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faveficarchive · 2 years ago

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~ One Two Oh ~

by A.C. Henley

2008

Warning: Lesbians, sex, and angry bulls.

This was my entry to the Academy of Bards Challenge #19, it had to be written within the rules of the challenge. There was a list of possible personal ads to choose from and the story had to be written around the ad. The ad I chose is represented in the bold type at the beginning of the story.

Enjoy.

It was obviously a joke by one of the remaining ranch hands, and as soon as Rose found out which of the five had placed the ad she was going to personally and literally kick his ass off the 120 Mile Ranch. She stared down at the paper with the red-circled personal ad and read it once again.

Wanted:

Cowgirl to teach riding, roping and wrangling.

Branding experience a plus.

Contact Rose Grant, personally, at the 120mi Ranch.

Rose tossed the paper down on the kitchen table and got up to get herself another cup of coffee. She looked out the kitchen window, she had already been up for hours milking cows, feeding chickens, gassing up trucks and tractors and feeding the workhorses. The sky was just now beginning to lighten in the east as the sun made its way up, bringing another day to the ranch. She sighed and walked back to the table where the Grant's Pass Daily News laid folded. Rose picked up the paper again and tapped it against the Formica tabletop. The kitchen's door opened and in walked Champ Broody, her Ranch foreman "Have you seen this?" She asked tossing the paper at Champ.

Champ fumbled with the paper then held it out at arms length so he could focus on the small writing. "Old man Finch is looking for a tractor, his '53 Ferguson must have finally crapped out." He said barely holding the chuckle that threatened to bubble up as his eyes raked over the circled ad that was the obvious cause of Rose's mood.

Rose growled as she stood and reached across the table jerking the paper from Champ's hands, "To hell with Ricky Finch and his Ferguson! I want to know who placed this ad!" She roughly tapped the middle of the red circle causing the paper to tear slightly.

Champ gently took the paper back and once again extended his arm as he took in a deep breath, "Ah. Well it certainly seems like a personal ad, doesn't it? Did you get to drinking and called up the paper in one of those reflective 'I don't want to be alone on a desolate Wyoming ranch forever' moments?" Champ asked with a fatherly tone and raised eyebrow.

"I did not!" Rose said defensively and grabbed the paper back. She wadded up the six- page report on the local coming and goings and threw it in the trash bin next to the refrigerator. "I don't need anyone for anything other than to help me run this ranch, and I'm about to be another hand short as soon as I find out who placed that ad!" She stomped out of the kitchen and down the hall where she entered the office and slammed the door.

Champ walked to the coffee pot and poured himself a half a cup of the dark brew that Rose was so fond of, and then he went to the fridge and filled the rest of the cup with milk. He sat down at the table and smiled to himself. It was going to be quite the week at the One Two Oh.

He remembered the day about six months back when Rose showed up. He had called the girl to inform her that her father had passed away. The old man, Forrest Grant, had gone quietly on a summer night, one year to the day of his wife Vera's passing. Rose had come back for her mother's funeral and had been so ill treated by her father that she had vowed to not return until she had to put the old man in the grave. What Rose hadn't expected was to inherit the seventy-seven thousand acre ranch. After the first three months of trying to manage the historic range of cattle, sheep, and horses she had confided in Champ that she was sure it was her father's ultimate punishment for not being what he wanted in his only child. He looked over at the trash bin and smiled, one of the boys had gotten up to some mischief, he made a mental note to tell 'em to lay low for a week or two.

Rose sat behind the huge oak desk that was her father's long time command center. In the six months that she had been back at the ranch she had hardly changed a thing in the office. There was a part of her that was still the fourteen-year-old girl who was terrified of Forrest Grant. That girl would never move a thing that belonged to her over-bearing father.

Rose turned the big leather chair around to face the window. The sky was turning from black to blue and the sun had just peeked up over the edge of the Cottonwood Valley. She wondered to herself if she was doing the right thing, trying to run the huge ranch that had been in her family for four generations. She had left the day after she had turned fourteen; her father caught her kissing Charlotte 'Critter' Johnson behind the stables. Forrest Grant had been disappointed in his daughter since the day she was born, and had held it against the girl her entire life for not being the son he had so desperately wanted to carry on his name. Rose was a midlife baby, born to parents in their early forties, a joy to her mother and a curse to her father.

He had found her with her hands under Critter's shirt and her lips locked tight to the slightly older girl's mouth. He had chased her back to the house, swinging his belt at her the entire way, landing several good licks before her mother had stepped between them and put an end to the beating. But not even her mother could stop her father from putting his daughter out of the house. Forrest Grant had made it clear that he would have no queers under his roof and that he was sure that Rose would find the fires of hell to be more accommodating than his house.

Rose walked toward town that summer evening making it several miles before her mother had intercepted her. Vera Grant took Rose to the Grant's Pass bus station, and there she put her daughter on a bus to Connecticut, where she would stay with Vera's sister Louise.

Rose remembered her mother's wet cheeks and teary eyes as she put her on the bus. Her mother promised to smooth things over with her father and that she would soon be welcomed back on the ranch. Rose spent the next six years with her aunt, waiting for the call to come home. She finally gave up and entered university where she studied international business, she graduated magna cum laude and had sent the invitations to her mother and father to attend her graduation. The invitation came back stamped Return to Sender. Rose didn't make it back to the ranch until her mother had died. Her father had refused to let Rose set foot on his property and had publicly berated her at the graveside service. Rose left Wyoming even more despondent than when she had arrived. When the call came that her father had died she was ashamed to feel relief rather than grief. What was even more surprising was the fact that her father had willed the entire ranch to her. Now she wondered if Forrest Grant was laughing at her from his grave high on Saw Tooth Bluff.

A light knock came to the office door, "Yeah?" She asked softly as Champ's gray head poked in.

"You ready to get at it?" Champ asked.

"I suppose." Rose stood and grabbed her hat and coat from the old metal hat rack on her way out of the office.

"Come on then, lets go play cowboy!" Champ draped his long arm over Rose's shoulder, "I know you've had a rough time of it, Rose, but I know you're going to be a great rancher some day, greater than your father."

"I appreciate your loyalty, Champ, but if things don't turn around soon I'm afraid I'm going to have to sell." Rose said with a sigh. "We're twenty hands short. I don't know how we're going to manage to move the herd to Merry Gulch, and then there's the bulls who all need a check up before wintering and breeding, I just don't know how six of us are going to pull it off." They exited the big house and crossed the wide plank porch and down the steps to come to a stand still on the gravel drive that spread between the house and one of seventeen corrals. "What the hell is going on?" Rose asked as she took in the several worn pickup trucks and horse trailers that were parked along the corral fence. There were some horses saddled up with their riders standing by them, reins in hand. Only one thing bound the scene together and that was the blatant fact that all the people gathered in front of her were women. "I'm gonna kill the asshole who placed that ad." Rose said in a low hiss.

Champ scratched his chin as he took in the dozen and a half women waiting in the gray morning light. "This could be a blessing." His eyes scanned the women and landed on a short blonde sitting on the corral's fence, her black Stetson held in one hand as the other ruffled through her short locks trying to brush out the inevitable hat head. "Well I'll be a goat's daddy." He said softly.

"How could every lesbian in a five hundred mile radius showing up on my door step be a blessing?" Rose said turning back to the house and stomping up onto the porch, "I'm going back to bed."

Champ caught her by the arm, "You're the one who just said that we were down by twenty hands, and here on the door step is about exactly what we need."

Rose rolled her eyes and glanced at the waiting women, "The ad wasn't for a job, Champ." She blushed as she recalled the reason the women were waiting.

Champ chuckled, "Well who knows, maybe your Princess Charming is among them, but in the mean time we could sure use the help. I know a few of those gals, and they're good workers."

"So you want me to do what? Offer them all jobs and have them chasing me all over seventy-seven thousand acres?" Rose asked in a whisper. "I'm not looking for a relationship, Champ, I'm perfectly happy living single without drama."

Champ held his tongue, but he and the boys had another thought on that matter. "We could at least offer the jobs. We'll bring the bulls in for their check up, that'll weed out the posers."

Rose considered her options. More than half the ranch staff had walked off when she took over, unwilling to work for a woman, not to even mention a lesbian. Her own ranching skills were limited to what her father would allow her to learn and that education had ended abruptly when she was fourteen. In the last month she had become a better horsewoman, but she certainly was not at a caliber that she wished. The extra hands would mean an easier time for everyone. "Okay." She nodded to herself as she made the decision and strode to the edge of the porch where she let loose a loud whistle to get the gathered group's attention. "Listen up!"

Eighteen expectant faces turned toward her and several of the women closed in on the porch. Rose pushed her white hat back on her head and took a deep breath. "I know you all came out here expecting to have a shot at something laid out in that ad, and I'm here to tell you that it was a joke played on me by some of my hands." There was a long disappointed groan from the crowd which oddly made Rose feel fuzzy knowing that some of the women were truly let down. She held up her hands to quiet the group down, "Okay, having said that, it has been pointed out to me that some of you might like to apply for a position as a hand here on the One Two Oh. I'm offering good pay for a good days work, room and board included." Rose reached back behind her and dragged Champ forward by the front of his shirt, "Mr. Broody is my lead man and he'll be happy to take all your information." She pushed the older man toward the now excited crowd and then made her way to the stable.

Charlotte Johnson watched Rose talk from her perch on top of the corral fence. She had been slightly surprised by the turnout the ad had caused and was expecting to have to fight a few of the women for a good opportunity at Rose Grant, the most eligible lesbian in all of Wyoming. She inwardly groaned when she heard that Rose had not placed the ad but quickly brightened at the prospect to work on the famous One Two Oh. She wouldn't have a problem telling her current employer to go to hell in order to take a position as a ranch hand for Rose.

She slid from the fence and pushed through the crowd to come to a stop in front of old Champ Broody. She smiled crookedly as the man looked her up and down. "I can start tomorrow."

Champ pretended to consider the information but eventually broke into a wide grin as he reached his hand out, "I'd be honored to work beside Dale Johnson's kid. We'll hammer out the details tomorrow. Be ready to ride when you get here."

Charlotte shook Champ's hand with a nod of understanding. She looked at the retreating form of Rose and even though she wanted to chase after the woman she decided it was better to wait, she wasn't sure how she would be received. Tomorrow would be soon enough to find out.

The next day came way too quick for Rose. Already more than half the women who had gathered the day before for a chance at her had accepted employment on the ranch and were settled into the bunkhouses. It was just before dawn and there was a lot of activity happening outside the big ranch house as cowboys and now cowgirls were getting ready to round up the bulls, each of which would be getting a complete check up for the winter. It would prove to be a difficult day at best and would send the weak of heart packing immediately.

This would be the first time Rose would be participating completely in the event, her father had never permitted her to even get close to the pens when she was a kid, it wasn't 'women's work'. She stood in front the old oval mirror in her bedroom. She had on one of her worn blue denim work shirts, blue jeans, and black leather shotgun chaps. Her black hair was braided in a single braid down her back and tied off on the top and bottom to keep it secured. She pulled on her sheepskin lined denim jacket and grabbed her hat on the way out of her bedroom. Champ met her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ready to get dirty?"

Rose swallowed hard, "As ready as I'll ever be." They exited the house together but Rose soon found herself alone as Champ went quickly down the steps and up to a short blonde woman standing beside a handsome black stallion who seemed much too large a horse for the small woman.

"That little joke kind of backfired, huh?"

Rose looked to her left where the last of the original ranch hands stood looking very contrite. "I don't know about that, we needed some help on the ranch, and you guys certainly helped bring it here."

"Yeah, a bunch of dykes." One of them muttered.

Rose straightened to her full height as she pulled her leather gloves from her back pocket, "Whom exactly did you think you were going to get with that ad, a bunch of twenty-something boys?"

