go right ahead, darlin’.” Adelaide turned away, looking through her stack as Rowan’s attention fell back on me.

“Wren…I thought we talked about this. We both agreed. The Whitetails are better for us, it’s more…isolated. There would be more privacy, and it could be better hunting.” Rowan whispered, eyeing Adelaide here and there, the blonde humming lightly to herself.

Guilt bubbled inside, because she was absolutely right. We both agreed, it was a part of our plan. The Whitetails would offer us the sanctuary we needed. The Henbane was the second choice. Rangers and hikers to the north and east. Protected land that we desperately needed. Holland Valley was never an option, the chance of there not being enough cover for the both of us there. It was too open. But for some reason, I couldn’t get that damn scent out of my mind.

I leaned closer to Rowan, dropping my voice. “I know, and I’m sorry. But…did you not smell that on our drive through?”

Her dark brows furrowed. “Smell what?”

I sigh lightly, contemplating and frustrated. This wasn’t something that happened with us, being on different pages. Doubt began to eat at my insides. “I know it sounds crazy, but I smelled something strong and just…god, it was so enticing. I’ve never smelled anything like it before.”

Adelaide coughs a bit as Rowan tilts her head in contemplation. “We can check it out when everything is settled, I promise. But I think we should stick to the other two.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“You know,” Adelaide gave us a look with her brow raised. “Some of these dipshits out here might still be ignorant, but there are still a good majority of us that support your lifestyle, dears.” She smirks, a knowing look piercing us and the hairs on the back of my neck raise.

“Oh, no,” Rowan laughed before gesturing between us. “We’re not a couple. We grew up together.” Adelaide only hums, but I can tell that her words held a double meaning, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

Her face becomes a mask of shock, something ingenuine about it as it doesn’t truly meet her eyes. She shrugged and continued. “Well, I’m just saying. So, any special fellas out there for yah?”

“No.” Rowan asked with a frown, both of us a bit shocked at the question.

“Really? You two are gorgeous, I’m shocked.” She laughed, and we give each other a quick glance. We say nothing, but we both know it’s not without some sort of effort. Packs, wolves in general, were dwindling in America. Or so we’ve gathered. They migrated North or overseas, or just died off. Being rogues put targets on our backs, but being unmated females made it so much worse. Female rogues that were unmated didn’t last very long, either claimed quickly or killed. The fact we made it this far was a miracle within itself, and one that wasn’t without bloodshed.

I smiled in response. “Dating isn’t really our thing. We decided to travel and just focus on what we want to do.” I lied smoothly. Adelaide sighed wistfully.

“Oh, to be young again. I envy you girls. What I would give to just pick and go wherever.”

“It’s freeing.” Rowan replied, and I nodded. It was freeing. Not being tied to a pack, or a male with too much testosterone for his own good. I think that was what made my lip curl the most. The males reeked of testosterone. Some made me gag more than others. Rowan said it had something to do with compatibility. A female’s sense of smell had a tendency to be more…sensitive than males. While all females smelled sweet to them, some were too sweet. That’s how her brother described it. Males smelled too musky sometimes, the less compatible, the worse it was. The more compatible, the stronger the pull. But at the end of the day, they were so full of themselves that even without the smell, they were repulsive. I enjoyed tearing into each and every one of them. “So, we’re thinking the Whitetail Mountains—”

Adelaide held her hand up, stopping Rowan in midsentence. “I love the mountains, dear. Absolutely. Any other time, I would be the first to suggest it.”

“But…?” I asked, eyeing her as she leaned forward.

“But I’m going to be real honest with you, girl to girl, I don’t think it’s the best fit for you right now.” I raised a brow, my pride and wrath clawing up at not liking to be told what to do. I fought to keep my teeth from showing. I counted to ten, did everything I could to calm the beast. Rowan threw me a side look, a shocked warning in her eyes. Careful. I knew that, and I was just as shocked as she was. I hadn’t been this worked up in a long time. I had long since gotten a control of that side of me. Now, the littlest thing was setting me off into a frenzy. Adelaide’s eyes looked at me curiously before continuing. “Not that I don’t think you strong, independent girls can’t do whatever you wanted, I’m just saying that the mountains and valley might be a bit…dangerous.”

“Dangerous? How?” Rowan asked with a slight scoff and hid my smirk behind my hand. Little did Adelaide know, there was nothing in this county more dangerous than the two women in front of her.

Adelaide shrugged. “Some people don’t take kindly to new folk. And you said you wanted to go somewhere isolated. The mountains are unforgiving, ladies. Things go bump in the night there and in the valley. This region offers both decent isolation, and great views. The sheriff’s station is also in this area, so if anything happens, you have a faster response. Besides, anything out of this region, you’ll have to go through John Seed when it comes to land. A lawyer makes things a bit more complicated, dears. Makes the process go a bit longer. And I don’t know if y’all want that. Trust me, I think you would love it here. Besides, we could be neighbors!”

Rowan and I share one last look, contemplating. The doubt was there, for sure. Trusting a total stranger, someone who would have absolutely no idea as to what we were and what we could do, over our own paranoia. But getting a lawyer involved was out of the question. It raised too many flags, and we needed to stay as off the grid as possible. We needed safety; it was the whole point of being here. To find a home we could reside without being discovered, and we were in an unknown territory. The choice was obvious, and we both came to that understanding without a word.

It took us a week to get everything settled legally and moved in. I eventually got used to overly sweet scent, my nose only burning here and there. Adelaide and her boy toy, Xander, had graciously offered to help us. She was starting to grow on me more and more as time went on. She showed us the best place to go shopping, to get fresh meat, and highly recommended a pizza place not too far off the way. Our first night running was short and cautious, getting a feel for the land.

We stocked up on supplies, not having anything else better to do. Rowan applying for the newest park ranger posting, insisting it would help us blend in and establish some sort of roots here. I didn’t know how I felt about that, having been on the move all these years. I felt dizzy while everything seemed to finally slow down around us. I didn’t really think we could ever be able to do this, to have some sort of semblance of normality in our lives. It gave me hope.

