#don’t take risks when driving a two ton metal machine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tcshearts · 6 years ago

Text

Session 2, Chapter 4

Content Warning: Violence

“Approaching your position in one mile. Be ready.” I hear Dragon’s voice crackle through the communicator on my left wrist. I dodge out of the way of a Paladin’s shoulder-mounted turret and launch a wave of flame at their chest in retaliation.

“Ready. How’s the Paladin situation?” Chimera’s voice says through the communicator.

“Working on it.” Dragon replies.

The situation isn’t exactly ideal, two heavily armored enforcer vans and four Paladins, all guarding the large semi truck which holds our cargo. The back two Paladins are trying to hold us off, the front two are no doubt scanning for Chimera or Kitsune. I glance back at Dragon, who’s struggling to grab something from a bag slung between her wings.

“Going for the back right one. Cover my approach.” I say into my communicator before diving directly towards the metal titan. I can’t catch what Dragon says back to me over the sound of the wind. I feel something catch the wind behind me as Dragon circles around to my left, drawing some of the fire from the left Paladin. I use the brief few moments of cover to enter the Cinder State, feeling my body fall away to the surging wind. I continue my dive towards the Paladin at an increased speed and position myself inside their frame.

It’s difficult to keep myself in position at the speeds the Paladins are going. If I try to hang in one spot, I’ll just phase out of them, but if I keep flying with them, I can’t gather much fire. They probably planned for this to some extent after how I killed the last one.

I glance around the frame, it would be a tight squeeze, but I could theoretically fit without getting impaled on something inside of its mess of wires and metal. I’m terrified that something is going to pierce my armor, or that I’m just going to be flattened, but I have to try. I drop out of the Cinder State and feel my body impact the metal casing, hard.

Fuck me, I can barely move in here. This is a massive risk, and not one I can afford to take. I clench my fists and call fire to them as I expel shallow breaths. I need to stay as flat as possible. I channel the fire in my fists and press my head tight against the metal.

Fuck all of this. This whole fucking police state, the fact I have to do this to survive, the fact that almost everyone else died or gave up. Fuck Exodus for making us have to risk our necks this bad. Fuck my father for failing me!

I push on the metal frame and feel fire engulf the robot. As bits and pieces of it melt and burn away, I reignite my wings and take to the air the second I’m clear of the rubble. I can’t waste a second and snap my head to the left. Dragon is fighting a Paladin, trying to get around to their back. She slaps a metal box onto them, just as the thing turns its head all the way around and encases her right arm and the box in heavy carbon.

Fuck these things! They can turn their heads around now too? No! This thing is not taking Dragon! I’m not losing her on a job like this, on a fucking set-up mission for our most important job. We need her.

I need her.

I charge the Paladin when I see Dragon glance at me. She starts to say something, but I don’t hear it as I strike the Paladin in the head with my left foot. Sending a wave of flame out around its shoulder.

Pain. Searing pain is the only sensation that greets me immediately afterward. It’s hard to think, hard to move, and hard to stay airborne. I crash into the sand on the side of the road, pain still gripping my body hard. I hear something crash into the pavement a few feet from me. I try to look or get over to them, but it hurts too much to move even that small amount. I cough and let out a staggered breath.

Getting beaten by another spirit-touched is bad, getting beaten by a dumb machine is unforgivable. I’ve failed. I failed Dragon, I failed Chimera, I failed myself. I’m so fucking stupid. Maybe I should have just left after we killed Heatstroke. Maybe everyone would be better off that way. Goddammit. I shouldn’t call myself a hero.

“Phoenix!” a growling voice greets me as I feel a clawed hand grip me. I force my head to crane around and am greeted by Dragon, holding me tightly against her icy scales. Her hand is free of the carbon and the Paladin is laying in a crater in the concrete.

“H-how?” I ask.

“I had a plan. That device is an EMP, I didn’t plan to have my hand frozen to it, but that didn’t impact me a ton.”

“How did you get your hand free?”

“I finally finished that corrosive acid to counteract the carbon. It took a few seconds longer than I need it to, but it got me free. Sadly the EMP also killed my communicator, so I need yours.”

“By all means.”

Dragon grabs my wrist and I go limp against her chest as she speaks into it.

“Chimera, Kitsune, we lost ground, two Paladins down, but the cars got ahead of us. We’re going to catch up, but you’re going to need to start without us.” Dragon says into my wrist before turning back to me, cradling my head. “Are you okay? The Paladin got you pretty good, I can wait until you’re ready to move.”

This is embarrassing, humiliating actually. I’m supposed to be the experienced one, the one with a mastery of her powers, but I’m still a headstrong kid and Dragon is so much better at this than I am. I let out a staggered breath and touch the part of my back where the laser hit me. It stings like a bitch, but I can get past it.

“I’m fine.” I nearly whisper as I push myself off of Dragon to get up. I stumble slightly before igniting my wings. Before I take off, Dragon grabs my shoulder and I look back at her. We can’t waste time like this, but I want to, badly.

“Phoenix, it’s okay to be hurt. Anybody would be-”

“I’m fine! Let’s go!”

“Phoenix… please. I don’t want you to get hurt worse than you already are. I care about you.”

I stare into Dragon’s reptilian eyes, her intelligence, and humanity still clear beneath the draconic visage. How does she look beneath the scales? Beneath the cloak and mask? What’s her name? Why can’t I get these questions out of my head? I shake my head gently and look at her longingly.

“Come on. We have a job to do.”

Before she can respond I launch myself into the air and down the old sandy road. Dragon follows behind me pretty quickly, but I keep a comfortable distance between us. I would give anything to make this world like the one I grew up in. I want to have a life where I can be a normal teenager, where I can go home to my parents, where I can date a girl I like. This place is so fucked, and it’s going to kill me if I don’t kill it first.

I find the long stretch of road where Chimera and Kitsune are facing off with the two Paladins. Both of the trucks have crashed. One of them is totally overturned while the other has crashed into a small rock formation. The semi-truck sits abandoned in the middle of the road. The enforcers and truck driver lay all around the road, if they aren’t dead, they’re going to be soon.

This wasn’t the plan, Chimera shouldn’t be fighting, she should be trying to disconnect the cargo. Dammit, another thing that we fucked up because of my mistake. I growl under my breath and hit the pavement as fire washes around me. I slide into the back knee of one of the Paladins and send fire with my strike. It doesn’t do as much damage as I hoped, but I got their attention as I slide in front of them.

“Chi, Go.” I say, glancing back at her. She just gives me a nod in response before turning her full attention to the trailer on the back of the semi truck. Dragon lands between me and Kitsune and unleashes her breath at the Paladin Kitsune is fighting.

“How long until the autopilot kicks in?” Dragon asks Kitsune.

“The fuck should I know?” Kitsune says, not taking her eyes off the Paladin.

“When did you remove the driver?”

“I didn’t, your baby sister did. And she did it about thirty seconds ago, maybe 45.”

“Exact time would be better.”

“Yeah, well having our back up actually fucking here on time would be better too.”

“Fair point.” Dragon says “Chime-”

“Yeah, I heard, let me focus.” Chimera says, visibly straining at exerting her power to break the heavy bolts connecting the trailer to the truck.

The Paladins both have their attention fully on Chimera, which means we have to play defense. That’s not exactly an ideal position for me. One of them begins to charge their carbon as the other covers them with their own lasers. This situation is going to get a hell of a lot worse if Chimera gets frozen in carbon. Think Rachel, think.

The Paladin unleashes their Carbon directly at Chimera’s back. Before I can react, Kitsune throws her hand forward and Chimera loses footing, slipping forward and face planting on the asphalt. She glares back at Kitsune, her eyes glowing bright blue, Kitsune gives her a small shrug.

“Oh fuck off, little miss superhero, I saved your ass. Besides, now we’re even.” Kitsune says, blocking more laser fire with her fans.

“Dragon, I’m going to go for my Cinder State trick, be ready to pick up my slack.” I say to Dragon in a low voice, she nods as I let myself fade into the air again. I circle back behind one of the Paladins and begin to phase into it. The second I do I feel myself being repelled by some sort of internal air cannon. It sends me down and out the back of the robot and I struggle to gather myself and it feels like an active strain to come back to my solid form.

“Hey Dragon?” I say, flying overhead and returning to a defensive position.

“Yeah, I know. It repelled you. Some sort of Faraday cage or an internal shield?”

“Air cannon I think. I felt a ton of pressure driving me out of it. That wasn’t there before.”

“I know. I’ve been working on a theory. They have some form of mild reactive adaptation. It works slowly, and it’s probably not exactly right, but it’s the closest thing I have right now. I’d love to get my hands on a Paladin to examine it, bu-”

“Hey lovers.” Kitsune says, cutting dragon off. “Less talking, more defending.”

I hear an exasperated groan from Chimera, a laser strikes her in the back as she lifts the entire trailer off of the truck just before it’s autopilot engages and the cab drives away. Chimera turns toward us, her eyes glowing a fabulous bright blue as she throws the trailer at the two Paladins and glares at the three of us. The trailer crushes the Paladins easily, leaving only smashed bits of metal.

“Hey, Chimera, easy. We need what’s i-” Dragon starts.

“Shut up! I just ended this! Fuck! Do I have to do everything!” Chimera says, the light and bubbly tone she usually adopts totally fallen away.

“Chimera… Please…” Dragon says. Chimera drops to her knees, and her eyes drop their blue glow. Dragon goes to her side immediately. I didn’t notice Chimera had been using her power to lift various rocks and trees until I hear them crash down around me. I wonder if she had even been meaning to do that.

“I’m sorry…” Chimera says, getting to her feet with her sister’s help.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I let you get hurt.” Dragon says, keeping her arm around her.

“Kitsune.” I ask, trying to just ignore our awkward fight yesterday. “How did you know Chimera was the younger sister?”

“Please, I don’t need my power for that. I just watch things. Try it sometime, you might actually learn something.”