"We didn't think you'd hire the lot!" Another protested.

"That was not my idea, you have your fearless leader to thank for that." She pulled her gloves on. "Now as I understand it, we have quite the day ahead of us. I hope a bunch of girls don't show you all up." She stepped off the porch and strode to where Champ was chatting with the blonde. As she got closer something started to seem familiar about the woman and as she slowed and came to a stop it hit her like an avalanche. "Critter?"

Charlotte smiled up at Rose, "Yeah, hi Rose." She said quietly, barely able to stay still as her toes curled in her boots. She hadn't realized she would be so nervous meeting Rose again after such a long time.

Rose was speechless. She was torn between being elated and angry. She settled on angry and turned and walked to her horse that was saddled and waiting for her. She easily pulled herself up and rode toward the bullpens.

"Well that went brilliantly." Charlotte said sadly.

"I don't know what's wrong with that girl." Champ said under his breath then looked at the distraught woman beside him. "I don't know what burr is under her saddle, Critter."

"It's alright, she's got a right to be mad." Charlotte placed her hat on her head and pulled herself up onto the back of her horse. "Come on old man, we have some bulls to wrangle."

Rose made it to the pens ahead of the group. She took the time to prepare herself to come face to face with Critter Johnson once again. She tried to figure out exactly why she was so angry. "She could have found out where I went and tried to contact me, but nothing? not even a peep!" Rose could hear the clop of horses approaching and looked up at the lightening sky, "Why me? Why now?" She asked no one in particular but was answered by Champ's gruff voice next to her.

"Cause its time to put the past away, that girl did you no harm." Champ said looking over his shoulder at the quickly approaching bunch of riders.

Rose's shoulders slumped, "I don't want to talk about this now. Just get me through today, will you?" She asked Champ.

Champ nodded and rode away from her to give orders.

Rose fell in along with the rest of the hands to listen to Champ's directions and plans for the day. Some of the activities sounded down right nasty to her, but she'd decided months prior that if she was going to run the ranch she would be a hands-on owner, it was the only way to be sure things were done right.

By midday, she was thoroughly exhausted and disgusted. Not to mention sore from using muscles that had been long dormant. She had inspected, squeezed, patted, picked, prodded, and been stepped on by several bulls in a day's time.

She was leaning against one of the pen's many fences when all hell broke lose as a massive bull jumped the chutes shorter fence and started charging every thing in sight. The ranch hands were scattered everywhere in a panic, and Rose soon found herself looking straight into the dark eyes of one angry bull who had a bone to pick with every two legged thing in his sight. She could hear Champ's voice calling out commands to her, but the roar of her heartbeat in her ears muffled everything. She tried to climb up the fence behind her but her foot slipped and she landed with a thump on her rear on the cold Wyoming prairie. Her sudden yelp must have been the last thing the bull wanted to hear because he snorted twice and charged directly at her. Rose regained her footing and reached for the top bar of the fence, the ground shook under her feet as the bull got closer, she pulled with all her might to get her sore body up and over the fence. She let out another yelp as she found herself in a strong grip being hauled up and over the metal fence just before the bull slammed into it, sending herself and her rescuer flying off the top and onto the ground.

"Are you alright?"

Rose looked to her left where Critter sat rubbing her left upper arm. She took a quick inventory of herself, "I seem to be fine." She answered a little short and cringed at the sound of her own voice. She suddenly felt like an ass. "Sorry. Thanks for pulling me out of that." She nodded to where the angry bull was still strutting and head butting the fence. "Are you okay?"

Critter stood gingerly still rubbing her arm, "Nothing so wrong that some aspirin and hot bath won't fix. She walked over to Rose and extended her good arm down.

Rose sighed and took hold of Critter's hand and let herself be helped up. Champ and about half a dozen of the ranch hands ran over to them, their excited chatter gave her time to settle her rapidly beating heart.

"Damn it, Rose! I told you no daydreaming around these big boys." Champ said as he turned her to and fro looking for injuries, "You're lucky Critter was close by."

"Sorry." Rose said, as the truth of the moment and what could have happened came flooding into her mind.

Champ tsked and clapped her on the shoulder softly, "Well the good news is he was the last one." He looked around at the men and women who had gathered, "You all did a good job today, as far as I'm concerned everyone is hired on, but don't expect this to get any easier, if you don't think you can handle it there's no shame in saying so." He looked around the loose circle and smiled as they all met his stare with confident steady gazes of their own. "Alright then, let's get these big guys down to winter pasture." He chuckled at the combined whooped of the ranch hands but quickly scowled at Rose and Critter who were limping away toward their horses. "Hold it right there Butch and Sundance."

Rose moaned as Champ used her and Critter's old nicknames from their younger days. She stopped her forward motion and turned around to level a hard glare at her lead man.

"Oh save the bullshit stare for these youngsters, the two of you are going back to the house. There are plenty of us to get these bulls to pasture. I want you to have Cook give you both the once over." He nodded as if to finalize his command and then turned away making his way back to his own horse.

Rose turned and looked at Critter, "I guess we've been dismissed."

Critter shrugged, "Fine with me, I'm so done with this shit today that I'll be a March hare." She turned and finished the short walk to her horse. He seemed extra tall at the moment and she had to psych herself up to get the will to pull herself up into the saddle.

"You could've gotten yourself a shorter horse." Rose said settling in her own saddle with a soft groan as her muscles began to stiffen.

"And give up speed?" Critter smiled rakishly as she nudged the stallion with her boot heels and took off at a quick gallop across the prairie.

Rose nudged her paint mare after the stallion and had almost caught up with the black beast when Critter urged the stallion at a full out gallop that left Rose and her mare in a cloud of dust. Rose pouted and let her horse slow to a meandering walk the rest of the way to the stables. She settled into her saddle as best as she could and enjoyed the ride home. She could see Critter walking her stallion along the corral fence, cooling the animal off before stabling him for the night. Rose walked her mare into the stable and slid off onto the ground. It was starting to get colder and the sun had started to set behind the ridge to the west causing a sharp shadow to fall over the main compound.

Rose pulled the saddle from the mare's back and placed it on her tack rack, the bridle soon fallowed along with the tight woven saddle pad. She guided the horse into her stall and began the process of brushing down and settling her horse.

"What's her name?"

Rose looked over the mare's back at Critter who was just now taking the saddle off the tall stallion. "I haven't named her yet." She admitted with a shrug.

"How long has she had you for?" Critter asked as she guided her own horse into the stall next to where Rose was working.

Rose chuckled at Critter's phrasing of the question, "She's had me for about four months."

"Then it's getting on time the two of you were formally introduced." Critter whispered something into her stallion's ear before leaving the stall to come around the wall that separated the two stalls. She gently ran her hand up the side of the mare, looking up just for an instant as she came to the mare's back and winked at Rose before running her hand up the mare's neck to give a gentle scratch behind a pointed ear.

All Rose could think of was how lucky her horse was to have Critter's hands rubbing along her flesh. She blushed and looked down at her hands that held two brushes that were grooming gentle arcs in the horse's hair. She chanced a glance up at Critter who was talking to the mare who seemingly bobbed her head up and down at something Critter had asked.

"Well, I guess it's up to me to introduce you two then." Critter said with a broad smile as the mare pressed its nose into Critter's chest. "Rose, this here's Maxine."

Rose raised a single dark eyebrow at Critter, "Maxine?"

"Yep, and she prefers Maxine, so if you will please refrain from calling her Max, she would be most appreciative." Critter said with a wide smile.

"I'll remember that." Rose said as she moved her brushing up to the mare's neck, "Glad to meet you, Maxine. Sorry for the delay in introductions." Maxine's head bounced up and down and she whinnied showing her clean white teeth. "My apologies."

Critter smiled and nodded satisfied that she had accomplished her task of uniting rider and horse on more than a human and beast of burden relationship. She quietly walked back to the stall where her horse Loki waited patiently for his pampering. She was meticulous whiles brushing and cleaning the big stallion's coat from the tip of his nose to the bottom of his hooves. She heard Rose close Maxine's stall and looked up to see Rose leaning against the stall's wall where she was finishing up Loki's brush down.

"I'm sorry about this morning, I just never imagined running into you again, and then all I could think about was that you didn't try to contact me all those years ago, what happened?" Rose asked softly. It had taken a great deal of fortitude to ask the question.

Critter draped a quilted blanket over Loki's back and secured it. "I didn't have time to ask your mom where you went since your father fired my mom and dad almost as soon as you walked off the ranch. We ended up in Montana and just two months after that my folks were killed transporting some horses to Texas."

Rose felt her heart hammer hard in her chest, no wonder Critter hadn't tried to pursue her. "Gosh, I'm sorry Charlotte."

Critter shrugged, "Nothing to be sorry about, you didn't run em off the road."

Rose could have countered that she was the cause they were on the road to begin with but was grateful that Critter seemed unwilling to place that blame on her. "Still, it answers a lot of questions about why my letters came back undeliverable." She started to put pieces together in her head of those events. "My father was an asshole."

Critter cocked her head to the side as she waited for Rose to exit the stall so she could close the gate, "You won't get an argument out of me on that." She swung the wood gate closed and latched it. "I guess we should get Cook's once over before Champ gets back here."

They both walked limply to the kitchen where the elderly cook, Mrs. Maple, gave them the once over and berated their foolish antics unbefitting of two young ladies and sent Rose upstairs to get cleaned up and Critter back to her bunk house to do the same. She issued a final warning that supper was served at six, and whether or not they were present really didn't matter to her. When Critter asked if that was an invitation to supper with Rose at the main house the matronly woman had simply repeated 'Six O'clock.'

Critter went back to the bunkhouse, where she grabbed a quick shower and put on clean clothes. As she was getting ready to go, some of her comrades started questioning her. Critter explained that she was simply going to have dinner with Rose and nothing more. She found herself surrounded by a dozen or so cowhands eagerly listening as she told them her and Rose's story. By the end of the telling there wasn't a dry eye in the bunkhouse and they all wished her good luck as they walked her out the door and pushed her in the direction of the main house.

Rose stripped and sank into a hot tub, groaning as the water wrapped heat around her abused body. "What the hell am I thinking?" She asked the ceiling as she let her head rest against the edge of the old claw foot tub. "I'm going to kill myself playing cowgirl." Her eyes drifted shut as the water soothed away her pain. It only seemed like seconds had passed when a rapid knock came to the bathroom door and Mrs. Maple's commanding voice announced "Supper in five minutes."

Rose then noticed the tepid temperature of the bath water and realized that she must have fallen asleep. She hauled herself out of the tub, pulling the plug on her way up. She groaned as she made the first few steps to reach her towel, and dried herself and quickly dressed, but even with rushing she was the last seated at the small table in the kitchen. "Sorry," she said softly as she sat down gingerly.

"You've held everyone up." Mrs. Maple grumbled, "Lucky for you this wonderful young woman wouldn't start without you." The cook grabbed Rose's plate from in front of her and started filling it with food.

Rose looked across the table at Critter, "thanks for waiting."

"It's your house and your food, I just figured we could wait for you since you make it possible." Critter smiled.

Mrs. Maple scoffed, "You'd still be waiting to eat if she was in charge of cooking it!"

Rose blushed, "She's right, I'm only good at cooking breakfast." Rose said as she accepted her plate back from Mrs. Maple and gave the plate of roast and vegetables an appreciative sniff.

"So at least you'll never starve." Critter said handing her plate to Mrs. Maple.

"She needs to find a nice girl who can cook for her." Mrs. Maple said handing the plate back to Critter full of steaming pot roast. "Now she has many to choose from right here on the ranch."

Rose blushed again. When she'd arrived to take over the ranch, she had been expecting to face a staff full of bigots like her father, but soon found a very friendly and accepting group of people, that's to say those who remained of the ranch's staff after all the haters packed up and left. "Perhaps I can have you interview perspective suitors, Mrs. Maple."