The air was crisp, the sky full of stars as we got out of the car. The 8 Bit Pizza bar was busy and in full swing, even at eight in the evening. Outside, we could see Addie’s son and nephew, Hurk Jr and Boshaw, drinking beer and laughing away. They had helped us move furniture in, Adelaide not taking no for an answer. I opened my mouth to say something, but I froze, my feet coming to an immediate stop as the scent hits my nose. My mouth twists in distaste as Rowan’s nose crinkles. We both look, our guard up and prepared for anything.

I spot a cruiser at the end of the parking lot, closer to the forest. Two men, one older and the other younger, stood close and whispering urgently to each other. Even with my enhanced hearing, the noise from the establishment made it nearly impossible to hear what they were saying. Before Rowan and I move to leave, the older man caught our eyes and his head tilted to the side. His companion whipped his head around, taken in what had caught the old man’s attention.

He’s not unattractive, his tan skin and messy, swept back hair. He rolls his shoulders back, his chest puffing out a bit in the process. I sigh internally, because it was a show we’ve seen before, and I wonder who is the first one to die. Males didn’t typically take rejection well, despite how desperately we wanted peace. I’m trying to figure out a way to get out of this unscathed when the younger wolf turns and flashes his teeth, teasing and showing off.

My reaction is instantaneous. It wasn’t as much of an aggressive move as it was a way for him peacock. His way of putting himself on display while still in his skin. His way of flirting and an attempt to impress, a common move for most males. It wasn’t new to me. But the wolf was clawing inside, offended and aggravated at his audacity. It’s disrespectful to her, and she won’t stand for it. I’m shaking, fighting the instinct to go for the throat, and not for a mate’s mark. My teeth flash, promising violence and death if he dares to take another step.

Rowan squeezes my arm firmly, looking around to make sure no one is paying attention, but everyone is pretty much inside. Hurk and Sharky too plastered to comprehend what’s going on this far away. “What the hell are you doing? Wren, calm down.” She whispers harshly, softly pulling at my arm.

I wished I could answer her, but I couldn’t. I was consumed with rage and I honestly had no fucking clue what was wrong with me. I just knew this male was beneath us, unwanted, and he deserved to be put down until his throat was bare in submission. I wince, doing what I can to rein it in. I didn’t want a scene or to start off on the wrong foot. Something was wrong with me, and I needed to get my shit together. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

The older man stalks towards us with purpose, his eyes hard, and it reminds me of a time when my father did the same. The everything, the anger and offense, evaporates immediately and fear replaces it. I hated males with a passion. I hated their need to be in control, feeling more powerful than anyone else.

“Rogue females? Don’t see that every day.” His voice is gravely as he grumbles, and he spits to the side. “Name’s Dutch.”

“Didn’t think there were any more wolves around here.” Rowan replied icily as she glared at him, and he shrugs.

“There are more wolves in the North, girl. Don’t know where you come from, but we’re around up here. Maybe should’ve thought about that.”

“Noted.”

His friend finally came up to join him, and I fight to snap at him. His eyes are twinkling in amusement, as if I was nothing but a piece of entertainment for him. “Unmated females, at that. You know, that won’t last long with you being on your own.”

I sneer at him and his taunting. Dutch rolls his eyes. “Forgive this dumbass here, Pratt isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.” Pratt shot him a look, but the older man ignored him. “He’s right though. You passing through or staying?”

Rowan and I share a look, unsure of how to respond, before she throws her chin up high. “Staying. And we don’t intend on leaving anytime soon.”

Pratt let out a low whistle as Dutch rubs his bald head thoughtfully. “Ain’t no one asking you to leave, girlie. Relax.” He held his hands in surrender. “Just thought you could use some friends, I’m sure you’re a bit short on those.” When we don’t say anything, he sighs and continues. “Look, we aren’t the only ones here. I’m offering you a friendship, here.”

“You don’t know us.” I blurted, eyeing him up and down, trying to size him up as my instincts kicked in. He was a strong beta and could possibly pass for an alpha status. He carried himself as if he was a leader, more than what was pumping through his veins. Pratt was no better; except I knew that beta was all he could ever be. “What’s in it for you?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Everyone starts off not knowing each other real well, don’t they? I figured maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a makeshift pack. Rogues don’t last long on their own, which is why I’m sure you two are running around together.” I shift uneasily, because he’s not wrong. When my father died, I had felt it. I had felt the loneliness of being without a pack, or at least someone. Rowan and I had stuck together ever since, but it wasn’t enough. I could feel the pull, the desperate need for more than what we had.

“And what? Are you supposed to be the head of it?” Rowan asked genuinely, and I held my scoff to myself as he smiled at her.

“Of course. And I take care of my own.” He reached his hand out. “Friends?”

We both hesitate, unsure of what to do in this situation. Both of them together is making me want to gag, their scents mingling and making me want to hurl. Maybe at one time, Pratt would’ve smelled more appealing to me, his pine undertone with a crisp scent I can’t pinpoint. But it’s not good enough, not anymore. I can feel myself looking down on him, despite him being a bit taller.

Rowan sighed, her hand grasping his. “Friends.” I follow suit, offering him, and him alone, a polite smile. This male is no threat to us, not showing a bit of interest like his partner. It’s easier to make friends with strangers who haven’t offended you.

“Word of the wise, ladies.” He said, holding up his pointer finger. “Stay clear of those mountains and that valley. Like I said, we’re not the only wolves around here. I have some land, an island in the center of the county. You’re more than welcome to stop by whenever you want.”

Adelaide calls to us, making Rowan and I jump out of our skins. The blonde eyes Dutch with a sickly-sweet smile, malice shining in her bright blues. I’m taken aback by it, knowing nothing but kindness from the woman. She motions us forward, beckoning us to join her and her family inside. We part ways with the males, eager for the escape, and Addie doesn’t follow us in until she sees them leave. She turns to us, lips pursed.

“Be careful, ladies. You’re better off in the Valley or Whitetails than to hang around him. Trust me, he’s not what he claims to be.”