Dragon walks over to one of the empty armored trucks and sets Chimera down, letting her sit on the rear bumper. She gently touches Chimera’s wrist and removes her communicator, quickly attaching it to her own wrist. Our job isn’t done, we’re just starting phase two.

“Unicorn, you’re up.” Dragon says into the communicator. “Remember my warnings. There are probably guards inside, but they’ll be shaken up. You’re not invisible and those darts are going to hit you the second you become tangible.”

“Okay. I got it.” Unicorn answers back. I see a wispy green figure float towards the trailer and begin to fade into it. I almost can’t see her in the early morning sun. Almost. This is a hell of a way to begin my birthday. I was already up when I got the call at a little past five in the morning that we needed to intercept a truck. We were planning on doing it tonight, but they moved up their shipping schedule.

I’m nineteen, I would be out of school by now if I didn’t need a year off to recover from my injuries. Next year I’m supposed to enter the workforce. I’m going to be assigned a job or further schooling based on where I’m “best suited”. When I get assigned wherever I will be, maintaining this superhero gig is going to get a hell of a lot harder to pull off. I’ll probably have to make a choice between being Phoenix and being Rachel. What a great thought to have on my birthday.

“Hey, Red.” Kitsune says, her Cheshire grin growing incrementally.

“What?’ I grumble back.

“Aww come on. Still pissed at me for yesterday?”

“You mean when you got your ass kicked by Chimera and ran away like a little girl?”

“I was more talking about the part where you thought you could actually beat me and I showed you exactly how realistic that belief was.”

“Don’t push me, Kitsune.”

“Hey, Chimera got me fucking good, the girl’s powerful and she has my respect. I know when I’m beaten. You’d do well to learn the same.”

“That sounds a little defeatist of you.”

“Please, there’s a difference between being beaten and giving up. I will always choose to live to fight another day, but I will never give up on saving my people.”

I sigh and look at Kitsune, she’s leaning against the overturned truck, her foot against the top of the cab. She holds both her fans gently in her hands, waving herself idly with one. I take a brief glance over my shoulder at Dragon and Chimera. Dragon is still tending to her sister, though Chimera seems to have calmed down. Good, I could use the distraction. I need to have a private conversation.

“How long have you known?” I ask.

“Hm?” Kitsune says, perking an ear up slightly.

“My identity” My voice is barely above a mumble.

“Few months. No way the regime wasn’t going to know and I stumbled across a datapad with a list of hero identities and other basic info. Most of them were dead, but your name was the most interesting.”

“Do we know each other?”

“Oh, like I’d actually give you information that vital to me. I could be your best friend, or I could be nobody, and you’d be none the wiser. But, you know we go to the same school. I’ll tell you I’ve seen you one way or another. I can’t say I was expecting you to be Phoenix, but I can’t say I was surprised either.”

“And you were able to figure out Dragon and Chimera too?”

“Dragon yes. She made it far too easy. I figured that out before the regime did. Pretty proud of that actually. I just had to look for the secluded girls with good grades and no friends and eliminate everyone who wasn’t a junior or senior, find out which of them had nearly flawless marks in science and math, then it was just a matter of matching up attendance records to days that y’all have done jobs. Honestly, I’m surprised Dragon would be so clumsy. You do a much better job of hiding it at least. Your teachers all comment on your wonderful demeanor and studious behavior. You also manage to cover your absences pretty well. If I were Dragon I would take a couple random days off school or intentionally get a B+ on a quiz or something, just to throw off anyone who would come looking for me. But, I don’t think she could live with herself if she got anything less than perfect marks.”

I scan my brain for any possibilities that immediately come to mind. A few girls I have class with get near perfect grades and are excellent math and science students, but I can’t see any of them being Dragon. I want to ask Kitsune, I so badly want to ask her, maybe even beg her, to just give me a first name to go on. I just want to see under the mask, maybe even want to let her see under my mask.

I only realize my gaze has shifted over to Dragon when I feel my head snap awkwardly, violently, and involuntarily towards Kitsune. She snaps her fingers to get my attention, her Cheshire grin down in a slight grimace.

“Hey!” she says, rolling her beady eyes as I acknowledge her. “Remember what I said yesterday, it’s better for all of us the fewer people who know our identities. Stop fantasizing about Dragon underneath the scales, I wasn’t done.”

“I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

“As I said, Dragon was easy. Chimera was harder, I didn’t consider something that, in retrospect, was obvious. I honestly didn’t figure it out until I knew she was Dragon’s sister, but fuck does it ever make so much sense. I’m curious, while we’re waiting for Goody-goody, humor me.”

“Fine. Nothing better to do right now.”

“Exactly. So, tell me Phoenix, how would you go about discerning who Chimera is?”

“Honestly, based on the way you did it, I’d figure out who Dragon is first an-”

“No no no. Ignore the sister bit, start fresh. You’re looking for Chimera. No idea who she’s related to. What do you do?”

I look at Chimera, her sleek blue costume is reflecting the sunlight beautifully, showing her gorgeous figure in the skin-tight body glove. Her golden curly hair and blue eyes are the only physical features I can see with absolute certainty. Then again, this is transcendence we’re talking about, she could have red hair and green eyes in real life and I’d be none the wiser. How would I go about figuring out who she is?

“Enhanced aspect.” I blurt out, almost without meaning to.

“Go on.” Kitsune says, giving a small nod of approval.

“Serenity. She’s someone who meditates maybe, or does yoga.”

“Close. Meditation is something she does while transcended to talk to dead superheroes. So it must be pretty lackluster as a mundane.”

I furrow my brow and think for a second.

“Reading?”

“Warmer.”

“Hiking. She likes the woods, she likes being alone. She probably goes out into the wilderness to escape from the pressures of school and being Chimera.”

“You’re on fire.” I groan at the pun. “So, you know she likes the outdoors, tons of students go hiking every weekend, narrow it down.”

Let’s see, Chimera is… Well fuck, I don’t know what else to go on. All I really even know about her is that serenity is her enhanced aspect. Come on! Think! Okay, okay, she’s a hero. She’s way into being a superhero and like a “classic” superhero.

“Military family?” I ask.

“No, but I see how you’d get there. A more abstract sense of duty.”

“Comic fan?”

“Yes, to an extent, but not enough it dominates her mind.”

“Then I don’t know…”

“Self-sacrifice. She doesn’t feel her life matters, so she dedicates it to others. There’s a reason she’s willing to jump in front of a fireball for someone she doesn’t know. She’s more than willing to lay down her life for someone else, because to her their lives matter, hers doesn’t.”

“Fuck” I mumble, not meaning to say it out loud.

“Yup. The girl has issues, but I’m pretty sure we all do. Come on, one more and you should have a pretty good profile of who Chimera is.”

“Can I have a hint?”

“Her transcended form.”

Okay, transcended form. She’s a classic superhero, a hot girl with a cape, a cowl, and a body glove. She has bright red lips, deep blue eyes, and long blonde hair. The classic beauty standard for most white women. Her figure is toned, but slim, her muscle mass doesn’t nearly represent her strength. She’s actually shorter and slimmer than Kitsune or I, despite “superheroes” typically being bigger and more muscular, or bustier in the case of female heroes.

“Body image issues. Like an eating disorder maybe?” I say, Kitsune’s grin nearly doubles in size.

“Damn fucking close,” Kitsune says, standing up straighter. “I’m not getting you all the way there, that’s for you to figure out if you so desire, but you are close Phoenix. Way closer than I thought you’d be.”

“Alright, maybe I’ll take a crack at figuring out who you are later.”

“You’d never figure it out. I have fail-safes built in and a ton of red herrings. The whole point is gaining as many secrets as I can without giving any of mine up. I doubt even Oracle could figure it out. I know she hasn’t yet.”

Kitsune decidedly sends me the message this is the end of our conversation by heading over towards Dragon and Chimera. I follow behind and stand next to Dragon as Kitsune settles opposite the three of us.

“How’s she doing?” I ask.

“Not great. There’s a stalemate. She’s pinned down, so she can’t go solid and open the trailer, but the guards can’t hit her. It’s a waiting game right now.” Dragon says, looking at her communicator, the one she took from Chimera.

“Should I go assist?”

“No.” Chimera answers before Dragon can. “This is her first mission, we don’t want to fuck up her confidence. We only send in calvary if it’s absolutely necessary. If she gets a crucial role in a big job, there’s a solid chance she’ll flourish. It’s what happened for me on my first mission with you girls.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t put training wheels on you. You just knew how to use your powers.”

“Look, I’m just saying it’s important we let her try when it isn’t life or death. That way, when it is life or death, we know we can rely on her.”

“That’s actually pretty smart Chimera.”

“I have my moments.”

“Dragon? You think she can do it.”

“Honestly, no.” she says with a shrug. “But I’m willing to be proven wrong. Why? Sad you didn’t get a crack at it?”

“I’m more bored than anything. Are we just waiting for them to run out of darts?”

“Well, actually ye-”

“Help.” Sarah’s voice comes crackling through our communicators. Her voice is pinched and short, she’s panicking. Fuck.

“Phoenix. Go!” Dragon orders, but by the time she starts telling me I’m already in The Cinder State.

So much for an easy job.

1 note · View note

wiersema1 · 6 years ago

Text

Summer 2018 Travelblog

When I was a kid our parents took us on a driving trip every summer for two to three weeks. Mom and Dad looked forward to it immensely. Dad saved all his money from his middle-class salary from Kemper Insurance, and saved up all his sick days and vacation days earned throughout the calendar year and blew them all on our annual trip. He loved the freedom, the driving on the open road through our nation’s interstate system. He wanted to see the world, have some nice expensive dinners, and visit America. He also dug jamming that trunk with all the suitcases, just making it barely fit each and every day. Dad also loved pounding martinis the minute we checked into the hotel. Who could blame him? Having to listen to me talk all day in a small car? Good grief.