The cook let out a sharp laugh, and then said, "I'd do a fine job of it, you would get the best of the lot for sure."

Critter frowned at her plate, she wondered if she would even be in the running as possible mate for the ranch owner.

"How about I start with this one here." Mrs. Maple said pointing her fork at Critter.

Rose shifted in her chair as she took a bit of roast off her fork and chewed it. She wondered if Critter would allow Mrs. Maple to question her.

Critter shrugged and speared a few pieces of carrot onto her fork, "I've got nothing to hide, but I want to make it clear, I didn't come here for a job. I thought I was answering a personal ad and I was disappointed that it wasn't legit."

Rose didn't know what to say. She hadn't even considered trying to find a girlfriend in the wilds of Wyoming, but now that she was literally surrounded by available lesbians and she couldn't think of any reason not to have someone to share her life with.

"Well then, should I proceed?" Mrs. Maple asked Rose with a twinkle in her brown eyes.

Rose swallowed the bite of food in her mouth and took a drink of her water before speaking. "It's fine with me." She tried not to be too excited to hear what Critter had to say, so she went back to her food.

"Very well then." Mrs. Maple took a couple bites of food, as she thought about her line of questioning. She finally set her fork down on the side of her plate and excused herself from the table for a moment.

"Are you sure you want to subject yourself to this?" Rose asked Critter.

Critter brought her green eyes up to look into Rose's clear blue eyes, "I came here to see if maybe we had a chance at something Rose, so if I need to get past Mrs. Maple to have that chance then I'll answer a million questions."

Rose's mouth hung half open. She was grateful that Mrs. Maple chose that moment to return to the table with pen and paper tablet in hand.

"Sorry, I just wanted to be able to keep track of the pros and cons." Mrs. Maple took two bites of roast and drank a bit of her coffee. "Now then." She looked at Critter, "Do you have any savings?"

"Holy cow, Mrs. Maple, what kind of question is that?" Rose asked shocked. There were just some things not asked in polite company.

Mrs. Maple waved Rose off and looked expectantly at Critter.

Critter blushed and dipped her head, "It's okay Rose, and it's a good question. I have about forty-one thousand in savings, I know it should be more at this point in life, but its been hard lately keeping work with all the big family owned places selling out to corporate machines."

Mrs. Maple placed her hand over Critter's and patted it, "Isn't that the truth, dear. I was worried that this one over here" she pointed at Rose, "wasn't going to take over this place and I would be out of job. I've been here for thirty-seven years, I wouldn't even know where to begin again."

"I would have taken care of you, Mrs. Maple. We're like family." Rose said seriously, she had thought about selling the ranch, but something deep inside her knew it would have been devastating, not just to the people who worked the ranch, but it felt like selling off a bit of her soul.

"You're a good girl, Rose Grant. Your father was a fool." Mrs. Maple said before turning back to Critter. "That's a respectable amount of money, Charlotte. Your folks would be proud." She scribbled a few notes on her note pad then looked back up at her interviewee. "What are your long term plans?"

Critter looked across the table at Rose, "I'd like to settle down, have a home and a family."

"Ooh, that's a good answer." Mrs. Maple made some more notes. "Now, what is your idea of a romantic evening?"

Critter still held Rose's gaze, "Quiet time, walks, just sitting. I like simple things."

"So do I." Rose said softly. She felt a pleasant buzz travel up her spine at the thought of spending some time with Critter.

"You stay quiet over there." Mrs. Maple admonished Rose with a level glare.

"Sorry." Rose said but she couldn't help the small smile that appeared as she looked at Critter.

Mrs. Maple smiled also. She knew she didn't need to look further than Charlotte Johnson, but it wasn't going to stop her from asking a few more questions. "Charlotte, are you a good girl?"

Critter looked at Mrs. Maple, "I'm not sure what you mean?"

"I mean, are you a good girl, have you practiced unsafe?"

"Mrs. Maple!" Rose shouted with a slap of her hand to the tabletop.

Critter was a bright red.

"Now calm down." Mrs. Maple urged Rose, "You need to know if your perspective mate is at risk of giving you some nasty disease."

Critter cleared her throat, "Although I am not a virgin, I can say that I've never partook in risky sexual behavior. I'd be happy to get a blood test."

"That's an excellent idea." Mrs. Maple said with a toothy smile, "Rose should get one also, that way we're all above board. Don't you agree, Rose?"

Rose could only sit in stunned silence. Somewhere the evening had gone terribly wrong. She stood up from the table mumbled her excuses and walked out the kitchen door, grabbing her jacket on the way.

"Oh dear." Mrs. Maple said suddenly worried her bit of fun had gone too far.

"It's okay, Mrs. Maple, I'll go check on her." Critter wiped her mouth on her napkin and left the table, following after Rose through the back door. She had to break into a light jog to catch up with Rose, whose longer legs carried her along much more quickly than Critter's. She caught up with Rose just as she reached the corner of the stable. "Slow down will you, sheesh your legs were always longer than mine."

Rose slowed and then came to a stop resting her back against the stable's exterior wall. "I'm sorry she did that, Critter."

"She didn't mean any harm, it was a fair question of a possible suitor."

"Are you? I mean, after all this time can you still be interested in me?" Rose asked, her breath coming out in foggy wisps in the cold November air.

Critter scratched the back of her own neck and she looked at the surrounding area. "Do you know what happened the last time we were in this particular spot?" She took a few small steps forward getting very close to Rose. "I was against the stable like you are now, and your hands were?" She placed her hands on Rose's hips smiling as Rose took a shaky breath, "?well they were someplace a tad more intimate than this." She squeezed Rose's sides for emphasis, "And your beautiful lips were?" She found herself cut off as Rose demonstrated exactly where her lips were the last time they were alone.

Rose felt possessed as she spun Critter around and pressed her against the stable wall. She worked her hands up under Critter's shirt, moaning as she found the swell of Critter's breast. She broke the kiss and looked into Critter's half closed eyes. "I've dreamed of doing this for twelve years." She gently squeezed the soft flesh under her palms her cool skin warming against Critter's breast. She leaned forward again and pressed her lips softly against Critter's mouth.

Critter arched her back to press her breast more fully into Rose's hands as Rose's tongue danced across her lips sending luscious shivers down her spine to settle heavily between her legs. She opened her lips and accepted Rose's soft tongue into her mouth. She gathered Rose's shirt in her fist and pulled and pushed until she had one of Rose's thighs pressed against her sex. She let out a long moan into Rose's mouth as the taller woman pressed forward. She broke away from the kiss and clutched Rose close to her as a desperate rhythm developed between them.

Rose shifted slightly so she was against Critter's hip. Her forehead rested against the rough wood planking of the stable as their breath clouded the cold air. They hardly made a noise, no words were exchanged as first Critter stilled rigidly against her, holding her breath for a long moment while Rose continued her dance against Critter's hip for just a few more hard thrusts and let out a long breath as she found her release. Critter's breathing returned to her slowly as Rose backed away just a bit to look into Critter's eyes.

"That was unexpected." Critter whispered letting her head fall forward against Rose's chest.

Rose placed her hand on the back of Critter's head, her fingers played in the short blonde locks, "and unexpected is probably the best word. Are you okay?" She felt Critter's head nod against her, "We can't stand here all night." Rose said as the chill of the evening started to creep in around them.

"Can I? would you?" Critter found it hard to ask for the only thing she wanted since laying eyes on Rose the day before.

"Come on." Rose stepped away taking Critter's hand in her own, she wrapped her fingers around Critter's palm. "You'll stay with me tonight."

"What will Mrs. Maple say?" Critter asked wrapping her free hand around Rose's arm as they walked back to the main house.

"I don't care what she says." Rose smiled to herself as Critter's head fell against her shoulder. "She started it anyway." They quietly entered the house through the front door and made it up the stairs without incident and tipped- toed across the old wood floor, a floorboard squeaked under her left foot and she cringed, "Fuck me." This of course sent her partner in crime into a fit of giggles and Rose into a series of hushing noises as she tried to quiet Critter down. Then Mrs. Maple's voice came up the stairwell.

"Rose? Is that you?"

Rose stomped her feet and pumped her fist in the air as a stream of obscenities flew from her lips. She walked to the banister and looked over the edge down into the foyer and smiled a little too friendly at Mrs. Maple below. Critter continued her soft uncontrolled giggles. "Yes, Mrs. Maple, I'm just going to bed."

Mrs. Maple looked up at her with a distressed gaze, "I'm certainly sorry for?"

Rose waved her hand over the banister, "Don't worry about it, I was being silly." Rose nearly yelped and actually jumped a bit as Critter's hand caressed her backside. She regained her composure and quickly said her goodnight to Mrs. Maple, "I'll see you in the morning, and sleep well, Mrs. Maple."

"Good night to you too, Rose, I had one of the boys lay in some extra wood up there for you, it's suppose to be cold this evening. I wish you a peaceful night." Mrs. Maple said and then turned and disappeared out of sight.

Rose stepped away from the banister and pinned Critter with a serious glare. "You almost got us caught."

Critter smiled crookedly and said, "What would it have mattered, if you haven't noticed, we're adults."

A smile slowly crept onto Rose's lips, "Oh I noticed." She grabbed up Critter's hand and pulled her into her bedroom, shutting the door behind them and then pinning one feisty blonde cowgirl against it, "I very much want to explore this adult body you've grown into." Rose said as she leaned forward and kissed Critter's neck while she shucked off her coat.

Critter struggled out of her own coat, dropping it to the floor. She helped Rose free her arms from her jacket and then pushed Rose backwards to the bed where they landed with a squeak and squawk of old bed springs protesting the sudden weight. Critter broke into another fit of giggles, "Please tell me that Mrs. Maple lives in one of the other ranch houses."

Rose bounced up and down on the bed causing the springs to sing their song, "What would it matter? We're both adults." She said as she rolled Critter off to one side of her to land softly on the down mattress, the box springs sang out again.

"No wonder we never made out up here when we were kids." Critter's green eyes glowed softly in the warm light that the small fireplace produced.

Rose reached out and brushed some shaggy bangs away from Critter's face, "Can you imagine what my father would have done? He probably would have beaten me to a pulp for desecrating his house."

"I wish he would have been different." Critter said draping her arm over Rose's hip. "You didn't deserve any of the shit he put you through, and your mom?"

"She did the best she could, I don't blame her. He would have done more than whip me with that belt of his if she hadn't stepped between us that day." Rose said cuddling closer to Critter. "Let's not talk about that anymore. We're here now." She hooked her fingers in the waistband of Critter's jeans. "How about you get out of these clothes and I'll get you something more comfortable." She rolled off the bed and began pulling off her own clothes as she stumbled to the dresser. She tossed her shirt onto a nearby chair and pushed her jeans down her legs. She pulled her boots and jeans off one leg at a time as she pulled out the top dresser drawer. Rose rummaged around until she found two soft t-shirts. She hooked her toes of one foot in the top of a sock and pulled it down, and then repeated the operation on the other sock. She heard soft laughter come from behind her and spun around to scowl at Critter who was still lounging fully clothed on the bed. "And what may I ask do you find so funny?"

Critter let her laughter wind down and simply smiled at Rose, "If this is how you get undressed all the time, I want to secure front row seats for life."

Rose blushed and rolled her eyes, she turned back around and shucked off her bra, "Well I'm at least ready for bed." She pulled one of the t-shirts over her head and turned around once again and tossed the other t-shirt at Critter who snagged it out of the air.

Critter stood and walked toward Rose. She slowly unbuttoned her shirt as she approached. Critter's smile had turned from humorous to seductive as she opened her shirt to reveal a bare chest. She unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, letting them hang open and loose around her slim hips. She came to a stop in front of Rose and took one of her hands in her own. "I am no where near ready for bed." Critter said as she placed Rose's hand on her stomach then pushed it down into her open jeans, gasping as Rose pushed her palm against her, letting one finger to slip into her wet sex.