“So, we agree?” Rowan asked on our drive home. “That we keep our fucking heads down. I do my job at the springs, you do whatever. I heard of a deputy posting at the jail, wouldn’t hurt. But either way, we stay the fuck away from whatever is going down. Right?”

“Why don’t we just leave?” I ask, glancing at Rowan. “It’s been a week, and we’ve already stepped into a werewolf soap opera. I don’t know about you, but I could do without dramatics. Or that pup sniffing around.” I sneer.

Rowan scoffed. “Is this about the drama or the male?”

“Why can’t it be both?”

“I like it here.” Rowan admitted. “I think it’s pretty and it could do us some good. There’s an older wolf here that seems to mean well. And it wasn’t like we were running eager to Holland Valley or the Whitetails. Sure, we contemplated it, but we know the area better now.”

I frowned and I picked at the edge of my t-shirt. “What about that scent? The one I caught when we were driving through the valley?”

“It could’ve been a fluke, Wren. Maybe it’s best to stay in the Henbane, you know?” she sighed and glanced at me. “You wanna talk about what happened back there?”

I turned, looking out the window as I shrug. “I have no clue. I haven’t lost control like that in a long time. It just bothered me, you know? I felt like he wasn’t…good enough.”

“When hasn’t that been the case for either of us?” Rowan laughed.

“It was different this time.” I turned back to her; my brow furrowed. “I, my wolf, got offended, Rowan. In the worst possible way.”

Rowan frowned. “Wren, he didn’t really do anything…insulting. It’s a typical practice in our nature, especially with males.”

“I know. Ro, I think there’s something wrong with me.” I glance at my hands, the dark vine tattoos contrasting on my light skin. “I was so ready to rip this guy apart, to make him submit. I’ve never felt like that before, you know?”

“And you’re sure you don’t have alpha blood in you?” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Positive.” I sighed with a roll of my eyes. “Maybe…maybe I’m just stressed from the long drive and the change of moving, you know? I just need time to adjust.” I couldn’t tell who I was trying to convince more: Rowan or myself.

#deputy wren blake #john seed #far cry 5 #my writing #far cry oc

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daggerzine · 5 years ago

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Sohrab Habibion from SAVAK (and Obits, Edsel, etc.) fills in the gaps.

I first noticed the name Sohrab Habibion in the Sub Pop band Obits nearly a decade ago. He’d then gotten in touch with me a few years back when he sent me the last Savak record, Beg Your Pardon (the band’s 3rd). I did some backtracking and realized he was in the old DC post hardcore band Edsel, whose music I enjoyed. We got to talking and I realized this guy’s had a pretty interesting career and I needed to find out more. He was more than agreeable to an interview on the DAGGER site. Oh and dig this....he recently he began posting some videos that he took of shows in the DC area in the mid-80’s, which is discussed below. Let’s all thank our lucky stars that someone was there with a video camera at shows back then.

Back to SAVAK, they have recently released their fourth full-length, Rotting Teeth in the Horses Mouth (on the Ernest Jenning Record Co label, like the last few) and it’s a terrific record. The kind of post-punk that’s not afraid to pOp! and vice versa. So needless to say Sohrab had plenty to talk about. Let’s take a trip both down memory lane and back to the future as well.

Sohrab.... always pushin’ the hair products.

Did you grow up in the DC area? If not how did you end up there?

I moved to the suburbs of DC in 1979. My mom and I drove through Hurricane David from my grandfather’s house in Leonia, New Jersey to Annandale, Virginia with all of our possessions in the back of a Chevy Chevette. We had just left Iran because of the Revolution and, after a short stay in Bergen County to gather ourselves and do some research, my parents decided that we would resettle in the DC area.

Do you remember what the first record you ever bought was? First concert?

First record: It was a cassette of Love for Sale by Boney M. Actually maybe that was a gift from a friend. Either way I think of it as my first-owned album. I quickly had the lyrics to “Ma Baker” memorized and never gave a second thought to just how weird the cassette cover art was. If you’re not familiar, perhaps imagine an S&M dungeon version of Ohio Players? As a 7-year-old I think it just didn’t register. More interesting is that the producer, Frank Farian, was also the guy behind Milli Vanilli. If you’re up for it, I recommend doing some Googling about Mr. Farian, who was born Franz Reuther just after the start of World War II in a German valley settlement once known as the “Town of Leather.” It’s good stuff, I promise.

First concert: A friend’s older sister drove us to the old 9:30 Club to see one of the club’s 3 Bands for 3 Bucks nights. I remember feeling pretty excited about being in a part of town I didn’t know and seeing all kinds of people I didn’t ordinarily see. This was probably 1983 or 1984 so it was heavy on the New Wave look. In the basement of 9:30, once you’d squeezed down the narrow flight of stairs, there were bathrooms as well as a small counter that sold records and tapes. I bought The Halloween Cassette—a WGNS comp with Gray Matter, United Mutation, Velvet Monkeys, Malefice, Bloody Mannequin Orchestra and others—and the Minor Threat record that compiles the first two 7”s. On our drive home the DJ on WHFS played the song “Minor Threat,” which we literally had in our hands, and the whole thing felt tremendously serendipitous.

During his tryout with the Washington Bullets (Elvin Hayes beat him out).

At what age did you pick up the guitar?

One night my mom came home from a school fundraising auction with an acoustic guitar that she’d won in the raffle. I actually think it might be the only time anyone in my family has ever won a raffle. I was 13 or 14 and discovering that I was not as good of a baseball player as I’d hoped or wanted to be and the guitar felt more connected to my interests, so I started to teach myself chords and rudimentary scales. It wasn’t long before I was able to get an electric guitar and make a complete mess of sound in neighborhood basements with friends.

How old were you when the punk rock bug bit you?