So now I continue the Wiersema family tradition by taking our family on the same vacations (more or less). However, I’m not a martini guy. I’m a beer guy and we have a Honda Odyssey van rather than a two-door Buick Regal. Anyways, the luggage fits nicely rather than snugly (vans > two-door cars) but the arguing and fighting increases with each and every bozo driver that doesn’t have their headlights on in the dark. I know! Another difference is the texting and driving has become so rampant that it’s a modern epidemic. Black plague anyone? No thank you, I’ll have some texting and driving instead…… something needs to be done. (*PS This sounds like a future rant column.)

This year we drove from our home in Mundelein, Illinois to Boston, Massachusetts by way of Toronto, Ontario, Canada. We also stopped at Niagara Falls and Cooperstown, New York as well as several other stops. Here’s a rundown of our trip(s) along with photos.

2014 : Texas; via Route 66

2015 : St. Louis and Hannibal, Missouri; via the Mississippi River Valley

2016 : Upper Peninsula Michigan; we drove all the way around Lake Michigan

2017 : Tennessee & the Smoky Mountains

2018 : Toronto, Niagara Falls, Boston, & Cooperstown

Day 1 (Friday, July 6, 2018) : Mundelein, IL > Sarnia, Ontario, Canada

The first day of a driving trip is always very exciting. You rush around packing the car and making sure nobody forgets anything. “Do we have the contact solution, the sunglasses, the hats, the pillows, my extra pair of underpants?” Once you get rolling, the excitement settles into a dull, melodic rhythm of “Are we there yet?” noises heard from the backseat. Then you realize it’s already time to get out the extra underpants. The first day is always a long drive. This year we ended up just over the Canadian border. Deborah (my beautiful wife) booked us a hotel in Sarnia. We went out to eat at a restaurant on the water called Stoke’s Bay Grill & Bar. It was really Canadian right away. I loved it! CFL (Canadian Football League) was on the TV’s, some weird items on the menu like fried clams (I just totally invented that, like a fiction writer would do), and a really friendly waiter who loved hockey and the Toronto MapleLeaves (inside joke) and Chicago Blackhawks. Then confusion! He asked us a really strange question. Oh no! Cultural differences. How will we ever survive? When we asked for the bill, he replied with “You need the machine?” While my wife stared at him, my mind wandered into “Rage Against the Machine” territory. As I was jamming out in my brain to some hard-core metal, my wife politely asked, “Wait, what?” He exclaimed that if we were going to use a credit card that we would need to scan our card on a credit card machine at our table. Oh, right! We told him we don’t do that in America. Rather, we give the card to them so that they can steal our credit card number behind our backs. No worries. We were full-fledged Canadians on our first night. I dug it the most!

Natalie and Dad at Amsterdam BrewHouse on Lake Ontario in Toronto.

Day 2 (Saturday, July 7) : Sarnia, Ontario, Canada > Toronto, Ontario, Canada

The second day of a trip is really exciting too, except you start running into little problems getting adjusted. For instance, you have four people in one hotel room trying to use one bathroom and one shower. So while you’re trying to get your body adjusted to sitting in a car, sometimes all day, you also have to deal with everybody’s unique sleep schedule. As most of you know, I’m a late riser. This can cause problems. Oh well, I’m in charge as the man of the house, er the hotel room, right? Right guys? Is anybody listening? Sometimes I get the feeling that everybody is talking but nobody is really listening. Do I need to repeat it?

Hotel rooms……. they inspire kids to goof around. This is the Residence Inn in downtown Toronto.

Anyway, we drove from Sarnia to Toronto. We stayed at the Residence Inn by Marriott in downtown Toronto. It was pretty sweet! The only problems we had were minor. A strange skater dude skateboarded into our van at an intersection as we waited for pedestrians to cross. The weird part was he seemed to infer that it was our fault. It was confusing. I was kind of mad and then lost it with just a tinge of road rage, but don’t tell anyone. The guy skated into our van, then threw me double fingers (I think.) It was all very confusing because it was a Saturday around 4 pm and there were a ton of people on the streets. Our kids are screwing around in the back seat and I’m driving this monster soccer-mom van. Then boom! So I looked in the rearview and saw this guy giving me double “buzz-off” signs. I’m ready to get out of the car but luckily he zoomed off into the abyss. I was ready to fight…..and I would’ve won let me tell ya.

Casa Loma

The first thing we saw in Toronto was a mansion called Casa Loma. It was pretty cool. The place is gigantic and there were a ton of visitors. It’s not as big as Biltmore in Asheville, North Carolina but it’s similar. Many movies have been filmed in the rooms of Casa Loma including “Cocktail”, “Extreme Measures”, and “Maximum Risk”.

Moving on, we loved Toronto! We went out to eat at Amsterdam BrewHouse on the shores of Lake Ontario. It was awesome. Great food, atmosphere, and beer. I would highly recommend Amsterdam to anyone in Toronto. If I lived near this place, I’d be there nearly everyday.

Does this look like a princess that needs a knight in shining armor?

My beautiful wife and I at the top of the castle at Casa Loma in Toronto. Good thing I saved her from the evil lair where she was being held against her will, a la “Sleeping Beauty”. To borrow a phrase from Chipper Jones, “Deborah is the queen of my castle.”

Day 3 (Sunday, July 8) : Toronto

My son and I went to Rogers Centre, formerly known as SkyDome, for a Blue Jays game. The New York Yankees were in town and it was a Sunday afternoon ballgame. The weather was fantastic.

Trev and I hung out by the Blue Jays bullpen before the game so that we could cheer on Mundelein’s own Ryan Borucki, who made his 3rd career start for the Blue Jays.

As luck would have it, the first big-leaguer from our hometown high school (Mundelein High School) was scheduled to start for the Blue Jays. His name is Ryan Borucki and he made his 3rd career start. He pitched fantastic but unfortunately he didn’t bag his first major league win because Toronto’s offense couldn’t support him…… “No sticks man”.

After seven excellent innings allowing only one run, he left the game at the 7th inning stretch. The Jays had men on in the bottom of the 7th but couldn’t push it across so Borucki was saddled with another no-decision, leaving a 1-1 game that the Yankees eventually won in extras, 2-1 in 10 innings. Nonetheless, it was an amazing stadium and beautiful day for a ballgame. I highly recommend SkyDome!

Toronto’s CN Tower right next to SkyDome on a beautiful Sunday afternoon at the ol’ ballyard.

Day 4 (Monday, July 9) : Toronto > Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada

Trev and I went to the Hockey Hall of Fame! It was awesome, even better than I imagined. It’s an underrated Hall. It’s very interactive which is great for kids of all ages. Trev loved playing video games (EA Sports NHL ’18) and shooting pucks with a real-life stick at a video board goalie. He beat me. Boo for Dad.

Trev next to a cool Chris Chelios’ Chicago Blackhawks jersey. Sweet action bro!

The greatest part of the Hockey Hall was definitely the collection of famous trophies including the Stanley Cup, the Conn Smythe Trophy, the Hart Trophy, the Vezina Trophy, and the Art Ross Trophy. They have a vault where they store the original Stanley Cup which is obviously irreplaceable. Wow, the history in this Hall was incredible. A special place for all hockey fans. Go there!

This is the “Original” Stanley Cup Championship Trophy. Since it is irreplaceable, the Hockey Hall of Fame locks it up in a vault. I know…….. really awesome!

Trev beat me with 2 goals to my one. Way to go T-Magic!

Possibly my favorite trophy in sports is the Conn Smythe Trophy awarded to the NHL’s Playoff MVP. It’s just so cool, right? The design has the old Maple Leaf Gardens mounted on top of a base with silver maple leafs where they engrave the winner’s name. Way, way outstanding. I especially love the Blackhawks triumvirate of Jonathan Toews (2010), Patrick Kane (’13), and Duncan Keith (’15). This version on display is Sidney Crosby’s 2017 Trophy. Alex Ovechkin just won it in June for the 2018 edition. Overall, it’s a fantastic Trophy Room which really is the highlight of the Hockey Hall of Fame.

After the Hockey Hall we were on our way to Niagara Falls. What can we say about this fantastic part of God’s creation? I’m speechless, which is hard for me. We went on the boat ride which was more than amazing. Great memories for our family. Let’s let the pictures do the talking.

Day 5 (Tuesday, July 10) : Niagara Falls > Lake Placid, NY, U.S.A

Who loves a sports town with a Hall of Fame? I do! I do! Sign me up! Lake Placid is a hidden gem of a town in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. Lake Placid is the site of two Winter Olympic Games, 1932 and 1980. In case you forgot, the 1980 Winter Olympics is one of the most famous Olympics ever because of the miraculous upset of the Soviet Union’s men’s hockey team, consisted mostly of professional players, by the teenage and college kids that made up the United States men’s team. It’s known as the “Miracle on Ice”. There’s even a movie called “Miracle” which I can’t believe I haven’t seen yet. I know. What am I waiting for? Nothing. Sign me up for that too.

Day 6 (Wednesday, July 11) : Lake Placid, NY > White River Junction, Vermont

On Wednesday we left Lake Placid and drove to Vermont. We stopped and saw Fort Ticonderoga in upstate New York in the afternoon. Fort Ticonderoga has a unique history, having been a part of several wars while being in possession of many different countries. There’s some cool things to check out, especially for people who like learning about different types of cannons and guns. Trev really enjoyed it. Check him out pretending to shoot the cannon! He loves this stuff. They also have some excellent monuments to fallen heroes of yesteryear.

Day 7 (Thursday, July 12) : White River Junction, VT > Boston, Massachusetts

On Thursday we left Vermont and headed further east to our final destination, Boston Massachusetts. What a city! Boston is really cool. If it wasn’t for all the people, I’d love living there. Haha! We stayed at a Homewood Suites in Needham, MA which is a suburb of Boston. It was a new hotel and our suite had two rooms and a kitchen which was nice for us so that we could make ourselves at home. We were nervous about our decision to stay outside of downtown because we knew that we’d need to drive into the busy downtown bustle all three days and we had heard about the awful Boston traffic. Truth was, the traffic wasn’t bad at all. At least not nearly as bad as Chicago and the Chicago suburbs. Boston was a breeze compared to what we’ve been living with for decades.