"Oh." Rose said softly as she felt the proof of Critter's arousal.

Critter's eyes drifted closed as she dropped her shirt from her shoulders. She felt Rose's other hand work to push her jeans off her hips, and they slid down her legs and pooled around her ankles.

Rose pulled her hand away from Critter's mound and pushed her back to the bed where she pulled Critter's boots, socks, and jeans off, creating a messy pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. She stood up straight and pulled her newly donned t-shirt over her head and pushed her panties off. Now she was as naked as Critter and was eager to feel her flesh against the blonde's. "Lay back." She commanded softly.

Critter did as asked and was plunged into bliss as Rose covered her with her long frame. "Christ in a hand basket." She exclaimed wrapping her arms around Rose's back.

Rose sighed as she settled against Critter. It was simply the most exquisite feeling she could remember, "Not to heavy?"

"No. Wonderfully perfect." Critter's right foot stroked up the side and then the back of Rose's calf. "I love your legs. They're so long and strong."

Rose smiled and slipped one of her thighs between Critter's legs. "You like 'em huh?"

Critter moaned, "I like your hands, too." Critter hinted as to what she desired.

Rose smiled as she shifted a little and brought her hand to where it had been just moments before. She hid her face against Critter's neck and placed a kiss there as her fingers gently parted Critter's folds and slid easily across slick flesh. "You're so wet."

"Inside, Rose, please? inside."

Rose complied and eased one long finger inside Critter.

"This is going to be another quick one." Critter said between gasps as she moved with Rose's ministrations.

"Let it come." Rose said softly before kissing Critter's slightly opened lips.

Critter shuttered and stiffened under her. "Oh gosh, Rose."

Rose smiled and kissed Critter softly. "You're beautiful when you come." She gently removed her hand from between Critter's soft folds.

Critter jumped as Rose brushed across her clit, "Easy."

Rose smiled, "Sorry."

"No you're not." Critter said with her own smile as she took a shaky deep breath and scrubbed her fingers through her hair. "I can't believe we finally got to do this!" She exclaimed before tumbling Rose off her and peppering every inch of flesh available to her with soft wet kisses. She gently reached between Rose's legs and let her fingers dance in the dark curls she found there. "I've dreamt of this for so long." She let her hand finally drift lower as she bent to take the nearest nipple into her mouth.

Rose moaned long as Critter's fingers finally slipped into her wetness. She clutched at Critter's back with one hand and tangled her fingers into Critter's short hair with the other. She pressed Critter's head closer to her breast and had to take in a sharp breath as Critter gently bit down on her nipple as she slipped inside her at the same time. Critter seemed to instinctively know what she wanted, which turned out to be a good thing as she seemed to have lost the ability to talk.

Rose kept her breathing as even as possible as she let the pleasure build, until she found herself shaking uncontrollably and falling over the edge, coming in a soft cry.

"I got you." Critter said gathering Rose close to her. "I'm not letting you go this time, ever."

"Better not." Rose said as she regained some of her composure. She cuddled up to Critter and felt warm and safe as she drifted off to sleep.

Mrs. Maple bustled about the kitchen at four am. She was trying to get breakfast ready for Rose before the woman set out for her morning chores. What she wasn't expecting was the two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs accompanied by two different giggles. Mrs. Maple's first thought was that she hadn't cooked enough breakfast for two, she was so accustomed to just cooking for Rose. She scrambled to retrieve more of everything from the refrigerator as Rose and critter stumbled into the kitchen in a fit of laughter that ended abruptly as they were caught in the steely gaze of Mrs. Maple, "You should give an old woman the courtesy of telling her you have a guest for breakfast."

Critter cringed at Mrs. Maple tone of voice, "I apologize, Mrs. Maple, we didn't mean to cause you any trouble." She said with what she hoped was a conciliatory smile.

"You don't need to apologize, Charlotte." Mrs. Maple said with a wave of her hand and then looked directly at Rose, "It's this one here's fault."

"I'm sorry Mrs. Maple. I'll do better next time." Rose said with her head bowed.

"I should think so. Now sit your butts down, the morning won't wait on you." Mrs. Maple smiled sweetly and then turned back to her work. She had just began to break eggs into the hot skillet when the back screen door creaked open, followed by the heavier wooden door swinging inward allowing Champ to enter the warm kitchen. She frowned as she cracked another two eggs, "Is anyone else coming to breakfast?"

Rose looked between Critter and Champ, "I don't think so Mrs. Maple, is there anything I can do to help with breakfast?"

"No, no. I've got it, although it would be easier if I could get an accurate head count ahead of time." Mrs. Maple groused as she set about cooking one more portion.

Champ hung his coat on the back of a kitchen chair and settled into it. He then looked at the two women sitting beside each other with a raised eyebrow that caused simultaneous blushes to rise on their cheeks. It was amazing how much information one could gather with a mere look. "We need to separate the heifers and get the old ladies to cover."

Rose nodded in understanding.

"How many head?" Critter asked.

"We have ninety with first calves, I want to get them fed up for the winter. The old ladies will go to the Merry Gulch, followed by the main herd. It would be best to get them all out there before winter drops in."

Critter nodded, "How many in the main herd?"

"Nine thousand." Rose said with pride. They were not the largest ranch in operation, but they had a high quality heard.

"I don't remember there being that many when we were kids." Critter said.

Rose smiled as she explained, "Champ pointed out that we could expand if we were to invest in the grasslands along the Tanner Branch River."

Champ nodded, "Your father was against the expansion, not wanting to hire the extra hands it would take to manage the bigger herd."

"That man?" Mrs. Maple tsked from her place at the stove.

"Stubborn was what he was. But that's the past. We can set that aside now and move forward." Champ said not wanting to speak any further about his former boss. "So, Critter, do you feel like you can handle teaching Rose how to drive?"

Critter looked at her lover with narrow eyes. "I dunno she's sure green in the saddle."

Rose frowned, "I've been getting as much practice as possible, I feel like my ass is going to fall off."

Champ chuckled, "You're just about ready then to be initiated into the brother and sisterhood of cowpokes."

Critter couldn't believe how normal the situation felt. She had great respect for Champ Broody. He had been a close friend of her mom and dad's, and had gone through great measures to keep in contact with her after their deaths. Mrs. Maple had been the Grant's cook since before she was born. The 120 Mile Ranch had been the only home she had known until she was fifteen, then everything had come crashing down. After Rose left the ranch, her parents were fired and left the ranch, as well, and then their tragic death when she was just seventeen. Now here she was, back on the One-Two-Oh, sitting at a breakfast table with Rose, and talking amicably about ranching. She was finally home.

"Hey."

Critter looked at Rose and smiled. "Hey."

"You kind of left us for a moment there." Rose said taking Critter's hand in her own.

"I was just reminiscing." Critter said.

"Well it's time to wake up and eat breakfast." Mrs. Maple announced setting a bounty of food on the table.

After a hearty breakfast filled with laughter and good food, Critter returned to the bunkhouse to get ready for the day. The women she shared the bunkhouse with were up milling about, most in various states of undress. She weaved her way through the women toward her bunk and locker. And then it started, at first it was just one set of hands clapping, but then it continued to build until the entire bunkhouse was applauding her. She blushed hard as they pressed in around her slapping her on the back and tousling her hair. She took it all in stride as her comrades continued their good nature ribbing.

"Okay, okay, everyone quite down!" A voice boomed from within the crowd and the women slowly complied. "We want to hear all the details!" The group erupted in a burst of agreement.

Critter raised her hands and hushed those around her, and after they were all quiet she smiled at them as said. "I do not kiss and tell. So you'll all just have to use your imagination!"

There was a collective moan of disappointment. "I will say this though?" She waited for them all to fall quiet once again, "?Mrs. Maple cooks a mean breakfast!" She found herself being tackled by several cowgirls, who took it upon themselves to tickle her until she threatened to pee on them if they didn't stop their commotion. Her friends relented and the bunkhouse returned to the morning routine of getting ready for a day on the ranch.

Critter stripped out of her clothes from the day before and headed to the shower. It was going to be a busy day. In actuality, it was Critter's favorite time to be on a ranch. She liked the excitement and the challenge. Soon winter would be upon them and the work would be mundane. She could still hardly believe her good fortune to be working again at the 120 Mile Ranch.

Rose couldn't think of a time that she had ever been so cold, sore, and blissfully happy in her life. It took three weeks to get all the cattle sorted and driven to the Merry Gulch. The northern ridge and western rise of the gulch would keep the heard safe from most of the winter storms that would soon be dumping snow and ice. She watched in satisfaction as the last of the heard was driven into the gulch. Critter was bringing up the rear while whistling and waving a coiled length of rope in short arcs in the air to encourage a few stragglers along.

Champ rode up beside Rose and tipped his hat, "That's the last of 'em, all that's left to do is feed them and bust open the watering holes when they freeze."

"I'll work on a schedule." Rose said absently as Critter passed them giving Rose a wink and smile.

Champ watched the interaction between the two women with a smile of his own. "So you don't need any drama, huh? You two have been awfully friendly this last month, Mrs. Maple says that the Critter has been at breakfast every morning since that first time. Is this a serious situation?"

Rose looked annoyed, "We're just getting to know each other again."

Champ nodded, "Do you love her?"

Rose looked at the object of their discussion as she rode toward them. "I don't have an answer for that question yet."

Champ watched Rose's face transform from weary to joyous in a matter of seconds as Critter came to a stop to Rose's right. Champ figured that even though Rose couldn't answer his question with words, she answered it with the pure look of love toward Critter. He would have to share his observations with Mrs. Maple over evening coffee.

Critter pushed her Stetson back on her head and looked over her shoulder at the milling herd behind her, "That's that." She said before tuning back in her saddle to look at Rose. "How about we go into town and have dinner as a celebration?"

"Like a real date?" Rose asked excited about the idea.

"Sure. We'll dress up and everything. I'll pick you up at six." Critter said with a smile.

Rose thought about going on a date. It would be nice to be off the ranch for a bit. There didn't seem to be a soul on the place that didn't know about her and Critter and it was becoming more and more claustrophobic as the days passed. "Okay, let's do it." She nodded, "I'll be ready at six."

Critter was about at her wits end. She had made it back to the bunkhouse after stabling her horse for the evening only to discover that she had no suitable clothing for an evening out with Rose. The entire house came to her rescue with various donations, the only problem was that she was much shorter than most of the other women and most of the clothes simply made her look like a little kid playing dress-up. She looked at herself in one of the old framed floor mirrors that dotted the bunkhouse, "I look twelve." She threw her hands up in the air. The black trousers were cuffed at least four times, the white western cut shirt's sleeves were rolled into thick cuffs, and the borrowed silver bolo hung down past her waist. "I'm not going." Critter said and sulked off to her bunk where she laid down and curled up.

Brenda Marx, the recently elected bunkhouse leader, walked over and sat on the edge of Critter's bunk. She placed her hand on Critter's back and rubbed small circles. "Come on, little bit, Rose will be waiting for you." Critter's head shook back and forth and Brenda thought she heard a sniffle. Brenda gave Critter's back a little pat before standing and moving to the concerned group of women waiting near by. She thought for a moment before reaching out and pulling the nearest cowgirl to her by her shirt front. "I want you to go find Mrs. Maple, tell her what's going on and that we need her help." She received a solid nod and a sloppy salute before the woman ran to do her bidding. She addressed the rest of the waiting group. "Just every one else calm down and let's see if Mrs. Maple can help." There were mumbles of agreement as the group broke apart and drifted off to other distractions as they all waited for the wise ranch matriarch to arrive.