Thirteen, I think. I’m pretty sure it was 7th grade. I didn’t know a lot about rock music. Having spent a chunk of my early life in Iran, I missed the boat on a lot of big, American rock’n’roll moments. I was 9 when I was first exposed to KISS by neighbors who were also in the Boy Scouts and so I kind of lumped all that costuming together and the whole thing seemed silly. Special badges and membership cards and various allegiances you were supposed to declare. I felt disengaged from a lot of things in the suburban culture around me, so punk made sense upon its arrival. It took some time to sort things out, like what made the Dead Kennedys good and The Exploited bad, but once that initial door opened, I never turned back. If anything it just opened additional doors to other subcultures and underground movements and marginalized artists and thinkers. Punk helped me recognize that my sympathies will always be with the disenfranchised, the unheralded, the amateur, the wandering tinkerer.

How and when did Edsel get together?

I met Nick Pelliocciotto and Geoff Sanoff (who wouldn’t be in Edsel for a few years) at a Government Issue show at the Hung Jury Pub. Nick and I briefly played in a band with Jim Spellman (Velocity Girl, High Back Chairs, Foxhall Stacks), but that fizzled out. So Nick and I were looking for a bass player when we saw Steve Ward play a cover of “White Rabbit” at a high school talent show. Nick and I agreed that Steve looked cool (he really did) and, when we ran into him in the parking lot, he passed our test by answering that his favorite DC band was Happy Go Licky. We started practicing in the basement of the house Nick, Jim Spellman and I lived in off Reno Road in the Cleveland Park neighborhood of DC. We didn’t know what we were doing. Nick played me a bunch of records I had never heard before and we would talk about various details in the music. He made me aware of the way certain things interacted, like the bass guitar and the kick drum. I’d never considered that. I was also unfamiliar with singing in a band, so was starting from scratch. A lot of it began as rhythmic sing-song-speak-howling that could be heard somewhat above the volume of the band. I’ll never forget recording our first demo at Inner Ear with Michael Hampton. When it came time for me to do the vocals we were all surprised by what they sounded like and Michael nicely said, “Why don’t we call it a day and you go home and work on some melodies that we can record tomorrow.” Ha! When Nick and I got back to the house we listened to a bunch of albums to get ideas for vocal melodies. The one that resonated with me was Midnight Oil’s 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and it helped me understand how you could take a simple line and move it around with chord changes. I didn’t figure out what phrasing was for some time to come, but that was the start. Thank you Michael, Nick and Peter Garrett.

How/when did you end up in NYC?

Well, it’s a circuitous story, but . . . Edsel toured a lot between 1993 and 1995. So much so that I moved back into my parents’ basement to avoid paying rent for a place I wasn’t going to be spending any time in. My folks are lovely and it was a fine arrangement, but I missed having an apartment of my own. On tour in Chicago I was presented with the opportunity of a cheap living situation in a city that I liked, so I moved there. I had this fantasy that the band could keep it together while being in 3 different cities—Geoff had moved to NYC and the two Steve’s were in DC. Not a chance. I had a good year in Chicago, working at the Empty Bottle and playing with different local musicians, but Edsel basically succumbed to inertia and I decided to move back to DC to make a solo record. My parents had a cabin in the Shenandoah Valley and I went there for a period of time with my 4-track and the hopes of discovering whatever my version of Leonard Cohen and Brian Eno might be. That didn’t happen, but I learned a lot about recording myself and making mistakes and stumbling on things I liked that I hadn’t intended. Around this point I got a call from Michael Hampton, who’d moved to New York City a few years earlier. He said his neighbor in the West Village had moved out and he wondered if I might want to take the apartment. I was feeling pretty untethered and the idea of giving Manhattan a shot was exciting, so in November 1997 I packed up my books and CDs and headed up here. I’ve since crossed the bridge over to Brooklyn, but have no plans of leaving. I love this city and all of its flaws.

How about Obits? I know Alexis was in Edsel….had you known Rick already?

Alexis played in Edsel for a few reunion shows we did in 2013, but he wasn’t in the original lineup of the group. I first met Alexis in 1985 when Lünch Meat, his band, played with Kids For Cash, my band, at my local community center. He and I also share a birthday and a similar sense of humor, so when he joined Obits after the departure of Scott Gursky, our original drummer, it was an effortless transition. I’d also played with Alexis in Girls Against Boys on a 2002 European tour that Eli couldn’t do. I was Fake Eli and got to play bass on some of my favorite GvsB tunes, which was a blast. Alexis has a humorous diary from that tour: http://www.gvsb.com/euro_diary/index.html

Here’s an excerpt just so you know it’s worth the clicks:

“scott has determined that we should get rid of all the equipment and excess drummers and bass players and just travel with a painted sheet (we in the biz call this a scrim). that way he could have a band painted on it and just cut out the head of the singer and stick his own head through. this would reduce overhead and be a whole lot less of a hassle than having squabbling bass players and drummers with no IQ whatsoever.”

Rick and I met at an art show of his in the summer of ‘99. In fact, in looking to clarify the year I came across this email I sent to a friend:

“Last night my friend Hiroshi took me to an opening of his friend Rick Froberg’s work in some unknown Lower East Side apartment/gallery. I was shocked at how incredible his stuff was. His etchings like Goya’s, his prints like a German expressionist and his paintings like a weird amalgam of Raymond Pettibon and Norman Rockwell. But everything was very original despite its familiarity. He gave me one of his prints and I actually ended up buying one of his paintings. I’m really excited about it.”

Funny thing is that on that European GvsB tour I was wearing a Hot Snakes shirt. Little could I have guessed that I’d be in a band with Alexis and Rick 10 years later. Or maybe I could’ve? Our behavior and patterns are probably more predictable than I’d like to admit.

Anyway, long and short of it is after meeting Rick we started hanging out and as Hot Snakes was winding down in the early aughts he proposed we get together and strum our guitars. We had a good time and kept at it until things started to take shape. Fast forward a bit and our friend Speck browbeat Rick into playing with her band, Orphan, at Cake Shop. That was early 2008 and the internet did us a favor by sharing a bootleg recording of our gig, which led us to signing with Sub Pop. Seems just as weird now as it did then, but so it goes! The band was a hoot to be in and we had a grand time, particularly touring. The trips we made to Europe, Australia, Japan and Brazil were fantastic. I never thought I’d be able to do that playing scrappy rock’n’roll music. All the people that we met, the local specialties that we ate and drank . . . and drank . . . and then ate some more. Unforgettable. Until I forget them. Then I’ll refer to the documentation.