On this first day in Boston, we drove to Lexington and Concord. This is where the Revolutionary War started in 1775. In a way, this was a microcosm of what our trip was all about. We wanted to learn and teach our kids about the important history of the United States of America. How did it start? What happened? What were the important events? Where did they happen and who made them happen? As we learned, it all started in Boston and the surrounding areas. Lexington and Concord does a great job with their bus tours. They had a narrator on the tour bus that explained it all and told interesting stories. Then we would get off the bus and view the sacred grounds of these events. It was fascinating. I had been on the same trip, more or less, in the 1980s and I still remembered many things. The Minuteman statue? I recall standing there 30 years ago. The Boston Tea Party, Paul Revere, Bunker Hill, etc. I remembered most of it. It’s amazing what the brain can recall.

The Minuteman Statue in Lexington, MA.

The lobby in the Homewood Suites in Needham, MA.

Day 8 (Friday, July 13) : Boston

Adversity struck on Friday the 13th. The plan was to go downtown and get on another tour bus that would drive us around all the main sites along the Freedom Trail. We had paid about $120 for four tickets. You’re supposed to be able to hop on and off the bus all day. The problem was the tour bus was always too crowded to board. There were no empty seats on any of the buses all day long! We actually never got on a bus. It was ridiculous. Needless to say, we were all hot, tired, and exhausted after walking everywhere instead of riding. We even took a few cabs but it was disastrous in a sense. On the other hand, it was awesome anyway. Don’t worry, we ended up getting a refund. Surprisingly, we even received a personalized letter from the CEO of the bus company too, apologizing for their mistakes and our trouble. He included free passes for any bus another time. They are set up in several American cities. Not bad.

Despite the change of plans, we saw several amazing places: the Mapparium, Old North Church, Faneuil Hall, Paul Revere’s house, the Swan Boats in Boston Common, and Cheers! We even sat at the famous bench where Robin Williams counsels Matt Damon in “Good Will Hunting”. It was spectacular. A great day filled with sweat, ice cream, history, and an annoying old man who told me to take my hat off in Old North Church…..”Son, remove your hat. This is a church for Godsakes!” I’m kidding about the “Godsakes” part but the rest is a true story. I quickly removed my hat thinking I was a bad person. Then I looked around at about a dozen others wearing hats of all sorts. Hey old man, this one’s for you. Buzz off!

The famous park bench where Robin Williams counsels Matt Damon in “Good Will Hunting”. Look up the scene if you don’t remember. In this case, I guess I’m Robin’s character Sean the counselor and Trev is the rascally obnoxious smart kid who needs therapy, otherwise known as Will Hunting. Sounds about right.

At the top is the Old State House, near the spot of the Boston Massacre. The bottom two were taken at the Old North Church. Natalie did a great job posing as a worshiper a la Teddy Roosevelt.

Day 9 (Saturday, July 14) : Boston

I finally saw Fenway Park. All these years I’ve wanted to go there to see the Red Sox and their historic park. This was a definite “bucket list” item for me. The ballpark, and the game, didn’t disappoint. I absolutely loved it. Fenway Park is now #1 on my list of favorite ballparks I’ve attended a game at in person. It ousts my previous #1 Giants Park/AT&T Park/SBC Park/Pac-Bell Park in San Francisco. We went to San Fran in 2001 so that ranking held for 17 years! Sorry San Fran, you’ve fallen to #2. Beautiful weather, a spectacular crowd with friendly BoSox fans, the hot dogs!, and a finish unrivaled in my entire 100+ baseball games I’ve ever seen! That’s right. How do you see the best game ever? When it goes extra innings and the home team wins on a walk off grand slam!!! Xander Bogaerts hit it just barely over the Center Field wall to earn the victory. What a day! Unforgettable.

Look at this goofball out on Jersey Street (used to be called “Yawkey Way”). Also, check out the man on stilts!

We met great BoSox fans. Check out this woman who’s clapping behind Deb. She worshiped J.D. Martinez. She always shouted in a thick Boston accent, “Hey J.D., you can have my lucky charms any time.” Therefore, we’ve nicknamed J.D. “Lucky Charms” henceforth.

Trev wanted a “Green Mawnstah” shirt so we bought him one and then took a pic in front of the Green Monster.

Panoramic shot of the view from our seats. I actually loved the obstructed view because it reminded me of Old Comiskey Park. I’ve never been in a stadium that felt close to Old Comiskey at all until Fenway. This stadium is easily the best ballpark I’ve ever seen. It’s not even that close.

Day 10 (Sunday, July 15) : Boston

Because of the disastrous trolley situation on Friday, we decided to try it again on Sunday except with a different trolley bus company. It turned out well. This time we were able to hop on and off the trolley all day. We saw most of the Freedom Trail, especially the parts we hadn’t already seen on Friday. On this day, we saw Bunker Hill, “Old Ironsides” (the U.S.S. Constitution), the Tea Party Museum, Boston’s “Little Italy” neighborhood, Harvard, and MIT.

The kids with Sam Adams while drinking…..Sam Adams. What! Above that is a pic of them dumping tea into Boston Harbor. I remember doing this over 30 years ago! The museum is better now but the dumping of the tea remains the same.

My beautiful daughter Natalie and me while I strangely hold a lemonade cup.

This photo summarizes our family well: Mom & Dad are happy and fun and not afraid to get goofy. Trev is a hot dog. Natalie remains calm and wonders what our problem is. Above this is the Lampoon Castle Building at Harvard. Many famous writers including George Plimpton, John Updike, Doug Kenney, and Conan O’Brien have worked here since the inception of the comedic Harvard Lampoon publication was founded in 1876. (I saw a feature story on 60 Minutes recently.) Above that are a couple of photos of the Bunker Hill Monument.

Day 11 (Monday, July 16) : Boston, MA > Warwick, Rhode Island

On our way out of Boston, we hit Plymouth Rock and drove out on Cape Cod. We created a song that the whole family enjoyed immensely (Must be sung with a Boston accent, i.e. “Cape Cawd”): “Cape Cape Cod, together we will see, Cape Cape Cod, fun for you and me, Cape Cape Cod, surrounded by the sea, Cape Cape Cod, lobsters we will eat”. Sometimes these little things become great memories. A super fun family day that ended with mini-golf and then dinner at the “Lobster Boat”. Yeah you guessed it….one must pronounce it with a Boston accent, i.e. “Lawbstuh Boat”.

Day 12 (Tuesday, July 17) : Warwick, RI > Cooperstown, New York

Driving from Warwick, Rhode Island to Cooperstown, New York was outstanding. The scenery was breath-taking. It’s kind of like going back in time to a world long since left behind. It’s all small country roads to get to the National Baseball Hall of Fame. It’s quite an experience just getting there. And then when you do……wow. We did almost the exact same drive thirty years ago and it was memorable. It remained so three decades later.

Day 13 (Wednesday, July 18) : Cooperstown, NY

Is there anything more fun in the world than going into a sports Hall of Fame? I think not. The Baseball Hall was easily the greatest Hall of Fame I’ve ever seen. Did it seem familiar to what I remembered as a 10-year-old boy? No, not really. Not at all. Memories from thirty-three years ago can be hazy. This is one of them. I’m actually shocked that I have little memory of the Hall. I think my dad was in a hurry to get out-of-town that day. I don’t know for sure. I remember the Babe Ruth statue. I remember a gift shop that I was rushed to make decisions. As a kid I got a “I (heart) baseball” button, a mini pennant, and a mini wood baseball bat. That’s all. I always regretted that. This time, I left no room for regrets.

I went crazy! I spent everything my wife had on pennants, banners, a Chipper Jones HOF jersey, a snow globe (I started a small collection a couple of years ago), magazines, two t-shirts, etc. My wife says I can’t buy anything for a long time. That’s fine. I agree. I’m not sure I’ve had more fun in years!

As for the Hall itself, it is outstanding. There is so much to look at you would need to go back several times just to get a full view of everything. If you wanted to study a particular era, you could spend hours doing just that.

Since we were there about a week before the 2018 Inductions, there were displays of all the new inductees. That made it very special for me because I love this year’s class. The six inductees this year were Jack Morris, Alan Trammell, Trevor Hoffman, Jim Thome, Vladimir Guerrero, and Chipper Jones. You could argue that Thome, Vlad, and Chipper are three of my all-time favorite players. For sure, Vlad and Chipper are two of my faves while Chipper is definitely in my top five favorite players ever along with Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio, Lenny Dykstra, Frank Thomas, and Ichiro. Well, that’s six. OK. Let’s throw in Pedro Martinez, Mark Buehrle, Mike Trout, and Bryce Harper for our Top Ten.

At the end of our big day in Cooperstown, we headed over to the famous Otesaga Resort Hotel on Otsego Lake. It is truly magnificent. All the Hall of Famers hang out here on Induction Weekend each and every year. I can see why they like it. You can sit on the veranda in a rocking chair and take in the beautiful sights of God’s green Earth. Peace abounds. We ate on the porch and heard some stories from the waiter. He said Frank Thomas is one of the nicest guys and best tippers he’s met in his couple years working there. Next time I visit Cooperstown I plan on staying at the Otesaga. It is truly a special place.

Day 14 (Thursday, July 19) : Cooperstown, NY > Elyria, Ohio

Two weeks in a car and hotels can really get you thinking. During this year’s trip, I had plenty of time to reminisce, think about life, and best of all hang out with my family. I am beyond blessed. God has shown his grace and mercy to me in abundance. I shall never forget this year’s vacation. The memories are endless. I shall remember our experiences in Toronto, Niagara Falls, Lake Placid, Boston, Cape Cod, and Cooperstown with great joy and humility. A fantastic vacation that I would obviously highly recommend.

Day 15 (Friday, July 20) : Elyria, OH > Wiersema’s Maplewood Estate, Mundelein, IL

After another super long day of driving, we made it back home to Maplewood. Thank God we made it home safely. It was a magnificent trip that we’ll all remember forever. Two weeks of driving, eating, drinking beers, seeing Halls of Fame, going to baseball games, visiting historic National Parks including America’s Freedom Trail…..it doesn’t get much better. An outstanding trip.