Mrs. Maple looked at the young woman who was rattling off some story about Charlotte, Rose, a date, and much too large clothes. She tried to process all the information as the girl finally stood silent looking expectantly at her. She held up a finger in the air, "Just a moment, I need to think."

Mrs. Maple walked the long screened porch where she had been folding linens out of the dryer. She gathered that Charlotte had a date with Rose - dinner in the city - and she had no proper clothing, but that the girls had tried to help remedy the situation. The help provided was inadequate and now Charlotte had made a rash decision not to keep the date with Rose. Mrs. Maple turned toward the cowgirl waiting on the porch, "Let's go." She pulled her sweater a bit closer as she followed the cowgirl across the ranch's main yard to the row of bunkhouses that served as home for the many hardworking ranch hands.

She had only been to a bunkhouse on the occasion that one of the men were ill and needed lunch delivered, and she always had dreaded those trips. Entering a bunkhouse full of men was always unpleasant, the smell and the mess were constants. Mrs. Maple found herself pleasantly surprised as she walked through the door of the women's bunkhouse. It was well lit, smelled fresh and clean, and was even comfortable arranged. They had found some rag rugs to cover most of the plank flooring, and there were several women working amicably in the kitchen area preparing the evening meal. Although Mrs. Maple cooked lunch for the entire ranch population, the hands were left to their own devices for breakfast and dinner.

Mrs. Maple was led to Charlotte's bunk where she found Charlotte curled up on her side sniffling. "Is this anyway for a hardened cowgirl to act?" She asked loudly placing her hands on her hips.

Critter rolled over and looked at Mrs. Maple, "I don't even have decent clothes to wear, how can Rose possibly want me?"

"Nonsense. Now get up and come with me, I think I have just the thing for you to wear." Mrs. Maple bent and grabbed Charlotte's arm and pulled her up from the bed.

"I don't want to hurt you feelings, Mrs. Maple, but I don't think you could possibly have anything I could borrow." Critter said looking pointedly at the older woman's round figure.

Mrs. Maple stopped in her stride, "Well there's no reason to be rude, Charlotte. If you don't want my help that's fine with me." She dropped Charlotte's hand and kept walking toward the door only to be stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"Wait! I'm sorry. I do want your help, but I don't think there's enough time for me to get ready," Critter said sadly.

Mrs. Maple looked at her watch, "We have nearly half an hour, that should be plenty of time, but you have to come with me now. Do you trust me?"

Critter nodded her head quickly, "I trust you completely."

"Good. Now come on." Mrs. Maple once again picked up Charlotte's hand and marched her across the ranch compound.

Critter soon found herself ushered into Mrs. Maple's small cottage that sat just behind the big ranch house. She was dragged up the stairs and commanded to strip out of her clothes as Mrs. Maple disappeared into a closet.

Mrs. Maple perused a row of well-kept suits hanging in see-through bags. She picked a light-gray wool suit cut in the western style that was popular forty years prior, but with the way old fashions were now once again being worn, the suit would look thoroughly modern. She exited the closet, "I think this will do." She laid the suit bag out on the bed.

Critter had just finished taking off the last of the donated clothes from her house mates as Mrs. Maple crossed to a chest of drawers and pulled out a white shirt wrapped in plastic. Critter stood in her underwear and socks, nervously shifting from one foot to the next as Mrs. Maple unwrapped the shirt and shook it out.

"Here put this on first." Mrs. Maple instructed handing the shirt to Charlotte. She then went to the bed and unzipped the suit bag.

Critter pulled the crisp white shirt on finding it nearly a perfect fit. The sleeves were just a smidge too long, but would probably look fine once the cuffs were closed. A pair of gray wool pants was handed to her next. She pulled them on and was pleased to find their length to be spot on. She hooked and zipped them closed after neatly tucking her shirt away. She turned and looked at herself in the mirror.

Mrs. Maple smiled, "Your just about exactly the same size as my Bob."

Critter smiled at Mrs. Maple's reflection in the mirror as she adjusted her shirt and the waistband of the pants. Mrs. Maple took each of her sleeves and affixed small silver cufflinks in each cuff. Critter raised one of her wrists up to look at the square silver links, it was engraved with the number 120.

"Bob had those made after being on the ranch for ten years. I always thought they were handsome." Mrs. Maple said as she held up the suit jacket and helped Charlotte into it. "There, that's a good fit, and the gray lets the green of your eyes shine bright. Just a couple more things and you'll be all set."

Critter adjusted the suit jacket on her shoulders and experimentally buttoned it closed. That was when she noticed how tailored the suit actually was. It did not hang on her like a man's suit at all. In fact it looked like it had been cut just for her. "Mrs. Maple? Bob wouldn't have been short for Roberta was it?" She asked as she examined her reflection in the mirror. She turned to find Mrs. Maple exiting the closet with a pair of boots in one hand a white cowboy hat it the other.

Mrs. Maple smiled and shook her head up and down a little. "We met in high school, it was love at first sight." She handed Charlotte the boots and watched as the girl sat on the edge of the bed and pulled them on, and adjusting the suits pant legs over the tops of each boot.

Critter stood and stomped her feet into each black boot. She then looked up at Mrs. Maple, "I had no idea."

Mrs. Maple smiled and blushed, "Well it's not like your generation discovered lesbianism, dear." She went to the chest of drawers and opened a box on top. She pulled a thin black ribbon out of the box and approached a now blushing Charlotte Johnson. "Lift your chin."

Critter stood still while Mrs. Maple tied a neat a neat bow around her collar. She was then spun back toward the mirror as Mrs. Maple place the white hat on her head.

"There. A cowgirl any woman would want to be seen with in public." Mrs. Maple said stepping back to take in her handy work.

Critter smiled at her reflection. "Thank you, Mrs. Maple, it's perfect." She quickly turned and gathered the older woman in a tight hug.

"Now, now. Don't go wrinkling my hard work." Mrs. Maple scolded softly before pushing Charlotte away, "You need to get going, Rose is waiting for you."

Critter leaned closer to Mrs. Maple and placed a quick kiss on the older woman's cheek before silently turning, and then bounding down the stairs and out the front door.

Mrs. Maple sat down on the edge of the bed with her hand to her cheek where Charlotte had kissed her. She smiled to herself and sighed, she decided she would get some of the girls to help her carry some of Bob's things over to the bunkhouse for Charlotte to have, at least that way someone would be getting some good use out of them. The decision made her happy and she set about to make it happen.

Critter made it to the front porch of the main ranch house after a brief detour to retrieve her wallet and truck keys. She made sure her tie and jacket were straight before pulling the cord to the doorbell. She stepped away from the door as it was quickly opened, revealing Rose on the other side of the screened storm door. "Six o'clock." She said softly with a smile.

"Right on time." Said Rose with a smile pushing through the screen door and pulling the heavy solid door closed behind her. She looked Critter up and down and smiled, "Wow, you clean up nice."

Critter smiled as she took in Rose's navy blue dress that came mid calf on her long legs, and sleeves that just reached her elbows. The collar was distinctly Mandarin with a gold braided closure. The little braided buttons continued down the front of the dress to just before the hem. Rose carried an embroidered shawl draped over one arm. "I can say the same for you. Definitely wow." She smiled.

Rose pulled a set of car keys out of her purse and dangled them in front of Critter, "We'll take my car. God only knows what's on the seat of that jalopy of yours."

"It's a work truck, what do you expect?" Critter retorted taking Rose's hand in her own.

"Tonight I expect soft seats and a heated interior." Rose said steering them toward the garage. "And I expect you to drive." She tossed the keys at Critter who snagged them expertly from the air.

Critter watched as Rose got into the passenger side of the black BMW parked in the garage. She smiled to herself, "I can drive this, no problem." She opened the driver's side door and got in behind the wheel. As her hands landed on the leather covered steering wheel, she let out a long whistle and then said, "Nice."

"Glad you approve." Rose said, "Now on to town, I want dinner."

The fourteen-mile car ride to Grant's Pass was quick with simple conversation and soft touches. Critter couldn't get over how wonderful and empowered she felt. She had dated and been with other women in her life, but she had never felt more complete. She pulled up in front of a very non-descript building just off the town square.

Rose peered out the window at the building. "Um, Critter? This appears to be no place."

Critter laughed then said, "Oh, it's someplace. Come on, I guarantee you're going to love it." She exited the car and walked around to the passenger side to offer her hand to Rose.

Rose smirked as she took Critter's hand and stood. "My aren't we butch tonight."

Critter smiled. "All just part of the total Critter Johnson dating service, ma'am," she said, closing the car door and guiding Rose to the solid brown door that sat in the middle of the building. She pulled the door open and ushered Rose inside.

Rose knew she must have gasped as she covered her mouth. They had just stepped into a very well appointed restaurant. "I didn't expect this."

"Best kept secret in Grant's Pass." Critter said as she pulled Rose up to the Maitre d's podium. She smiled at the man, "Hey, Steve."

"Charlotte!"

Rose watched as Critter was literally accosted by Steve. She stifled a giggle as Critter was inspected from head to toe.

"I never imagined you could be cleaned up to the point of preciousness." Steve said running his finger's through Critter's hair to order it to his satisfaction. He looked over Critter's shoulder at the tall dark haired woman smiling lovingly at his friend. "And who is this lovely creature?" Steve let Critter go and stepped in front of Rose.

"This is Rose Grant." Critter introduced.

"The Rose Grant?" Steve asked wide-eyed.

"The one and only." Critter said coming to stand next to Rose.

Steve extended his hand toward Rose, "I'm honored to meet you, and welcome to my place."

Rose accepted Steve's hand and shook it. "Why haven't I ever heard of this place?" She asked looking past Steve into the dining room. There were few empty tables and she could hear a small band playing somewhere out of her sight.

Steve took her hand and pulled her through the opening that led to the dining room proper, "Well let's just say that the locals don't appreciate eating in the same restaurant with Sally and Suzie making googly eyes at each other. So my partner and I started this little place." Steve waved a hand to indicate the dining room.

Rose nodded her understanding as they weaved in and out of the tables. She tried not to openly stare at the other patrons, but found herself recognizing quite a few couples. "I had no idea."

"Well we are the only confirmed gay friendly eatery in a hundred mile radius. We also have the best food in Northern Wyoming and draw quite the crowd of gourmet food lovers." Steve said stopping at a secluded table. "Here you go ladies, I'll send your server right over."

Rose took her seat and continued to look over the patrons, "Oh my God! That's Phillip Macy." She pointed past Critter's shoulder, "He was such a hater when we were kids."

Critter twisted just a bit to get a look at the man who had tormented so many kids when they were all younger. "Huh, well you know what they say about those that protest the loudest." She said turning back around, "Enough staring at the gay wildlife. We're here for a romantic dinner." Critter accepted a menu from the newly arrived waiter.

"Point taken." Rose set about the task of settling in for a nice evening with Critter, to heck with the rest of the world.

The dinner was perfect, and Rose had never felt more comfortable sharing a meal with a lover. The car ride back to the ranch was filled with laughter and reminiscing. Rose played with the short hairs at the back of Critter's neck making occasional trips to outline a well-formed ear.

"If you don't stop that, we're going to crash." Critter said with a grin.

"You better not, I have plans when we get home." Rose said seductively.

"Home?" Critter asked.

"Isn't it? I mean you are planning to stay? with?" Rose pulled her hand away from Critter's neck and retreated away to sit close to her car door where she stared out at the dark landscape passing by.

Critter sighed as she pulled onto the main road of the One Two Oh. She pulled the car in front of the house and stopped. She turned the car off and pulled the keys from the ignition. "Rose."

"It's alright, I just thought?" Rose couldn't finish putting words to her thoughts afraid it would make it true. She opened her car door and exited the car.