Obits.....always ready to rumble (notice the switchblade comb in Froberg’s pocket).

Tell me about the end of Obits and the beginning of Savak? Who came up with the name?

The end of Obits was a little unexpected. At least the timing of it. All bands end, so it wasn’t surprising in that regard, but we had a French tour planned and had been offered some East Coast dates with Mudhoney, so it was a bummer not to be able to do those. But it had been a cold and miserable winter and Rick had some family stuff to marshal, so it felt best to call it, which is what we did on April 1st, 2015. The April Fool’s part wasn’t intentional, but I liked that it happened that way, what with being in a band often feeling like a cosmic joke anyway. But we’re all still good friends and very much in touch with each other. Funny thing is we’d actually written a fourth record with two drummers, as Matt Schulz had started playing with us as well (we did one show with both Alexis and Matt, which was fun), so on my hard drive somewhere are the demos and jams for that, including covers of “The In-Crowd” (https://youtu.be/KYbwk26mYJA) and Beasts of Bourbon’s “I Don't Care About Nothing Anymore.” (https://youtu.be/IpWi4OxhJXY)

Towards the end of Obits I’d started getting together with other friends to make noise. I was playing with Greg Simpson and Matt Schulz, doing instrumental versions of Hooterville Trolley and Shadows tunes, and separately with Michael Jaworski and Benjamin Van Dyke, just bashing out riffs. I asked all involved if they would want to combine the two and everyone was into it. The nice thing was Michael and I got to write with two different drummers, which opened up new ideas, and for a band that was just getting the swing of our internal vocabulary, it helped jumpstart the mojo.

I can’t remember at what point we were talking about band names, but when Viet Cong couldn’t take the heat for their name and decided to change it I made a joke about calling our group SAVAK. Then the more I thought about it the more I liked it and the group was on board, so we ran with it. The Iranian side of my family was a bit perplexed and bemused, but they all understood that this was a rock’n’roll outfit and not some creepy tribute to the former secret police in Iran. I’ve come to appreciate how that type of band name is a good litmus test. With a moniker like SAVAK you can see who actually knows anything about global political history, but more importantly you immediately know that anyone who takes issue with it isn’t likely to be interested in or even be familiar with punk rock or underground culture. So that person’s opinion on the subject doesn’t hold weight for me and I’ll attempt to redirect to a different subject that could be entertaining to chat about, like food or wine or bicycle maintenance or John le Carré books or, I dunno, HTML/CSS?

Savak has been recording pretty consistently…how did the new record come together so quickly? Who came up with the title?

Michael Jaworski, the other guitarist, singer and co-songwriter, came up with the title of Rotting Teeth in the Horse’s Mouth. Apparently it appeared to him in a dream and, well, I just liked the way it sounded. Both in that it reminded me of the DK’s classic Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables and as a play on the idiom “hearing it straight from the horse’s mouth,” since the current mouth we hear more often than is good for anyone’s mental health has enough proverbial rotting teeth to fill the mouth of a giant armadillo.

We worked on the album over a period of months. Sometimes we would get together with Matt Schulz, our drummer, and hammer stuff out. Other times either Michael or I would start something at home and build it from there. The main thing was to keep it feeling like a band had cut it together live, regardless of how accurate that may be on any given song. We started with 16 tunes, ditched 2 of them that weren’t as developed, and recorded the remaining 14. Then we picked the 10 that sounded the most cohesive for the album and the others will come out as singles later in the year. We spent many intensely focused hours editing, overdubbing and trying to really hone in on what each tune needed. I like discreet events in music and subtle details that may not make themselves evident for a few listens. A keyboard that only appears in the second verse or a backing vocal that’s buried deep in the right channel of the outro or a flanged cymbal crash at the top of the chorus. Stuff that doesn’t have to happen in the live version but makes the recording a little richer without being overbearing.

SAVAK, just before diving in.

In Savak, re; the songwriting process, is it both you and Michael together or do you write independently?

There’s always a collaborative element. We each add or edit the other’s songs to some degree. That’s one of the things I really like about our partnership. We actively try to keep our egos out of the way. And while we may not share the exact same taste about every little thing, we trust each other’s sensibility. I think that willingness to let go of our own ideas makes them more interesting and strengthens the working relationship.

Tell us about working with Arto Lindsay?