Next year…….Yellowstone Park, Mount Rushmore, the Badlands, Montana, Wyoming, the Rocky Mountains, and Custer’s National Monument, site of Custer’s Last Stand. I already can’t wait! Pack the car. Let’s go right now. Why wait for 2019? Oh yeah, we better save up the money and the vacation days. Get your tour books, your cowboy boots, and your National Park Passport books ready. July ’19 is right around the corner!

Summer 2018 Travelblog Summer 2018 Travelblog When I was a kid our parents took us on a driving trip every summer for two to three weeks.

2 notes · View notes

milkmoneyzine · 4 years ago

Text

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" #3

#Follow4FollowMyGuy asks: As an artist in uncertain times, how can I keep promoting my music from quarantine?

M$: The first thing you need to do is find some compromising evidence on a friend that runs a website. Then you blackmail them into letting you write a pointless Advice Column that no one actually cares about. That’s the most important place to start.

Once you’ve got that secured, and the money from the blog is flowing endlessly into your account, then you just hustle. Hustling is a lost art these days. There are so many online outlets, and so many different social media platforms that it can get overwhelming pretty quickly. The key is to not let that happen. Focus on one or two at a time. Get weird on Twitter and sneak in some links. Ask for questions on your Instagram story, then find a way to relate your answers to songs you can post. Dive into the hellscape that is Reddit and find a thread that your music fits with, and drop a link. Not all of this is going to work, but it’s worth a shot.

The other important thing to remember is that you don’t have to promote a specific song, or an album, or a video. Just interact with people. Everyone else is online all the time, so just be visible, be friendly, and be accessible. As long as you’re doing something online, no one is going to forget about you.

Maybe don’t use the band page to drop heart eyes on thirst trap photos. Slide into those DM’s from your own account, you know? The last thing you want is the fucking bass player seeing their reply first and stealing your thunder. But then again, all is fair in love and hardrock.

Dan Price asks: Can I have your milk money?

M$:

@FiendingForMosh asks: When are shows coming back?

M$: The real answer is that no one knows. Probably sooner than you think, which is also probably too soon. It’s kind of a lose/lose situation.

Live music is in a weird spot. To go from “Everyone needs to practice social distancing until we can get a handle on this extremely contagious thing” to “Well, it’s not contained, and we don’t have a vaccine, but fuck it. Go ahead and pack as many people as you can into a tiny, poorly ventilated space and let them all slam into each other” in the span of a couple of weeks seems insane.

There are some medical experts that say live shows shouldn’t start again until 2021. That’s not going to happen. That can’t happen. Every place that relies on a steady stream of smaller touring acts and local shows—which is almost all of them—will close if that’s the case. No one wants that. Venues need to make money and bands need to make money. The only way to do that is with shows.

What’s going to be really interesting is seeing who takes the risk. Some bands are going to hit the road two days after “shelter in place” ends. There will be venues ready to host the shows, and people dying to see them—no matter who that band is. The very idea of getting back out in public and seeing their friends is going to be enough for a lot of people. Those bands are probably going to do pretty well, and play for a lot of grateful people every night.

Then there are going to be other bands that take the whole rest of the year off. To them, the juice won’t be worth the squeeze. They’ll stay home, write new songs, make a new record, and continue to wait it out. The bands that take this route are probably the bands that are a little more established, and have other sources of income. Some bands can afford not to tour. Others can’t.

There are also going to be a lot of people who just don’t trust anyone in a large crowd for a while.

“I’d love to see that band. But there’s no way in hell I’m going to stand in the dark while a drunk, sweaty guy—still wearing a heavy denim jacket in fucking July for some reason—brushes his damp hair across my face as he tries to squeeze through an already tiny space.”

It’s weird, it’s scary, and it’s pretty unprecedented. But it is going to be okay. Live music will always be something that people enjoy, and there will always be someone who figures out how to make the most of it. Things aren’t going back to normal anytime soon, but maybe that’s a good thing. It gives everyone a chance to decide what the new normal is.

There is one upside that could come from this, and one that Milk Money wholeheartedly supports: Maybe venues/bars/clubs will actually keep their bathrooms clean, stocked, and operational.

Ahhh, who are we kidding? No one is going to learn anything from the last five weeks.

XtestpressX asks: Who are M$’s favorite current #SLCHC bands?

M$:

M$ PRESENTS THE #SLCHC2020LOVE THE MIXTAPE: 1. Victim To None - Sacred 2. Devoid - Another Life Wasted 3. Ape $hit - Pretty Neat ft. Dea Giokas 4. Degeneration XXX - Bitter End 5. Dirty Mike - Angel (Prod. by Teemane) 6. Zodiac Killer - Serpent's Tongue 7. Crow Killer - Close Grip 8. Witchtrial - Burn 9. Absent - Dimmed Love 10. Tamerlane - Absense

Run tha trak!

Milk Money Mixtapes

M$ presents #SLCHC2020LOVE The Mixtape

@StatuteOfLimitations asks: What is your wildest tour story? Dan$: As all of Milk Money will attest, my memory is not the hottest. But I’ve been blessed with a metric shit-ton of sketchy/amazing tour experiences, so here’s a montage of pretty true events... - Coming up with the idea for Milk Money with Trevor on west coast Cherem runs.

- Roger Miret teaching me his prison workout regimen in an old church in Switzerland.

- Watching Madball and Obituary festival sets in Turino, Italy from the fancy comfort of an above-ground pool.

- Breaking up fights between American soldiers and German hardcore kids.

- Breaking up fights between American soldiers and Japanese hardcore kids.

- Getting into fights with American soldiers in foreign lands.

- The time Lord Ezec asked me if I wanted to smoke some crack with him.

- The time the moon crashed into Idaho.

- Hiding outside the backstage tent of symphonic metal cover band Apocalyptica in a giant mud puddle during a Czech Republic downpour with Vinnie Stigma, waiting for them to take the stage, so we could sneak in and steal coffee from their espresso machine.

- Taking Matt Mascarenas to the beach for the first time in his life.

- Fuck Nick Cannon. - Watching an aggro road-rager freak and back down a steep-ass, 500-foot grassy slope into a cow pasture after he pulled us over to fight. - The Lightkeeper’s Trail (What's good, Countdown to Life/Broadway Calls?!?!?!) - Watching Sparky from Demented Are Go bite the head straight off a dead rat, pound a bottle of vodka, and say, “That’ll clean it up.” - Chasing a not-be-identified drummer from brothel to brothel in Graz, Austria to watch him dance with girls for a few seconds before running to the next brothel… just to make sure he didn’t get left behind by the bus.

- Not joining Hatebreed in a backstage jacuzzi full of actual erotic dancers. - 30 Seconds to Mars telling us we were “pretty heavy” when we shared a venue in Minneapolis. - Moshing in a Drum’n’Bass tent at a Euro festival with a not-to-be-identified NYHC band who were skying way high on ecstasy. = Learning so many important lessons the hard way while making all of my closest friends cuz… hardcore. Trevor$: I don’t have nearly as many globe-trotting adventures as Dan, but some of my favorite moments with my friends happened on tour. - Spending two full days at a Fazoli’s (the only kind-of vegan option in the city) in Grand Island, Nebraska on our first tour because the transmission went out 13 hours after we bought the van. - Directions to a venue that were “Turn left at the women’s prison, and drive to the end of the road. It’s in the junkyard.” Once inside the junkyard, getting the instructions “Stay away from the fences. That’s where the ladies have ‘yard time’ and the guards in the tower get really angry when we talk to them.” - Air guitar and autographs with a drunk guy named “Deth” in Tijuana. - Almost having to fight a promoter in New Mexico because he accused us of stealing a microphone, only to find out ten minutes after leaving that Bill accidentally put it in the pocket of his cargo shorts and forgot. - Swimming too far out in the Florida ocean and getting stopped by the beach patrol just before the shelf drops off and all the bull sharks hang out. - Going on tour without confirming anything, then having to beg every promoter to let us play when we showed up. - Trying to pretend there wasn’t a fight happening in the crowd until Jake pushed his drums out of the way to jump in at every single out-of-state show Tamerlane ever played. So what we're saying here is, once this plague blows off, GET IN THE FUCKIN VAN CUZ LIFE IS SHORT AND YOU SHOULD LIVE IT!

Until next time, this is Milk Money saying, “Tamerlane is not the Five Finger Death Punch of Salt Lake Hardcore."

0 notes

wineanddinosaur · 5 years ago

Text

13 Things You Need to Know About Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon

Product provenance is one of the most important things in food and drink right now. Much to its credit, Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon arrived on the scene well before we all became obsessed with place sourcing. In fact, Blanton’s effectively put “single barrel” on the map, insisting on hyper-craft bourbon at a time — in 1984 — when our drinks repertoire included lots of blue stuff and too much White Zinfandel.

In honor of learning from our mistakes, here are 13 things you need to know about Blanton’s.

It was the world’s first “single-barrel” bourbon.

Just like Velveeta Shells & Cheese, “single-barrel” bourbon wasn’t a thing before 1984 (so we have no idea how anyone had a decent weekend). But among the many generous acts of Elmer T. Lee’s career at Buffalo Trace was this final parting gift — the creation of a super-premium bourbon category, i.e., bourbon taken from one barrel and bottled as is. Not only did Lee revive the bourbon industry, he created a lasting category that almost every major bourbon producer answers to with a bottle of its own.

It’s a “high-rye” bourbon.

Blanton’s is distilled by Buffalo Trace in Frankfort, Tenn., which is famously mum about the exact contents of its Mash Bills # 1 and # 2. We do know that Blanton’s is distilled from Mash Bill # 2, a “high-rye” mash bill — meaning after the higher proportion of corn common in Buffalo Trace bourbons, the rest (or much of the rest) of the mash bill is made up of rye. Whereas wheated whiskies tend to be softer, a kick of rye in a mash bill tends to produce a bit more in the way of fruit and spice, which play nicely with caramel and char. Though it’s worth noting that the final flavor profile varies from barrel to barrel (that’s kind of the idea).