Critter cursed under her breath, this was not how the evening was supposed to end. She quickly got out of the car and hurried to catch up with Rose, meeting her on the porch. "Rose, wait."

Rose was afraid to look at Critter, tears had already started to fall down her cheeks, but she stopped and stared at the big wooden door. She waited for Critter to have her say.

Critter reached her hand out and placed it softly on Rose's back. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that when you said home, it hit me that I really want this to be it for me. I want this to be my home, our home." She took a deep breath, "I'm in love with you Rose Grant. Deeply, madly, honestly in love."

Rose's tears suddenly turned from sorrow to joy as she heard Critter's declaration. She quickly turned around and gathered Critter in a crushing hug, "And I'm in love with you Charlotte Johnson. Deeply, madly, and honestly in love with you." She leaned down and sealed her statement with a slow kiss.

Critter melted into Rose. She felt her heart open up; it was the most exquisite feeling in the entire world.

Rose pulled away to look down into Critter's tear stained face. "So, are you coming up?"

A smile spread to Critter's face. "Only if I don't ever have to leave."

Rose wrapped her hand in Critter's and turned toward the door. "Well the ad did require you to teach me how to rope, I don't think we've covered that - or branding either, for that matter. And I'm not a quick learner, so I suppose you better move your stuff in here so we can practice all the time."

Critter laughed, "I'll get my stuff in the morning. I wouldn't want to shirk on my responsibilities."

Rose pulled Critter through the front door and then kicked it closed behind her, dragging Critter up the stairs.

In the kitchen, Champ Broody and Mrs. Maple sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee. They listened in silence as the two sets of footsteps walked across the floor and into the room right above the kitchen. They both rolled their eyes as the squawk and squeak of old box springs sang out.

"Do they do anything else?" Champ asked looking up at the ceiling.

Mrs. Maple blushed, "They're young and in love, it hasn't occurred to them to do anything else. Now you owe me a hundred dollars, Mr. Broody."

Champ smiled as he reached for his wallet. "I should know better than to dare you to do something, Bobbi always warned me that you never backed down, and you never lost."

Mrs. Maple counted the five twenties that Champ handed her, already thinking of how she would spend the money at the general store in Grant's Pass. "You should've listened to her. I told you that ad would work."

Champ stood and crossed to the coffee pot where he refilled his cup. The bedsprings sang above once again and giggles filtered down through the floorboards. "Money well spent." He said as he went back to the table.

The old friends ignored the sounds coming from above them as they continued their conversation. It was a perfect evening for friends? and lovers.

End

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joshjacksons · 3 years ago

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Joshua Jackson interview with "Mr Porter" (2021)

Minutes before Mr Joshua Jackson joins me in a booth for a Friday afternoon drink at a vibey hotel bar in Santa Monica, he’s confronted by his past. Or rather, a woman in her early twenties who is binge-watching Dawson’s Creek, the teen show about a close-knit group of high-school friends coming of age in a sleepy American town, which made Jackson incredibly famous between 1998 and 2003. The series, which also made household names of Ms Michelle Williams and Ms Katie Holmes, went off air 18 years ago, but is now streaming on Netflix, to the bemusement of Jackson, who played lovable rogue Pacey Witter. “This girl was like, ‘Are you...?’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, I am. He got old. I’m sorry to break it to you,’” he says, before ordering an iced tea and a charcuterie board to tide him over until dinner time. “It always surprises me when young people say they’ve just got into Dawson’s Creek. I’m like, ‘Is it a costume drama to you? Do you feel like you’re watching a historical documentary?’”

The idea of a Friends-style reunion episode or a Sex And The City revival feels equally far-fetched to Canadian-born Jackson, now 43 and wearing it well in a pale green linen shirt and tailored linen trousers by Oliver Spencer that complement his fading brown hair and Cali-tanned skin.

“I don’t know why you’d want to [bring it back],” he says. “Nobody needs to know what those characters are doing in middle age. We left them in a nice place. Nobody needs to see that Pacey’s back hurts. I don’t think we need that update.”

And Jackson doesn’t need Dawson’s Creek. From Mr JJ Abrams’ sci-fi series Fringe (2008-2013) to the Golden Globe award-winning The Affair (2014-2019), from Ms Ava DuVernay’s ground-breaking true-crime drama When They See Us (2019) to the recent Ms Reese Witherspoon and Ms Kerry Washington-produced Little Fires Everywhere (2020), he has commanded the small screen – with a collection of dynamic and diverse work – ever since.

His latest role as Mr Christopher Duntsch, the Texas surgeon convicted of gross malpractice when 33 of his patients were left seriously injured after he operated on them and two of them died, in chilling Peacock crime drama Dr Death, is only stepping his career up another gear.

“I’ve never played anyone irredeemable before,” says Jackson, who is joined in the eight-part series (based on the 2018 Wondery podcast of the same name) by Messrs Christian Slater and Alec Baldwin. “He is charming, gregarious and has a high-level intellect, but he’s also a misogynist, probably a sociopath, certainly a narcissist and a complete incompetent who is incapable of seeing himself.”

If Duntsch is terrifying, then Jackson’s portrayal is even more so. The artist formerly known as Pacey is virtually unrecognisable (thanks to prosthetics) in the opening scene, but the real challenge for Jackson was allowing himself to view someone who is so “spectacularly evil” as a human being in order to walk in his shoes. “It’s a more damning portrayal of the man to make him into a human being, rather than just make him the bad guy,” he says. “He really believes he’s the hero, he’s the genius and that he’s the victim, so once I got past my own judgment, all the other things fell into place.”

Jackson might have his pick of stellar roles – and challenges – now, but it has not happened by accident. Take it from someone who has been in the business since landing his first job aged 14 in Disney’s live-action movie series The Mighty Ducks, opposite Brat Pack alumnus Mr Emilio Estevez.

“You try to make it look like it happens accidentally,” he says, “but there is no way to do this and not be ambitious. I’d say I’m extremely ambitious because I’ve been doing this cutthroat job for nearly 30 years. I’m in the pay-off phase of my career now. One of the benefits of surviving for as long as I have is you get to learn from your own mistakes.”

Such as? “I wouldn’t say, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that,’ because it all becomes bricks in a path, but [after Dawson’s Creek] I was not choosy enough about the things I was doing. You get stuck. You start trying to perform the performance you think people are hoping to see you do. I was so used to working all the time that I just worked all the time. There was definitely a conscious moment in my mid-twenties when I realised I wasn’t really enjoying the work that I was doing. My manager at the time just said, ‘Take a breath. You’re burnt out.’”

The turning point came in 2005, when Jackson was offered a role in the two-hander Mr David Mamet play A Life In The Theatre, opposite Sir Patrick Stewart. “God bless him, Patrick could have made my life miserable because I had no idea what I was doing, ” he says. “I hadn’t been on stage since I was a kid and now I was in the West End in over my head. But it reminded me that I actually enjoyed being an actor, that it’s not about the red carpet or travelling around the world. What I really enjoy is working on good material with good people.”

It’s no surprise Jackson’s time on Dawson’s Creek led to a career crisis. From the ages of 19 to 24, he lived with his fellow cast mates in Wilmington, North Carolina, filming day in, day out, in an arrangement he likens to college. “You get to the end and they’re like, ‘Here’s your degree. Go live now. You’re an adult. Go out into the world,’” he says.

But most graduates don’t have to deal with global fame. “It’s transitory. You’re only ever cool for a moment and then you become much less cool. I was always pretty dubious about flatterers,” he says, recalling a time he was stung in London in the mid-2000s. “I went on a date in Hyde Park with a woman whose name I will not use – she was socialite-famous – and she was acting completely bizarre, looking over her shoulder the whole time. I came to find out that she had hired a photographer to follow us through the park and gave a whole story to the tabloids about how I was going to meet her family.”

It was his growing fortune, rather than fame, that caused Jackson the most anxiety. “Suddenly, at 19 years old, I was making more in a week than most of my friends’ parents would make in a year,” he says. “It was lovely to have the money, but it was that feeling of nobody is worth that kind of money. You feel like a fraud and it took me a long time to forgive myself for not being the thing that I was perceived as.”

Born in Vancouver, but raised in Topanga, California, until he was eight (before moving back to Vancouver following his parents’ divorce), Jackson bought his childhood home in 2001 and lives in it today with his wife, British Queen & Slim actor Ms Jodie Turner-Smith, and their 15-month-old daughter.

“My father unfortunately was not a good father or a husband and exited the scene, but that house in Topanga was where everything felt simple, so it was a very healing thing for me to do,” he says. Fast-forward to 2021 and his baby daughter now sleeps in her father’s childhood bedroom. “There was a mural of a dragon on the wall in that room that I couldn’t believe was still there, years later. The owner [who sold him the house] said, ‘I knew it meant a lot to somebody and that they were going to come back for it some day.’”

Becoming a first-time parent during a pandemic sounds stressful, but it afforded Jackson months at home with his wife and child that his normal work schedule wouldn’t have allowed.

“I now recognise how perverse the way that we have set up our society is,” he says. “There is not a father I know who works a regular job who didn’t go back to the office a week later. It’s robbing that man of the opportunity to bond with his child and spend time with his partner.”

Despite his obvious career ambitions, fatherhood has changed Jackson’s priorities in “every possible way”, he says. “It’s 100 per cent changed how I approach my work and my life. That has been made so clear to me in this past year. For me to feel good about what I’m doing day to day, my family has to be the central focus.

“There are plenty of things left for me to do, but now the thing that gets me excited is experiencing the world through my daughter’s eyes. I can’t wait to take her scuba diving. I can’t wait to take her skiing. I can’t wait to read a great book with her. I’m not worried at all she’ll be a wallflower. She’s been a character from the word go.”

Jackson met Turner-Smith, 34, two days after his 40th birthday. He had been single since his 10-year relationship with German actress Ms Diane Kruger ended in 2016. “I was not looking to fall in love again or meet the mother of my child, but life has other plans for you,” he says.

The couple met at a party. Turner-Smith was wearing the same The Future Is Female Ejaculation T-shirt Ms Tessa Thompson’s character, Detroit, wears in the 2018 film Sorry To Bother You. “That’s what I used to break the ice. I shouted, ‘Detroit!’ across the room. Not the smoothest thing I’ve ever done, but it worked. We were pretty much inseparable from the word go. It was a whirlwind romance and I can tell my daughter I literally saw her mother across a room and thought, ‘I have to be next to this woman.’”

A self-confessed “useless” shopper, Jackson gives his wife full credit for his current wardrobe. He is jewellery-free, apart from a wedding band and a gold signet “JJ” ring on his little finger (a present from his wife), and discovered tailored sweatsuits (by Stampd and Reigning Champ) in the pandemic.

“Jodie has influence in the way that a wonderful wife encourages you, through love, to dress well. She was like, ‘We’re going to throw away all the sweatpants from your past and I’m going to get you some that actually make you look like an adult male and you will still feel comfortable around the house,’ and I’m like, ‘What an amazing idea!’ Who knew you could get sweatsuits that actually look good on your body?”

Jackson’s style has evolved, he says, “from slovenly teen to it’s-nice-when-your-clothes-actually-fit-you”. The penny dropped after he auditioned for his former co-star Estevez, who was directing the 2006 Mr Robert Kennedy biopic Bobby. He said to me, ‘You only got this job because I know you. You came in here to play a very well-put together 1960s political operative and you’re wearing jeans and a hoodie.’

“I had to grow up a little bit. We are very much raised in Canada to never, ever show off, so it took me a while to recognise it’s OK to look good when you go out.”

Still, when you’ve grown up in front of the camera, “every pimple literally documented”, and lived (very successfully) to tell the tale, you can probably be forgiven for the odd fashion faux pas.

“I wore a silk Ascot to an event once in Paris and I still have nightmares about it,” he says. “I looked like Fred from Scooby Doo, but you live and learn.”