Rick Froberg was employed as an illustrator at a web-based, digital media shop in SoHo called Funny Garbage and he helped get me a gig making music for cartoons and video games they were producing for companies like Cartoon Network. I had access to a recording studio on a floor above our office which was run by an incredibly talented musician/producer named Andres Levin. One day ‘Dre asked if I could work on a session with a friend of his for a gallery installation. It seemed interesting, so I agreed. The guy showed up with two pillow cases that he wanted to put on his arms and flap wildly in front of a mic. His idea was to pitch the pillow case recording down a few octaves and add a lot of reverb so it would sound like a giant bird was flying. I don’t remember if he was pleased with the results, but we had a blast trying, and it turned out that fella was Arto Lindsay. He got in touch with me soon after about recording his next album. I was direct about the fact that while I was brisk with the ProTools and could run sessions efficiently, I was not a real engineer who knew about microphone placement and how to apply compression, etc. He said that was fine and arranged to rent a recording rig for his apartment and we got straight to work with Melvin Gibbs, who is Arto’s writing partner, co-producer, and bass player. We made Invoke in 2002 and two years later we made Salt, once again doing the whole thing in his Chelsea living room. Arto’s a wonderful guy, as is Melvin, and we had a terrific time together. I also learned a lot. He has such a deep knowledge of avante garde music and art and a whole world of Brazilian culture that he can tap into. And Melvin is an incredible musician, so getting to see how he approached assembling Arto’s ideas was fascinating. He was also forgiving with the fact that a punker like me was trying to edit Brazilian rhythms when I was having an impossible time even identifying the first beat of the groove. There was a lot of, “Please just tell me where the ONE is.” Arto knows a wide array of people and the process of making a record with him was very much about getting it done, but not at the expense of the vibe, so if someone dropped by you’d just have to roll with it. Sometimes that person would bring their instrument and overdub on a song or two, so I had to figure out how to be flexible about the recording process to make sure it was gonna be smooth for all involved, regardless of if it was a violin player or a guy doing a percussion track using a cardboard box. I ended up calling Geoff Sanoff for advice quite a bit—to the point where Arto would joke, “Is it time to call Geoff?” Ha! But he knew the deal going in, so all was fine. The experience of making those records was great and I got to meet some interesting folks. Also my appreciation of Brazilian music completely exploded. An unexpected and super cool project with Arto, Debbie Harry and Mikhail Baryshnikov also came from that. Another side note: when we were recording Invoke there was a song which Arto wanted to get Animal Collective involved in. This was 2001 and they were still more of a record store employee kind of band, but Arto had a couple of their CDs (Spirit They’re Gone Spirit They’ve Vanished and Danse Manatee, I think) and was really into them. We arranged to go into Stratosphere Sound, the studio that was owned by Adam Schlesinger, Andy Chase, and James Iha, where Geoff Sanoff worked, and do the session there. They had an interesting way of working—they would manipulate all of the instruments, including live drums, and have everything run through their PA and then have Geoff mic the PA speakers. So the final thing was this gauzy, mushy, blur that was like a sonic paste. They totally knew what they were doing and I was particularly impressed with Noah/Panda Bear as a musician.

Speaking of legends, how did you begin collaborating with Michael Hampton?

First we should be clear that we’re not discussing “Magic” Mike Hampton AKA Michael “Kidd Funkadelic” Hampton. According to Discogs, the Michael Hampton I know is “Michael Hampton (3)” of Brief Weeds fame. He’s a few years older than me so I missed his days in SOA and The Faith, but I was a fan and saw him in Embrace and One Last Wish. I attended American University in DC and ran into him on campus, told him I also played guitar and suggested that we “jam sometime.” Knowing him now this detail cracks me up because I’m positive I freaked him out and that he was horrified by the idea of “jamming” with an arbitrary, long-haired frosh. Some time after Edsel started we asked Michael to help produce our demo, as we were clueless about the studio. And when he was in Manifesto our bands played together and we got to be better friends. After he moved to New York, it was he and his wife, Monica, who encouraged me to move here. They also introduced me to my wife. And for the last 15 or so years we’ve worked together on soundtracks for indie films, documentaries and commercials. I can’t recall how that collaboration first started, but I love working with Michael. He’s got a quick wit, so there’s lots of yucks involved, but he also has a remarkable knack for music composition and knows how to layer ideas for perfect cinematic effect. As a guitar player he remains one of my favorites. Michael’s distilled Bob Andrews from Gen X and Captain Sensible and George Harrison and all these choice rock’n’roll and punk players into something distinctly his own.

Somewhere in Madrid, Spain (Spain Radio Nacional)

Tell us your top 10 desert island discs?

That’s tough. I’d like to ensure a bunch of different moods are covered, so let’s see . . . how about:

Hamza El Din - Music Of Nubia

Tsegué-Maryam Guèbrou - Éthiopiques 21: Piano Solo

Mark Hollis - s/t

Skip James - Today!

Charles Mingus - The Black Saint And The Sinner Lady

Mission Of Burma - Vs.

The Rolling Stones - Sticky Fingers

Television - Marquee Moon

The Velvet Underground - s/t

Wire - 154

Who are some of your favorite current bands?

Bed Wettin' Bad Boys, Cable Ties, Contractions, FACS, Gotobeds, Grey Hairs, Hammered Hulls, Hot Snakes, Light Beams, METZ, Mint Mile, Modern Nature, Patois Counselors, Pays P., Rattle, Skull Practitioners, Slum of Legs, Sunwatchers, Tanning Bats, TK Echo, The Unit Ama.

I know I’m forgetting stuff. There’s a ton of excellent music being made right now.

What’s next for Savak? Once the lockdown is over will you guys tour?

It’s hard to be certain about anything these days, but I do know we’re eager to play once the Javel water has cleared. My hope is that we reschedule our UK tour as well as the shows we had on deck with Archers of Loaf. We were also trying to coordinate a Japanese tour, which we’d love to do, so I’ll add that to the list.

In the meantime we have a couple of non-album singles coming out later in the year.

I love making music, so whatever form it needs to take to make it work given our circumstances I’m fine with. Wanna jam on our phones? Hit me up!

SAVAK’s new one- Rotting Teeth in The Horses Mouth

BONUS QUESTION: Tell us about all of those shows you recorded in the 80’s and have been putting up on the Dischord page? Great stuff!

Thanks! My mom bought me a Sony Betacam in 1985. I honestly had no inclination towards videotaping anything prior to this, but I think she may have thought it was a positive thing for a teenager to get involved in instead of playing Atari or hanging out at the Orange Julius at the mall or whatever. So I had this camera and I started taping what I was doing, which was basically going to shows. I didn’t think much about it and I never watched the tapes afterwards, so just slowly built up a collection of recordings that sat in a box at my parents’ house for years. It wasn’t until James Schneider started working on what eventually became the Punk the Capital movie that the tapes were unearthed. Then Scott Crawford wanted to use them for Salad Days and had the genius idea of getting Dave Grohl’s production company to digitize them, as they wanted footage for that Sonic Highways show. So at Scott’s suggestion I sheepishly asked if it was something they could do and they immediately said yes. I was pretty stunned by their generosity. The tapes themselves are now part of the Punk Archive in the DC Public Library, which is both cool and hilarious. The idea of random stuff I videotaped when I was 15 being part of an institutional archive is pretty absurd. Now that I’ve got this extra pandemic time to spend in front of my computer, I’ve been editing down each set, adjusting the light balance so the footage is less murky and also remastering the audio so they sound better. The timing of the Dischord Records Fan Page on Facebook is fortuitous, as it provides a reasonably eager audience for what might have otherwise just been a few additional gigs of server space being cooled in a Google data center in Moncks Corner, South Carolina.