We owe it to a guy called Blanton and his thirst for good bourbon.

Yes, there was a Blanton — Albert Bacon Blanton. Lee named his game-changing single barrel for Blanton, who had worked his way up from 16-year-old desk clerk at what would become Buffalo Trace Distillery to distillery president from 1921 to 1952, growing the distillery exponentially and — no small thing — seeing it through Prohibition and World War II. Naming the Single Barrel for Blanton is a tribute: Back in the day, Blanton would put aside what he considered the best bourbon — from barrels aged in the center of the all-metal Warehouse H (see below). To this day, that’s where Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon comes from.

Single barrel isn’t a legal term.

Like the “all natural” on your bologna or “farm fresh,” quite possibly also on your bologna, “single barrel” isn’t a legally defined term in the United States. Yes, that leaves a lot of wiggle room for creative interpretation. But so far, the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau (a.k.a. the TTB, the paper-pushing folks in charge of labeling and regulating spirits) hasn’t set up a legal definition. So for now, we’re working on the honor system (and that never went wrong in whiskey, right?).

Legal or not, “single barrel” still really matters.

We’ll roll our eyes at “single-stalk corn syrup” and “single-pig salami” when they inevitably enter the market, but we take the implications of “single-barrel bourbon” seriously (because it’s actually a thing). Whereas bourbon in general is blended by brand and by distillery to create a desired flavor profile, a single-barrel bourbon categorically (but politely) rejects blending. Instead you’re embracing whatever inimitable magic the aging process has done to the whiskey inside a particular barrel.

Blanton comes from a famous warehouse.

Let’s face it: When warehouses are famous, it’s either because of a murder or a baler incident (which may or may not involve Michael Scott). So there’s almost never a fun reason to bring up “warehouse lore,” except of course in the case of Blanton’s, because Blanton’s is aged in Buffalo Trace’s famous Warehouse H, the distillery’s only all-metal rick house (or barrel-aging building) and the very place where Blanton himself would stow his select barrels of whiskey. Though unconfirmed, we assume he would visit them and quietly pet them in the middle of the night.

Blanton’s barrels are kind of coddled.

Most whiskies are machine-dumped, which sounds un-artisan and so far away from genteel southern bourbon that we’ll pretend we never learned about the practice. (In truth, it just means the barrel contents are mechanically overturned.) In contrast, Blanton’s barrels are hand-dumped, which sounds just a bit better (and looks like this), adding a level of persnickety care to the process for this bourbon.

Blanton’s barrels are also mildly tortured.

With the bourbon inside, Blanton’s barrels are aged for several years in Warehouse H. Since metal conducts heat, the walls of Warehouse H act like an amplifier for Kentucky’s temperature fluctuations, increasing the impact of heat and humidity changes, all of which encourages the barrels to absorb and then flush out the bourbon more often over the course of aging. And the more interaction between bourbon and barrel, the more flavor in the end.

There’s a ton of vital info on the labels.

Schools stopped teaching cursive for a while, but it’s making a comeback, probably because people realized the next generation wouldn’t be able to read the Blanton’s label (or perhaps they feared the emotional clumsiness of a world where emotion is expressed exclusively in emoji). That’s clutch for Blanton’s drinkers, since all that scrolly handwriting lets you know the barrel number, the number of the rick (or storage rack) the barrel was taken from, the proof your bourbon was bottled at, the final bottle’s ABV, and even the date the bourbon was dumped (and yes, this is the only time it’s not deeply depressing to commemorate a dumping date).

You can collect the horse stoppers. And it will drive you mad.

The adorable horse stopper atop every bottle of Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon each has a letter on it in a little circle to the lower left. Collect all eight and you get “B L A N T O N S” (and some peace of mind). FYI, the “S” shows the horse crossing the finish line; you can tell because the jockey is fist-pumping. But don’t join him in the winner’s circle just yet — double-check that your “Ns” aren’t the same N. The first is a regular old N, but the second should have a colon after it, as shown here.

There’s a risk of inconsistency from bottle to bottle.

That’s part of the magic and curse of a single-barrel product. Bourbons are typically created by blending whiskey from multiple barrels to reach a desired flavor profile. But — now we know — single-barrel bourbons like Blanton’s defy that. And since barrels in the same warehouse can age very differently, one bottle of Blanton’s Single Barrel could taste very different from another if they came from two different barrels. Granted, you’re still operating in bourbon territory, with limited elements at play (corn mash, a proportion of rye, barley or wheat, charred virgin oak, Kentucky superstition), so the range of flavors isn’t too wild. But one barrel might showcase more or less brown sugar, smoke, caramel, clove, vanilla, hazelnut, orange peel, and other flavor notes.

There’s a cask-strength “Unfiltered Straight from the Barrel” Blanton’s that’s not available in the U.S.

Yes, it’s distilled here. Yes, it’s shipped elsewhere. Yes, it’s delicious. So, yeah. Damn. (You can purchase it from overseas markets and have it shipped back here, but that’s a whole thing.)

But Blanton’s Gold edition is coming to a shop near you.

Previously unavailable in the U.S., Blanton’s Single Barrel Gold Edition is going to be available in the U.S. for the first time ever this summer. It’s made in basically the same way as the original Blanton’s, except the Gold edition is 103 proof. Note that the higher alcohol has an impact on the bourbon’s flavor profile, with darker, chewier fruits and caramels, coarser heat, and sharper spice flavors. It’s going to be available once yearly, at $120. Considering the number of bourbon geeks out there, you should stake out your buying spot now.

The article 13 Things You Need to Know About Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/blantons-bourbon-whiskey-guide/

0 notes

isaiahrippinus · 5 years ago

Text

13 Things You Need to Know About Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon

In honor of learning from our mistakes, here are 13 things you need to know about Blanton’s.

It was the world’s first “single-barrel” bourbon.

It’s a “high-rye” bourbon.

We owe it to a guy called Blanton and his thirst for good bourbon.

Single barrel isn’t a legal term.

Legal or not, “single barrel” still really matters.

Blanton comes from a famous warehouse.

Blanton’s barrels are kind of coddled.

Blanton’s barrels are also mildly tortured.

There’s a ton of vital info on the labels.

You can collect the horse stoppers. And it will drive you mad.

There’s a risk of inconsistency from bottle to bottle.

There’s a cask-strength “Unfiltered Straight from the Barrel” Blanton’s that’s not available in the U.S.

But Blanton’s Gold edition is coming to a shop near you.

The article 13 Things You Need to Know About Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/blantons-bourbon-whiskey-guide/ source https://vinology1.tumblr.com/post/611845391625994240

0 notes

johnboothus · 5 years ago

Text

13 Things You Need to Know About Blantons Single Barrel Bourbon

In honor of learning from our mistakes, here are 13 things you need to know about Blanton’s.

It was the world’s first “single-barrel” bourbon.

It’s a “high-rye” bourbon.

We owe it to a guy called Blanton and his thirst for good bourbon.

Single barrel isn’t a legal term.

Legal or not, “single barrel” still really matters.

Blanton comes from a famous warehouse.

Blanton’s barrels are kind of coddled.

Blanton’s barrels are also mildly tortured.

There’s a ton of vital info on the labels.

You can collect the horse stoppers. And it will drive you mad.

There’s a risk of inconsistency from bottle to bottle.

There’s a cask-strength “Unfiltered Straight from the Barrel” Blanton’s that’s not available in the U.S.

But Blanton’s Gold edition is coming to a shop near you.

The article 13 Things You Need to Know About Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/blantons-bourbon-whiskey-guide/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/13-things-you-need-to-know-about-blantons-single-barrel-bourbon

0 notes

gyrlversion · 6 years ago

Text

Diary of a flytip detective

Fly-tipping is a blight on our countryside, a serious risk to wildlife and human health, and costs the taxpayer more than £58 million a year. There is nothing more infuriatingly selfish — and the problem is getting worse, with offences rising by more than 7 per cent a year.

It carries the threat of a fixed-penalty fine of up to £400, or a prison sentence for repeat offenders. But fly-tippers have become increasingly sophisticated and, to those trying to stop them, most get away scot-free.

Sometimes eyesores can be dealt with by altruistic community clean-up crews, such as the 200,000-plus members of the public and school volunteers taking part in the Mail-backed Great British Spring Clean, which runs from March 22 to April 23 (see below left for how to sign up).

Fly-tipping is a blight on our countryside, a serious risk to wildlife and human health, and costs the taxpayer more than £58 million a year

But catching fly-tippers is the job of community enforcement officers, who are working harder than ever in the face of government cutbacks.

Here, Alastair Jenkins, an enforcement officer with Walsall Council, in the West Midlands, shares the diary of his daily battles to bring the perpetrators of this shameful crime to justice.

MONDAY: A GAME OF CAT AND MOUSE

It has been another busy weekend for fly-tippers and I arrive to work to find an inbox full of complaints.

Our four-strong enforcement team handle antisocial behaviour, environmental crime, licensing, statutory nuisance and ‘unauthorised encampments’. Fly-tipping is just part of my job — but it’s taking up more and more time and becoming an obsession.

I took this job 11 years ago after 15 years in the police, as I wanted to make a visible difference to the beautiful countryside around here — but it is immensely frustrating.

Walsall spends £750,000 a year on clearing up fly-tipping, and we have hidden cameras at hotspots such as lay-bys, dead-end roads and patches of wasteland. The cameras are triggered by activity or movement, and most weeks we get about five bits of clear footage. You’d be surprised how many people are oblivious to the bright yellow ‘CCTV in operation’ signs we are obliged by law to put up.

Some of the footage is comical. You see young lads pulling washing machines out of a van straight onto their feet, then hopping around nursing their toes, or builders dumping waste willy-nilly on a layby, then meticulous folding their sacks and stacking buckets to put back in their vans.