#joshua jackson #interviews #jodie turner smith #dawson's creek #dr death #fringe #emilio estevez #mr porter #patrick stewart #michelle williams #katie holmes

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variousqueerthings · 4 years ago

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Tom Hardy Movies rated least to most queer

I made a list of some Tom Hardy movies and I rated them based on my own, non-specific criteria about what makes a movie queer. Results below the cut.

(Some films not included, because I haven’t watched them yet, because Mr Hardy’s only in them for a few minutes, because the subject matter doesn’t lend itself to this list, or because I just don’t want’em here. TV series also not included. The list is organised into both groups and ratings, because I’m doing The Most.)

Movies are divided into four groups and rated from 0 – 10 on the Queer-Scale, scroll down to the bottom if you want the ratings without the commentary.

Disclaimer: This list is subjective. Don’t come at me because I didn’t rate Inception higher, Nolan himself is as queer as cargo shorts.

1. This movie would make more sense if it were queer

If this movie were queer it… might not become a perfect film all of a sudden, but it’d make a hell of a lot more sense than what’s actually going on. With an occasional dose of “are the cis-straights okay?”

This Means War (2012): So Chris Pine and Tom Hardy are ostensibly both in love with Reese Witherspoon, but say “I love you” to each other pretty much constantly throughout the movie and their friendship is often presented as a domestic partnership. Cool, cool, cooool.

Queer Rating: 2 out of 10. This movie hate-crimed me by having Tom Hardy literally spell out his relationship with Chris Pine, only for the script to then have him say… “can you imagine all that… but with a woman…” Later on the movie explicitly denies polyamory is possible. Fuck this film.

The Dark Knight Rises (2012): Batman movies should always be queer. Mr. Hardy’s the only one who acceptably camps it up, despite Nolan’s best attempts to make him “acceptably gruff.” No matter what you do, Bane is a massive daddy in a mask and thanks to Mr Hardy’s honestly iconic fucking speech pattern in this film, it goes from pretty atrociously straight to just queer enough to imagine a future where Robert Pattinson plays batman and maybe adopts a bunch of kids.

(the only truly decent mask in this franchise tbh)

Queer Rating: 3 out of 10. Mr Hardy’s back is the one that’s actually broken carrying any semblance of fun in this overly long movie all on his own.

Lawless (2012): Wow, this really was the year of the not-queer-enough, wasn’t it? Look, it’s “based on a real story,” but it’s also a movie and movies don’t need to stick to the truth, and this one certainly doesn’t. Was the guy queer in real life? I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter, what matters is that it’s just kind of an eh movie and maybe being queer would add something to it. One of those “but why make someone queer? because it’s always more interesting to do so,” movies.

Queer Rating: 3 out of 10. It’s just not queer. But Tom Hardy wears cardigans and described his character as a “mother figure,” which adds an interesting dynamic to him.

2. Actually Queer but in a homophobic way

Tom Hardy plays a canonically queer character, yaaay. The whole movie contains a strange sense of the director being too not-queer to actually engage with that and everything around him is almost aggressively straight, noooo.

RocknRolla (2008): Honestly this movie has the funniest coming out scene ever + that familiar undertone of “all these manly men secretly want to fuck each other” is only heightened by one of them actually being gay and in love with his best friend. It’s such a fucking… it’s such a movie. Personally I find Mark Strong, Idris Elba, Thandie Newton, and, of course, Tom Hardy to be really hot in it, so that’s a plus. There’s a scene in which Strong’s character teaches another gangster how to do a proper backhand. It’s really gay of him. Also slow-dancing at a gay club. Butler’s character needs to get himself together, you really don’t think 2008 Tom Hardy is hot? Mate.

(left to right: functional queer, disaster queer, distinguished queer)

Queer Rating: 6 out of 10, for having an actual gay character who is played by Tom Hardy doing a sexy phonecall voice to another guy, but then there’s that feeling you can’t shake that the whole movie is vaguely uncomfortable about it, like a family member awkwardly patting you on the shoulder after they found out you were queer second-hand, but they’ve still got 50 years of bias to unlearn. Also Thandie Newton is killed, fuck that noise.

Legend (2015): If I had a nickle for the amount of times Tom Hardy’s played a gay gangster, I’d have two nickles. Which isn’t a lot, but weird that it happened twice (looks at Peaky Blinders and thinks it ought to be three times). I’ve watched Legend three times and every time it just… loses me. And because this is a biased list, I’ll only specifically mention that it fails to make Ron’s queerness anything but a way for him to shock others. Gangsters could be gay? Gasp! On the upside Tom Hardy has so much sexual tension with everyone in this movie, including himself (why would you do that? Asks Ron, bemused. Because I can’t kill you, no matter how much I fucking want to, hisses a blood-soaked Reggie right into his ear. It’s hot).

Queer rating: 5 out of 10 because the film is just not very queer for a movie with several queer men in it.

3. Straight as a forced family dinner

It’s straight.

Locke (2013): He’s a married man who had an affair and trying to deal with the fallout of it. This isn’t a spoiler for most of the movie, it’s a pretty neat movie where we look at Tom Hardy having a bit of a mental breakdown and taking lots of phonecalls (my personal hell). Is it queer? Not in the slightest.

Queer Rating: 2 out of 10 for Hardy’s face being in almost every shot.

The Revenant (2015): Yeah, yeah, DeCaprio’s and Hardy’s characters are obsessed with each other, yeah it’s a man’s world where the only women are dead wife, kidnapped sexually assaulted native princess, or background whore, yeah, they fight each other and there’s a ton of grunting, but also… I just fucking don’t like this movie. The thin line where a storyline like this one becomes queer might be crossed for others, but not for me. Fuck these guys and their stupid bear fights.

Queer rating: 3 out of 10 for it being about dirty men in the middle of nowhere (but you could just watch Brokeback Mountain or The Lighthouse or God’s Own Country or any Mad Max, or, or, or…)

4. Queer? Queer. Queer? … Queer…

The plots, aesthetics and/or characters played by Tom Hardy lend themselves to a queer reading, even if there is no overt intention towards queerness. Often this is because of a deliberate lack of heterosexual and/or cisgender writing, which in this day and age is still pretty uncommon not to include within a plot.

Inception (2010): Okay, I don’t even need to write about the added “darling,” or the “go to sleep Mr Eames.” I don’t need to go on about the absolutely bonkers amount of fanfiction written for Eames and Arthur, based on a few minutes of film and a boatload of chemistry. It’s queer.

Queer Rating: 7 out of 10, because the actual plot of the film isn’t very queer, but between the Arthur/Eames dynamic and Elliot Page, Nolan was really given a gift he didn’t deserve.

Warrior (2011): Okay, so first off, this might be my favourite Tom Hardy film, at least some part of my brain is fixated on it at almost all times and I’m considering watching it for the third time in two weeks. I don’t only consider it queer based on Mr. Hardy’s character, although he has no romantic or sexual interest and could be read as aroace, but because of the themes, especially those surrounding said character, who is coded as a caregiver to women and through close emotional connections to men. It’s got possibly unintentional deconstructions of masculinity and two men (brothers) who need to forgive each other and can only do so through the catharsis of violence. It speaks to me as a transmasc with several cis brothers, struggling with my own masculinity. It’s not at all written for me, but I find myself all over it. I could talk about this movie forever.

Queer Rating: 8 out of 10. I’m not allowed to say any more or I’ll never stop writing about it. I love you Tommy…

The Drop (2014): Bob’s lack of sexual and/or romantic interest in Naomi is so strange to her that she doesn’t know what he would want from her otherwise. Bob really just wants to raise a dog with her (and also forgiveness for past sins). Bob is such a rare ace and possibly aro coded character, it really throws me every time I watch this film how obvious it is. Bonus points for also being autistic-coded and not in the stereotypical ways.

(Tom Hardy’s most challenging role: pretending he doesn’t know dogs)

Queer Rating: 9 out of 10 because it’s so fucking rare to see ace and aro coded characters that aren’t, you know…. serial killers. Also Tom Hardy adopts a puppy and has a very cute, kinda lispy voice. How often does Tom Hardy play softer men like this?

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015): Very deliberately no sexual or romantic writing included in Max’s and Furiosa’s relationship. Sure, there’s not a lot of time for that in the post-apocalyptic wasteland, but it was also done with a purpose! “It was always going to be two warriors on par, starting off with very little respect for each other and ending up with a massive respect for each other.” - Charlize Theron. “So of course they meet, of course there’s a relationship, an unspoken understanding. A recognition.” - Tom Hardy.

Queer Rating: 9 out of 10. It’s not just the characters, but the world and it’s apocalyptic BDSM leather scene, the questions it asks about sustainability and about people as tools, and the found family. It’s about overcoming violence through multiple kinds of love. And it’s about watching a guy playing flame-thrower guitar. What could be queerer?

Venom (2018): Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same… No, but Eddie is queer. The only question is whether the sequel will acknowledge that aspect or not, but even if not. Even if it manages to straightly bypass the reality of a symbiotic relationship with a genderless? genderfluid? being from another world that is linked to you down to your very cells and understands you more intimately than any other person possibly could… even if all that: Eddie is queer. Venom and Eddie are in a relationship. Any relationship Eddie ever enters into will automatically become a thrupple. He makes out with Venom in the movie! Eddie is queer.

(aw yeah that tongue is going down his throat)

Queer Rating: 9.5 out of 10, because it’s still coded by the creators in the language of bromance (hey, bro, is it gay if we’re physically and emotionally closer than any other people on earth?), but the movie is so, so camp and Mr Hardy’s acting choices are beautiful – the screaming? The lispy soft voice and lack of taking up space? The lobster tank? The only people who don’t know how queer this is are the people making it apparently. Fingers crossed for that sequel!

Hon. mentions:

Star Trek: Nemesis (2002): Star Trek – even at it’s worst (especially at its worst?) – is camp af + Hardy is a straight-up baby in this film.

Bronson (2008): It’s about a real person who’s still alive, so I won’t comment on the actual man. However the film seems to code the character Bronson along an ace line and also has genderqueering Vaudeville. Someone let Tom Hardy do more of whatever was going on in those stage-bits.

(this right here: this the good shit)

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011): Another ensemble piece not massively about Hardy’s character, but it’s a movie that centers around queerness in a strange, depressing way. Tom Hardy’s character isn’t queer. Colin Firth and Mark Strong are though. The book makes me cry.

Peaky Blinders (2013-): Because it’s a TV series I left it out. There’s a lot of straight nonsense going on there, but Alfie Solomens is gay. There’s nothing in the series that disputes that and plenty that lends itself to the reading.

Dunkirk (2017): Tom Hardy plays an RAF pilot in a deep emotional connection with the other main RAF pilot. That’s immediately gay. However he’s not in the movie much because of the way it’s constructed, so I left it off.

Queer Ratings (least to most)

No queer to be found here traveller:

This Means War: 2 out of 10 - illegal movie, Tom Hardy swore he wouldn’t do another rom-com after

Locke: 2 out of 10 - straight Welshman and his straight problems. He pretty though

Lawless: 3 out of 10 - cardigan-Hardy being a mother-hen, but very straight for all that

The Dark Knight Rises: 3 out of 10 - a superhero movie that doesn’t deserve Mr Hardy’s camp talents (unlike Venom)

The Revenant: 3 out of 10 - doesn’t give me what I want out of a movie full of dirty, bearded men

Queer but we deserve more:

Legend: 5 out of 10 - timid homosexuality, considering the source material.