“Who you callin’ a low life?”

www.savakband.com

www.savak.bandcamp.com

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hayleygunswood · 5 years ago

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Hayley was glad the winter season was almost at its end. She was starting to get a little stir crazy a sentiment she was sure to regret when things really ramped up in April. The winter months were good for training, she had to admit, and it wasn’t like their 24/h facility didn’t have it’s fair share of fights, overdoses, and sheer stupid accidents on the strip daily. But Hayley was an ocean lover at heart, and most of the action in the winter that involved the ocean happened to be in freezing and choppy waters. Still, she had to admit she was glad she’d taken the full time lifeguard position with the LA County Fire Department lifeguard division, needing the change from the San Diego position she was definitely overqualified for as a lifeguard paramedic.

It was a good step, there was more she could do in the long term but eventually if she wanted to she’d have ample training to have a one up in her coast guard application. She was already looking forward to some more long term training for ocean specialist rotation at the end of the month as it involved more boating rescues. Right now though she was happy working out of their full time facilities, one of the four operational year long on the LA county cost line, deploying when they needed to and making herself busy on the down time.

Hayley was just about to head out to patrol from the main tower, when she ran (literally) into someone just outside the lifeguard doors, pickup keys in her hand and windbreaker on. “Oh shoot, sorry about that,” she said as she stepped back and gave the person some space. Naturally her eyes did a once over of the other woman, ensuring she didn’t stumble into someone with serious injuries. “What can I do for ya today? Please say I can do something, anything, a tour perhaps? Do you need a bandaid? For real, what can I do for you, I’m at your service.”

#tlawstarter #honestly third paragraph is really whats important the rest is just fan servicing myself on how cool her job is #LA firefighter lifeguards are so cool i am almost a little jealous at all they shit they get to do #i just went down a rabbit hole on their insta page #gonna be a good time writing hayley

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duketheman · 5 years ago

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“The Newport Story”

Third Generation

Key Largo, Florida 2004

“Harry and Julia”

I was 12 years old when our Grandmother passed, but I’ve never forgotten what she told us: Be kind, Honest, Hard working & Proud of who you are! Never forget where you came from! Grandma Nippy would tell us stories of her & my Grandfather “Joe”. He was an Oilman through & through. He met her in Houston, when it was just a small Oil town; where they fell in love. She always told us he was her Knight in Shining Armor. He passed some years later. We never got to meet him, but we knew him nevertheless; Our Grandmother made sure of that!

My name is Harold Joseph Newport & this is my Story:

I always said to myself, Harry: You’re going places! I’m lucky to have had the parents I did, because they taught me to go after my Dreams.

After returning from Afghanistan & being discharged from the Army, I did just that!

I love the Sea & am Captain of the “Willow”, best little Tour Boat in “The Keys”! Always liked going it alone & never thought about getting married until I met Julia.

She, along with friends hired “The Willow” to tour the 113 Mile journey across the prettiest Islands this side of Heaven! She was more than Beautiful, she was a Dream come true & my heart nearly stopped when I saw her!

Suddenly, going it alone wasn’t important to me anymore! I said to myself: Harry, you’re gonna marry that girl; so I did everything possible to get her attention. After returning to the shore of Key Largo, I ask her to dinner & to my surprise she says: Yes, I was hoping you would to ask me out!

My heart begins to pound in my chest. I'm ecstatic! So begins my journey of Love!!!

I make reservations at “Sundowners”, It’s famous for foods of the Caribbean.

I arrive at the “Hotel Marriott” on the Bay & knock on her hotel door, Room# 103 at 6:00 pm sharp.

She opens the door! Hi Harry, you’re right on time! I'm looking at a real Lady. She is absolutely Gorgeous & I'm nervous as Hell!

We arrive at “Sundowners” at 7:30pm. We order Shrimp & Mahi with Lemongrass sauce, White wine & Arora Marti for desert. The meal is absolutely delicious. We enjoy ourselves immensely. It’s like we’re made for each other!

After dinner I take her Dancing at the “Caribbean” Club. I’m with the prettiest girl there & proud of it! We dance until closing. On the way back to her hotel, we stop for coffee & we talk until dawn. I don’t want it to ever end but I know I have to get her back to her room. When we get to her door, I just kiss her. She looks at me, smiles, wraps her arms around me & kisses me, really kisses me; she says; Harry, I had a wonderful time. Thank you. I ask her: Can I see you again? Of course she says: I’m free today! Call me, you got the number!!! Ok I reply, I will certainly call you! She winks at me & says: See you later Alligator & shuts the door. I kicked my feet together & tell myself: God you’re lucky Harry….

I give her time to get some sleep, call her & ask: What do you want to do today?

She replies: I want to see the Dolphins swim Harry, I love Dolphins Harry; can you take me to see the Dolphins? I answer: Your wish is my Command Milady!

I pick her up at 2:00pm, she’s wearing Shorts with a Black Bandeau. She's Beautiful & I’m in awe! We take the “Willow” out to see the Dolphins swim. She says: I always loved Dolphins. They bring you luck you know? They brought us together Harry! She asks: Harry, Do you believe in love at first sight? I say: I do indeed. I fell in love with you at first sight! She replies: I know Harry, I sensed it. Harry she says: I love you too!

We get back to Shore at 8:00pm or so & go for dinner at the Hotel. Afterwards, I escort her up to her room & open the door for her! Harry she says: Stay with me tonight? I answer: Of course I will! This night is the beginning of the rest of my life!

We stand a moment by the bed, & just look at each other. I take her in my arms, caress her face; look into her eyes & say: I love you! She replies: Me too my Harry, I love you! I gently lay her down on the bed. Her beauty takes my breath away & she is my every Dream. I begin to caress her body with my lips. Like a Panther on the prowl, I taste her every essence moving downward; as if searching for my next meal. I find myself between her thighs, hungering for what awaits me. I taste the hanging fruit & it’s sweet. She quivers & moans, calling my name. I’m aroused & can feel myself throbbing. I move my tongue up & downward, slipping it inside & out of her; driving her insane with pleasure. I return to the fruit of life, for the much anticipated nectar about to flow. I take it between my lip’s hitting it with my tongue in a fast motion until she explodes, releasing her love juices. I waste not a drop as it drunkens me with ecstasy.