Alastair Jenkins (pictured), an enforcement officer with Walsall Council, in the West Midlands, shares the diary of his daily battles to bring the perpetrators of this shameful crime to justice. He is seen sifting through rubbish for evidence

One memorable conviction was of a gang of serial fly-tippers who had been operating right under our noses. CCTV showed them emptying their bags of waste, furniture and mattresses in such a rush that one of them was hit on the head by a bag thrown by his mate. The courts sent him to prison for six months, with a two-year driving ban.

But sadly, successful convictions are few and far between.

In one unsolved case, residents of an affluent suburb heard clattering noises in the night. In the morning they were appalled to see their immaculate verges strewn with bits of broken furniture and old carpets spread across the entire length and breadth of their estate.

At 2am, a pick-up truck had turned in off the main road, dropped its tailgate and lurched through the crescent, scattering its full load of rubbish before speeding off into the night. The driver couldn’t be identified.

Often, number plates are obscured (some fly-tippers remove them, empty their load, then drive out of camera range and replace them) or doctored. It is common to see tape stuck on a letter F to make it look like an E, for instance, or to find that the plates are false.

If we identify a fly-tipper, we have to write inviting them to come in for an interview. When we don’t hear from them, we’ll do a door-knock and try to personally invite them for interview. That rarely works, either.

We have been able to gather enough evidence to issue about 20 fixed penalty fines in the past 18 months. Three still haven’t paid and we will be taking those cases to court. We are continually frustrated by our lack of ‘teeth’ and it is disheartening when the community criticises us for ‘doing nothing’.

To try to get on top of the problem, we are trialling initiatives such as extending the opening hours at local tips and offering free skips in designated locations to try to encourage people to get rid of their waste more responsibly.

We will soon also have the right to immediately seize a vehicle we suspect of being involved in fly-tipping. We just tell them, if you want the vehicle back, you have to talk to us.

We’d love to be able to get these people convicted but in taking a case to court, our hands are often tied. Every piece of evidence has to be absolutely watertight, and ensuring that is the case can cost up to £1,000.

TUESDAY: WALSALL’S MOST WANTED

I get a call about a fresh dump of rubbish at our most notorious spot — the open space in a run-down part of town called Goscote Lodge Crescent. It’s a fly-tipper’s paradise — easy access, loads of space and no one around to see what you’re up to.

Even though there are cameras in the area, virtually every morning there is a fresh fly-tipping incident there. Yesterday it was fridges — 20 of them. Today it’s huge wooden reels that must have once spooled copper cable.

The council clean-up crew are always on the lookout and usually arrive within 24 hours with a grabber on the back of a truck to cart the rubbish away before opportunists can add to the pile.

I drive out quickly to sift for evidence (receipts, bills or prescriptions that might hint where the tippers came from). You have to be quick before wind and rain scatters or ruins paperwork. By law, the person named on anything found is culpable but they are rarely responsible for the actual fly-tipping.

There is a Birmingham address on a receipt, so I run it through the police team when I get back to the office. Fly-tipping is very often bundled up with a whole raft of criminal activity.

Fly-tippers have become increasingly sophisticated and, to those trying to stop them, most get away scot-free. Alistair is pictured searching through rubbish

The giant reels dumped at Goscote Lodge Crescent probably held cabling that has been stolen, so fly-tipping is merely the grubby end of the process.

Sometimes we are told to back down or warned not to attempt a door-knock without police back-up — none of us wants to walk right into a snake pit.

WEDNESDAY: THE WHITE VAN MEN

We head for a car park in Willenhall for one of our monthly community protection events with the local police.

Over the years we have built up a profile of the classic fly-tipper’s vehicle: a white Transit-type van, 12-15 years old, usually in a scruffy state, with no branding or livery. So today we’ve got the police flagging down any vans that fit that brief and directing them towards us. Of the 12 pulled over, 11 are carrying house clearance and scrap and none of the drivers will say where they got it from or where they are taking it.

Obviously we can’t convict anyone merely for carrying scrap, but this is an opportunity to warn the drivers about our CCTV cameras and tell them what they should be doing with rubbish. It means we have their details on file and if the number plates come up later, they can’t claim innocence if caught.

Some local authorities slap stickers that read ‘illegally dumped rubbish under investigation’ on abandoned fridges, or swathe them in crime-scene tape. It can act as a deterrent and be quite a shock to someone who has pushed a fridge to the end of their drive, hoping the ‘scrap collector’ will take it away.

Mostly these abandoned white goods get picked up, stripped of metal parts, then fly-tipped.

Until recently, one of our worst sites in Walsall was a pretty arched bridge over the Wyrley and Essington Canal. Fly-tippers would reverse their vans up to the bridge and tip their load onto the road, where it spilled into the canal.

Last summer there was so much rubbish — the soil and bags from cannabis farms, fridges, old sofas, supermarket trolleys — you couldn’t see the water. Our clean-up teams were removing ten tons of rubbish from the site every week.

Then the Leader of the Council managed to get our highways colleagues to close the road and put massive concrete blocks in front of the bridge to block access. The fly-tippers had to go elsewhere.

THURSDAY: EMAILS COME TO NOTHING

This week’s report from our fly-tipping hotline shows 76 cases in the past three days alone.

My inbox is peppered with emails from residents who send me pictures of vans with their back doors open, number plates clearly visible, and people taking rubbish out and dumping it. That should be gold-standard evidence but it counts for nothing if the sender insists on remaining anonymous.

Yes, I understand they don’t want their tyres slashed or windows broken in recrimination. But without incontrovertible CCTV footage or a witness willing to go to court if necessary, we can’t build a case.

I am buzzed down to the reception area of our building, where a man proudly hands me a photo he has taken of a neighbour dumping building rubbish. It is crystal-clear but you can’t see any faces, and he mutters: ‘You didn’t get this from me’ as he rushes away.

Enforcement officer Alastair Jenkins reviews footage of fly-tipping in the Walsall area

I walk sadly back to my desk and file the photo with the 67 other cases I’m working on that seem to be going nowhere. I take a drive to Birmingham to find the owner of the rubbish tipped a few days ago. It’s a tidy, middle-class house with a well-kept lawn and the owner is horrified to hear why I’m there.

Industrial action in Birmingham meant the household rubbish hadn’t been collected for weeks, so she had employed a man who came to her door brandishing a business card extolling his waste disposal services and fraudulently stamped with a charity logo.

She said she felt betrayed because she put her trust in him, paid £1 a bag, then he dumped it all less than two miles from her house.

Thankfully, she is happy to support our enquiries and we’ve got the business card as evidence.

FRIDAY: IT’S HIGH FIVES ALL ROUND

I head straight to the address on the business card and find, parked outside, the grey van clearly recognisable from the CCTV footage. This is exciting but, as always, there are complications.

We are authorised to invite the registered owner of the vehicle in for interview, but it’s clear when he opens the door that the owner is at least 30 years older than the figure captured on CCTV. We are now forced to try to identify the suspect in other ways — I’m hoping we’ll be allowed to seize the vehicle, as it might speed the process a bit.

Back at the office, the team is waiting for five suspected fly-tippers who have been invited in for interview. Some are of Eastern European descent, so we have employed a translator to join us.

An hour later, and two hours into the translator’s £27-an-hour time, only one has turned up.

He gets an £80 fine, which doesn’t even come close to covering the amount of money that will have been spent on his case alone.

The translator tells us it’s accepted among this tight-knit immigrant community that any rubbish that doesn’t fit in your bin can be left in car parks or by the road for the council to remove.

There are pockets of rubbish-strewn land like this all over town, which we have spent thousands trying to clear. We could send a clean-up crew there every day and still make no dent in the mess.

As we are packing up for the evening, the desk phone rings and my colleague Kirsty picks it up. I hear her saying ‘yes… yes… ’ then she squeals, punching the air.

Last month our covert cameras had revealed an amazingly clear bit of footage of a man emptying car tyres from his van onto a verge. We got the number plate but needed to identify the man. With cases like these we have started to post the footage on our new ‘Walsall’s Most Wanted’ web pages and social media, and offer a reward for information leading to conviction.

The council recently hiked the reward money offered from £100 to £500 and, incredibly, it has worked. Someone saw that video, recognised the man and called us to give his name. I run downstairs to the police (in the same building) to see if they have a photo of the person with that name. It’s a match.

Maybe, just maybe, this one can get to court.

The post Diary of a flytip detective appeared first on Gyrlversion.

from WordPress https://www.gyrlversion.net/diary-of-a-flytip-detective/

#Entertainment News

0 notes

jessicakmatt · 6 years ago

Text

The Art of The 180: 6 Artists that Successfully Reinvented Their Sound

The Art of The 180: 6 Artists that Successfully Reinvented Their Sound: via LANDR Blog

Artists can completely transform in front of your eyes. One day it’s rock, the next day it’s rap, tomorrow it’s country.

It’s not uncommon—And it’s usually for a pretty relatable reason…

Sometimes musicians have to change everything about the way they approach making music to keep their process rewarding.

If you’ve ever struggled to create new, interesting music but were afraid to switch things up, you’re not alone.

These examples of huge musical transformation are proof that big changes are tough, but can inspire some incredible musical ideas.

Here’s six stories that will help you embrace changes—big and small—in your own approach to creating.

1. Derek Miller – From metal guitarist to noise pop producer/instrumentalist

What does the hardcore outfit Poison The Well and critically acclaimed indie noise pop duo Sleigh Bells have in common?

Multi-talented musician, songwriter and producer Derek Miller.

Growing up in south Florida, Miller picked up the guitar and joined Poison The Well in the late 90s. A few years late, Miller broke ties with the group.

Eventually, his love for George Michael, Madonna and Michael Jackson led Miller towards a fascinating musical transition to his Sleigh Bells project.

Sleigh Bells’ four albums preserve Miller’s energetic hardcore roots while leveraging tools like drum machines and distorted vocals to create music that’s both manic and rewarding to listen to—proof that songwriting and musical fulfilment doesn’t have to be bound by genre.

Joni Mitchell – Folk songwriter to jazz and experimental pioneer

After a decade of meticulously crafting gorgeous folk music, Joni Mitchell started finding massive success in the mid 70s. She won two Grammy Awards, released the critically acclaimed albums Ladies of The Canyon and Blue, which is now regarded one of the best albums of all time.

And then at the height of her career, she ditched pop and folk completely to focus on a love for Jazz.

Mitchell explored songs with less conventional structures that incorporated a wider range of instruments and a sound closer to some of her influences.

Bored with her music-making formula, Mitchell wanted to explore songs with less conventional structures that incorporated a wider range of instruments.

With an intrepid spirit, Mitchell’s jazz period involved things like early music sampling and collaborations with jazz greats like Charles Mingus and Jaco Pastorius.

Mitchell’s transformation allowed her to remain creatively engaged and interested for decades. She went on to create music exploring experimental pop, rock, folk and jazz for the next 30 years.

Bob Dylan – From folk icon to controversial electric guitar-wielding rocker

Bob Dylan’s transition from acoustic to electric caused one of the most storied moments in rock history: the infamous boos heard around the world at the 1965 Newport Festival.

In the mid-60’s, Dylan was seen as the American folk music revival’s fearless and uncompromising leader.

So when he began performing, and eventually recording with a full band, non-distorted electric guitars and swirling organs, huge factions of his audience we’re less than thrilled.

Dylan’s transition from acoustic to electric sounds may tame to our modern ears, but it was an unforgivable betrayal to many in his audience back in the 60’s.

Even so, Dylan’s willingness to incorporate new modern sounds and tools in his work remains inspiring. Even in the face of alienating his audience, he did it anyway and made the music he was interested in no matter what the consequences were at the time.

Today, artists are often criticized for trading in guitars for synthesizers, but Dylan’s transformation shows that similar musical controversies have been happening for a long time.

Dylan’s curveball solidified his legacy as a monolithic figure in rock that endures today. His tumultuous turn to electric is a mere blip on a legendary and fascinating career.

Taylor Swift: From Nashville country to genre-bending popstar

Taylor Swift’s transformation from country to all things pop might seem like a masterfully plotted career move, but for Swift, it was more of a natural evolution.

With stadium-ready synths and 808 beats, Swift’s album 1989 sounds a universe away from her old pop country playbook, and 2017’s Reputation stretches her newly adopted pop identity even further.

Though she probably lost some fans during the transition, Swift’s chart-topping take on pop wildly succeeded by most accounts.

Whether it was a career decision or a fearless intuitive songwriting transformation doesn’t matter when you consider that doing the same thing over and over again in music usually doesn’t work.

Damon Albarn – From lead singer to comic book

Damon Albarn is leading one of popular music’s most interesting and successful careers thanks to his willingness to take risks and transform as an artist.

Formed in the early 90’s, his first project Blur was a big success in its own right. Influenced by The Beatles and The Kinks, the guitar-driven outfit earned wide acclaim and an avid fanbase.

But In 1998 Albarn flipped the switch when he formed Gorillaz with his friend Jamie Hewlett, a comic book artist.

Embracing sounds from hip hop, electronica and funk, Gorillaz present their music through a fascinating fictional universe for audiences to explore not only through music but also music videos, animated shorts and interviews—a far cry from the straightforward rock of Blur.

With catchy synth work and masterful beat-making, a major defining element of the band’s sound is borne through a spirit of collaboration. The project’s canon features everyone from Snoop Dogg to Mavis Staples.

Albarn’s openness to transformation not only gave his music access to new genres and collaborations, it also redefined what a band is and can be today.

Brian Wilson – From good mannered Beach Boy to seminal studio wizard

It’s hard to believe now, but when Pet Sounds came out in 1966, critics didn’t care for it. The world is now well aware of Wilson’s genius, but that wasn’t the case in the late 60’s…

The world is now well aware of Wilson’s genius, but that wasn’t the case in the late 60’s…

With Pet Sounds, Wilson set out to create the greatest rock album ever made through a complete musical statement. That meant no filler tracks and a ton of studio-oriented experimentation.

His bandmates urged him to keep things simple to sell more records and make playing live easy, but Wilson’ refused to compromise.

Instead, Wilson decided to move away from music built for live performance and set his sights on moving deeper into the possibilities of the modern recording studio.

Pet Sounds is now thought of as the first concept album in terms of musical production. Inspired by Phil Spector’s “Wall of Sound” concept, Wilson’s production and songwriting on the album reflects an obsession with textures created through combining sounds and pioneering studio techniques.

Pet Sounds embraces everything from jazz to psychedelia, setting the stage for the progressive chamber pop that shapes a large part of the musical landscape today.

Wilson’s unwavering need to push the boundaries of recording, gave rise to the studio-as-an-instrument ethos that continues to drive imaginations of bedroom producers everywhere.

Sound it out

Change is good. Don’t let genres and habits hold you back from exploring everything production and songwriting have to offer.

The stories behind these pivots prove that music and the creative process can benefit from a little shake-up every now and then…

Changes—big or small—can make a difference. Switch something up for yourself and see what happens.

The post The Art of The 180: 6 Artists that Successfully Reinvented Their Sound appeared first on LANDR Blog.

from LANDR Blog https://blog.landr.com/6-artists-reinvented-their-sound/ via https://www.youtube.com/user/corporatethief/playlists from Steve Hart https://stevehartcom.tumblr.com/post/182382366809

0 notes

mechagalaxy · 7 years ago

Text

Breakup Fext

There are days it pays to get out of bed in the morning, then there are days you should have been lucky enough to spend in the brig, or getting interrogated by customs, perhaps devoured by Vol Worms? I didn’t get that lucky, I hit Novum Dolorum the day Tory caught Drake with a bimbofied clone of hers.

You know how they say there is nothing hotter than a red head? They lie. Give Tory access to a high profile plasma research facility and a burning desire to make men of the world, any men, any world, and they don’t have to be actual men, even Forerunners, clones, cyborgs, and anything that is not obviously female through targeting sensors glanced at through lenses of pure rage, die screaming in flames, and you get some really first rate kit.

We hit the jackpot, the jamming that hid the pirates back trail suddenly cut out, and a mad scramble of machines came through the gate. Staggering, shut down machines. One was a headless Antithesis; I kid you not, something had literally MELTED the head into a dripping collar of cooling metal. I wonder who was inside? We had a back door open into the pirates main sortie point, and surprise surprise, it was Tory herself?

You figure we would be less surprised, the fifteenth time we caught her, but she does innocent so very well, and I kind of have a soft spot for her.

“Oh thank god, someone else to kill. You know, I am SO MAD I can’t even concentrate on my research, and somebody needs to pay. You have screwed up my attempts to get my funding based on something other than the whims of self righteous fools who think new weapons can be had for the cost of office supplies and base maintenance costs. You will do. Don’t die fast, I have a lot of angry to work off”

Oh this was totally not good

From the first sortie, Tory was on point. She swooped in a Novum, and I thought to pot her like a pheasant when she cut lose with something called a Hellbat. Well she was swooping like a Hellbat, and when she cut loose, two of my machines blew right up as their shielding, hull, and engines failed under more plasma than something that small should be able to generate. I caught her with my Fext, and drilled her wee Novum with an Archfiend. Didn’t get her square, so only sheered off the drive units, and put her into the berm in a crash. We wiped out her team and got ready to stomp the rest of them.

I saw her stagger from the Novum, and crawl up a Cindron, use a code key to open the hatch, and then she TOSSED the pilot off, head first, to take his place. Holy crap. She is really worked up about something. She used that Cindron to burn my legs right out from under me with a Prometheus, and I was using the extinguisher on my legs when my Boreas nailed her with a Winter’s Grasp. She was frozen solid. Hah good luck getting out of that. Well, one scream later, the frost literally blew off her mecha, and she cut the Boreas in half at the hips with a Phyrenado. I got on the horn to base “This is Alpha Fext, send up our energy packs, large and small, I got a feeling Tory is not going to just let us walk over her today. We are going to be here a while”

She burned us again and again, finally stepping into her Inferno, and going literally hand to hand with us. You want to know what is scary? Watching an Inferno at 70 tons kick the knee out of a Notas, lean over and burn down the flanking Boreas, before using her knee armour to smash the cockpit and pilot of the kneeling Notas. We shot her off the pilot with a combination of lasers and cannon, but not before she lit me on fire again.

It took 46.5 hours before we finally ran her out of minions, out of plasma, and more importantly out of anger.

I used my Fext Rage Pulsars to core through her shields and critical kill that damned Inferno that seemed to have way more armour than any two machines of its class should sport. I wasn’t going to risk letting her get away, so I reached down and unspooled my drop cable and descended with my pistol to take her into custody.

I saw the emergency release on the Inferno cockpit, and grabbed it with my left hand as my right swung a cogwork bolt thrower at her face. She was not getting the drop on me!

You figure I would learn. The emergency release was rigged, and nanites wired a superconductor link between my skin and the handle, right through my gloves, then shot about 1400 volts through me. I got lucky and my spasming hand locked the safety on my Cogwork Bolt thrower, and I only bashed myself in the face with it.

I came to looking up into her concerned face. She was smiling, and stretching like a relaxed cat. Giving her hair a flip she looked down on me and smiled.

“You are the Fext pilot? Well, you were JUST what I needed. I was a little worked up about Drake and his little chippie, and you let me get if off my chest. “ She gave me a stern look as my eyes dropped to her chest, and tapped me in the nose with my own gun.

“Its true what they say, when a girl has a bad relationship end, what she needs is some really good breakup Fext, and you gave some really good breakup Fext. I am going to let you live, and even leave you a little something to remember me by.”

With that she stuck me with some sort of tranquilizer patch, because I woke up in a factory fresh Inferno with an Illyrian Flare mounted. Well what do you know? I guess I have to admit, I can’t complain about the booty from this booty call. I have no problem just being used for breakup Fext, as long as it’s with Tory.

John T Mainer 28840

0 notes