I move back to her side & say: I love you. She looks at me & replies: I love you too. She sits up, forces me down as she moves to take my throbbing Manhood into her mouth, pumping it dry. The pain of ecstasy is great & lasting, as she’s careful to draw it out slowly. She sits up, smiles at me, then returns to my side, stroking me until I become aroused again. We make love until both of us are exhausted, falling asleep embraced in each other’s arms. When we awake we talk about us. Then she says: Harry, I’ve got to go home to Louisiana tomorrow Harry! I didn’t know what to say! I ask: Don’t go? I say: You can’t, besides I want you to meet my Parents. They live in Madison County, about 3 hours from here. Please Darling stay? She answers: Ok Hary. I’ll stay. I love you Harry, & I want to meet your parents. Ok then I say, it’s settled! I will call my Mother today & let her know.

I call my mother that evening & tell her I’m bringing a girl home to meet her tomorrow. She’s out of her mind with happiness. She says: Harold, it’s about time son!

I call Julia & tell her: we're expected at my parents house tomorrow. We both decide to rest up so we're at our best for Mother & Father. I pick Julia up at 8:00am & we head for the Airport. Madison County is approximately 740 miles from Key Largo so, flying is the way to go!

We land at Valdosta Regional Airport, in Georgia at 1:30pm. Madison County is nestled in the corner of Florida Bordering Georgia. Father picks us up & is happy to see me. He asks: And who do we have here son? I answer: Father, this is Julia & I’m madly in love with her! He turns to me, smiles & says: Well, that is good news! Turns to Julia, says: I’m very happy to meet you. Now let’s go home, Mother’s expecting us!

The Mansion my Parents live in is only 30 minutes from the Airport. My Grandmother left it to us. It's a Beautiful old place, but much to large for me.

We reach Newport Mansion & my Mother is sitting on a swing out in the Courtyard waiting for us. I’m reminded of my days here as a child & how much time my Grandma Nippy spent with us. She taught us how to be who we are, & my Mother carried it over to our adulthood. Mother’s happy to see us. As soon as we step out of the car, she asks: Lemonade? All at once we answer: Please? Mother I say: I would like to introduce you to Julia. Father adds: And he’s madly in love with her! Smiles & raises his lemonade in a toast! Mother says: ‘O Goodie, that’s wonderful news, wonderful indeed. Come on, let’s sit here in the shade & catch up! She takes Julia by the hand and says: You sit here Dear, next to me. I want to get to know you. The two of them get along really well. Mother likes her, I can tell! We talk for hours, until we hear the Dinner bell! Dinner is served says the Butler! We go inside & are seated at the table. That huge table I remember so well. I whispered to Julia: What do you think of them my Love? She smiles & replies: I love them so much. Harry, I didn’t know you were rich! I say: I’m not my love, My Grandparents were in Oil & my parents inherited the place, not that they needed it. My father & Mother did quite well on their own. I had everything I ever needed growing up! Julia says: It’s all just Beautiful, Harry; I love you! I’m so happy you brought me here. Thank you Harry!

After dinner I propose to her, on one knee. I slip the ring on her finger & Say:

My Darling;

~My heart in aches to hold you close

thundering in of storm~

~Sending bursts of lightning strokes

throughout my mortal form~

~Of that my soul in catches fire

raging through of through~

~Spewing flames of hot desire

burning love of you~

~I would walk ten thousand miles

slay a Beast from Hell-

~To lay beside you just a while

and know you to be well-

~To embrace you in my mortal arms

kiss your pouting lips~

~Hold you of one hundred yarns

hurling unto bliss~

~You rule my every thought of day

in paint my every dream~

~Shower me in sweet array

caress me with your gleam~

~You are my every longing of

my every heart’s desire~

~My one in only Goddess of love

within my soul of fire~

~I would climb the highest high

swim the deepest deep~

~Just to look into your eyes

in hold you in my keep~

~I would ride the wind of Hurricanes

cross of sea afire~

~Suffer one thousand times of pain

bathe in of Pariahs~

~Just to hold you of embrace

kiss your lips of wine~

~Brush the tender of your face

be of so divine~

I love you Julia, Will you Marry me?

She stands & begins to cry in happiness. She replies: Yes my Darling, I’ll Marry you! My Mother is crying too! She says: Harold, I never knew you were so poetic. I say: Mother I love you, can we have the wedding here? She replies: Of course you can son! Just like us, right Charles? Yes Dear he says! My Father shakes my hand, says: I’m proud of you Son & hugs Julia. Welcome to the Family Julia he says! The Butler brings in a Bottle of Armand de Brignac Ace of Spades Brut Gold Champagne. My Mother always had impeccable taste in wine. She had that in common with Grandma Nippy. It's already iced down, I think my Mother sensed I would propose tonight! The Butler pours each of us a glass, my Father; raises his Glass in a toast & says: May you be as Happy as we are! We raise our glasses back, & Mother adds: Here Here! I never seen my parents as happy as they are this night!

I married Julia Rae Marcantel 3 months later, on the grounds of Newport Mansion just like my Parents before me. Her parents flew in from Shreveport Louisiana & her Father, The Rev. James Ray Marcantel, walked her down the aisle. He & her Mother Rachael became close friends with my parents & remain so today! My siblings attended & were part of the Wedding. My sister Jamie drove in from Little Rock with her husband Bill, she was the “Maid of Honor”! My 2 Brothers Richard & Lewis flew in from Dallas. Richard is the oldest & was my “Best Man”. We're expecting our first child, a boy; in 6 months & we’ve never been happier. My parents are already buying out the Baby stores & Julia’s are in strong competition!

To be continued:

Duke Sherman

#newport

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