RocknRolla: 6 out of 10 - hey bro, is it gay if we kill the only female lead in our massive ensemble cast

The queerest of Hardy’s:

Inception: 7 out of 10 - Elliot Page and JGL kissing was an all-around terrible choice that made no sense, we know the truth, Nolan

Warrior: 8 out of 10 - I’m still crying, Edgerton’s crying, Hardy’s crying, we’re all crying, and I think that’s really emotionally healthy and queer of us

Mad Max: Fury Road: 9 out of 10 - non-romantic love in the time of BDSM post-apocalyptic wastelands is something that can actually be so personal

The Drop: 9 out of 10 - “Fucking punk. Go out to dinner dressed like you're still in you living room! You wear those big hippity-hoppity clown shoes! You speak to women terribly! You treat them despicably! You hurt harmless dogs that can't defend themselves! I'm tired of you man. I'm tired of you. You embarrass me!”

Venom: 9.5 out of 10 - Sometimes a relationship is an anxious reporter, the sentient goo inhabiting his body, his kinda-ex-girlfriend and her new doctor boyfriend, and I think that’s beautiful

#tom hardy #mad max: fury road #venom 2018 #inception #rocknrolla #warrior 2011 #legend 2015 #the drop 2014 #the revenant #the dark knight rises #lawless 2012 #locke #this means war

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darkpoisonouslove · 3 years ago

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Sparks of Life Opera Edition

I am still not over Singing a New Tune so I am going to recap for you the experience of writing that fic because there were many interesting moments over the course of those three days. Lemme start from the beginning.

- So I’m writing a fic that mostly focuses on sexual stuff but it is also mainly happening in an opera so my first order of business is to figure out what that opera is. Both the building itself and the show they’ll be watching. Because that is of utmost importance.

- I have already mentioned that SoL is located in New York so I looked up New York operas. I do not vibe with research most of the time but I vibe even less with having to come up with names for any kind of thing so research was definitely the choice here.

- I somehow get results about operas that are in the other end of the USA. That was not great. I get to the Metropolitan Opera House at last (which I might have known existed if I cared about opera in any way, shape or form) which is great! I am so close to starting the fic! Just need to figure out what opera they’re watching. Because I need that for reasons.

- I end up downloading a PDF with the seatings inside the Met Opera so that I can figure out where the hell they will be seating. But I leave that for later. I look through the actual plays that they’re having while absolutely failing with the navigation of their site. I find a show that catches my eye. It’s called The Magic Flute. I have zero idea what it’s about so I read the Wikipedia summary just to be aware. It mentions that a character has a moment when he’s singing about his search for a wife and I think “Perfect! Foreshadowing!” (since this is set pretty early on in Griffin and Valtor’s relationship).

- I decide to look up the opera and see if I can find a part of it on youtube to figure out how it will sound. I am pretty sold on it already because of the summary I read and also because it implies there is magic as a subject in it which would call back to canon. Still, I look it up. I find a full version of it on the internet with English subtitles... It is 2 hours and 35 minutes:

youtube

- “Wow, okay... that’s a bit much. But hey, it has got subtitles in English. Maybe I’d actually watch that... once I’m done with the fic. I’m just gonna listen to a little bit while I finish my research, though, so I can have an idea of what it sounds like.”

- Now it’s time to open the engagement fic - Enough to Be Yours - because I don’t remember what year they got engaged in and I need that to reverse engineer the year in which this fic is taking place so that I can make sure that The Magic Flute was being performed back then. I don’t have an year stated in the engagement fic, though. I have a date - 9th October which is Friday and that means the year is 2015. Great! So I need to figure out if they were performing The Magic Flute back in 2010. Great.

- That takes a shit ton of time and nerves as it turns out. I spent over 4 hours just researching the logistics for this fic and a lot of that was unnecessary but I’m getting ahead of myself.

- I cannot find out whether they were performing the Magic Flute in 2010. I get results of it being broadcast in English (for the first time, I believe) in 2012 but that is way too late for this fic to be happening. Also, they are speaking of a broadcast which just doesn’t work for me. So I am having a hard time over here.

- I find a list of the new titles in 2011 but nothing mentions The Magic Flute as far as I can see.

- I am now considering switching to another opera. I see an opera that is based on events from The Song of the Nibelungs (I cannot be assed to go back and check what the actual title was). That catches my eye because I have read a book that was titled The Ring of the Nibelungs, I believe, and I kinda remember stuff from it... which is what makes me hesitate because that was a big tragedy.

- Meanwhile, I have stumbled upon a trailer for The Magic Flute:

youtube

MY GOD IS THAT BEAUTIFUL! THOSE PROPS ARE FUCKING GORGEOUS! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN THAT YOU GET TO GO AND SEE THAT LIVE? THAT IS NUTS! (Also, when I mentioned paper birds (I think they are) in the fic, I meant the ones shown in 0:13, not the big one in the beginning but HOLY SHIT, DID YOU SEE THAT THING????? HOW IS THAT REAL?!?!?!?! IT IS SO FUCKING AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN’T. I AM DYING. THIS IS JUST TOO BEAUTIFUL.)

- I somehow happen upon an old archive of the opera (idk how I did that but I bookmarked it in case I’ll need it again) that has information about plays going back as far as the year 1900. This is nuts! I am in too deep but I can’t pull myself away. I’ve gotten this far, I will see it through.

- I search for keyword “flute” and I get results. Some of them are pretty old but I finally find what I need. Performances of the Magic Flute in 2010! Bingo!

- ...Oh, wait, they’re all around Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Hmm... when will it be okay for them to go? I mean, Valtor has been established to have zero free time around that time of the year and I can’t see them going on the 24th or the 31st... Oh, those are matinees. Definitely no! I need them to go in the evening. And some of these are broadcasts which doesn’t work for me either.

- I looked up earlier years as well. I considered another opera again. I decided to switch up the timeline a little. It makes sense if it’s in 2009. I think they had spring performances of The Magic Flute then. Or was it 2008? Anyway, I finally settle on an early April date in 2009 (I think). Now that that’s settled, let’s go back to the seats.

- First I need to figure out what floor (let’s say) of the opera they’re on. I was thinking of the last one first (family circle) but the boxes (I figure those seats will be safest for their activities) look like this:

which isn’t vibing with me because they would be in the front row and it seems more visible. So I relocate to the previous floor (balcony) that looks like this:

That works a little better although there’s the danger of having more people in their box. But they’re sitting in box 14, seats 5 (Griffin) and 6 (Valtor) (where the arrow is pointing) and there’s only one man in seat 4 in front of them. So that is the best I can do.

- Wow, all that’s finally figured out. I decide to do all the rest of the research up front in order to be able to just write after that and not stop for another 4 hours. More on those other things later BUT I get to the part where I need to pick a vibrator and... well, I done fucked up.

- First thing that comes up for a remote controlled vibrator is Lush, of course. And I am immediately sold because it has a sound activated setting which Valtor will definitely love to utilize while in the opera.

BUT

Lush 2 (which is the first one to have the sound activated setting, I believe) came out in 2018. Even if we accept that Lush also has it, that came out in 2015. My fic is set in 2009. Searching for 2009 vibrators literally went no where so in the end I decided that the SoL verse is actually set in a parallel universe where time is a little warped so the Lush 2 is out in 2009. Plus, that way there isn’t going to be a pandemic in future installments. Overall, that works. Except that I needn’t have been so thorough with my opera research beforehand. Oh, well. It’s finally time to start writing.

- How do you write? How do you start a fic? One word in front of the other? Oh, okay, never mind. Lipstick is a girl’s best friend. Let’s start from there. And a kiss that leads to the discussion of lipstick... Damn, I forgot to spend one more hour on researching what kind of lipstick Griffin would have worn. Shame! You don’t get that detail now. I believe I didn’t even mention a shade.

- Oh, wait. Need for his breath to taste like something. Hmm, let’s see. Tonic water? Yeah, that sounds about right. Never mind that he should have probably drunk it right before getting out of the car to kiss her if it was still lingering on his breath. I mean, that’s not impossible. Just improbable.

- He’s also wearing cologne, right? Gotta research that too. How else would I get this:

and zero idea what it actually smells like despite the description. Also, did not check if that was a thing in 2009 but the story now exists in a vacuum so who cares.

- Apparently, Griffin doesn’t own any golden bracelets even though she does have a golden necklace? Or she could have a golden bracelet, just not one she likes for the current situation? Anyway, I wanted to mention Ediltrude as well because the twins always go together and that was the best I came up with. (That said, I didn’t need to put the mentions of them one sentence apart.)

- My god, I used a semicolon! That feels illegal. I sure hope I used that bitch correctly.

- Okay, I absolutely love all the banter and just flow in the car. Idk how I did that since it’s such a constricted space but I am really proud of it. However, the logistics were sometimes hard to logic my way through. I mean, Valtor doesn’t get to look at her a lot and I had to employ a red traffic light to give him the chance to do so.

- I hit a wall about three paragraphs later. Things started going in a weird direction. I was considering even deleting the last two lines but then I managed to get back on track thanks to having figured out how they met and I decided to write a little bit about that without spoiling it (that will be a fic of its own some day). Suffice it to say it was a meet-very-ugly. But it bailed me out. Also, they got over it so it’s all good.

- And now... that paragraph. You know which one I’m talking about. It stands out with the locations I’ve given. That paragraph required 30 minutes of looking at Google Earth to figure it out and I still nearly got it wrong. At that point it occurred to me that they’ll need a place to park. I mean, idk how parking is in NYC but it’s probably not the way it is in Bulgaria especially on small neighborhood streets where it’s just... park wherever (even in front of a garage if you’re brazen enough and don’t fear having your tires slashed). So first, I was going to have them coming down Tenth Avenue and passing by the backside of the Opera which is not ideal for me because I needed Griffin to figure out they’re going to the opera so that they can have the following dialogue. But there is the New York Public Library of the Performing Arts right next door so I figure Griffin will recognize the area if it’s next to a library. And I have them almost at the garage but... that’s not looking right. This garage is on 65th Street and mine is on 62nd... I have been looking at the wrong garage for the past hour. Now that I have caught that mistake, things get easier. They just drive right past the facade of the opera, take a right turn and then enter the garage. Easy peasy. For whoever’s actually paying attention to the map.

- They’re in the garage now and I have to write another kiss. Shoot! I do not vibe with writing kisses. Writing sex scenes is much easier. But I’ll try my best because this is a little bit necessary if we’re dealing with an insertion of a vibrator in a public bathroom one minute from now. (Again, logistics!) I actually went back to add in a little discomfort during the kiss (but not too much because they’re consumed with each other anyway and probably missed something) just to make it more realistic. They can’t be comfortable in the car. Also, you have got to love how I never even thought of what make the car is. But I did stop to research the tinting of the car windows.

- Now this is extremely funny but I would have had zero idea that there are different laws about how tinted your car windows can be in the USA if I hadn’t read a very extensive critique of Fifty Shades (whichever part it was that had that info). So I look up the VLT for New York and it says 70%. Great! Then it won’t be that visible through the windows what they’re doing inside. Oh, wait! VLT means Visible Light Transmission aka 70% of the light should be passing through the window. Aka it is only tinted on 30%. This much:

That’s practically nothing. You can see everything through it. Welp, then someone’s gonna see, I guess.

- Can’t believe I didn’t stop to look up clutches either. (Lmao, I was calling it a purse instead of a clutch at first even though I definitely meant a clutch. And then I remembered that clutch existed as a word. Who would’ve thought?) It’s baffling trying to figure out why my brain was prioritizing some details over others and I just genuinely have no idea what was going on.

- Griffin is blushing a lot in this. Can you tell I have no idea how else to convey Valtor giving her feelings through body language?

- I first envisioned the box being opened by the hair pin by turning it like a key. Only later did I realize that that wouldn’t be possible because the pin has two parts (whatever they’re called) and that would make turning it impossible unless all of the base fits into one hole in the lid of the box. So I had to adapt my vision to using the extensions at the ends of the hair pin like a hook that pulls the lid up once it’s clicked free. I have zero idea how that would be done but I’m sure it can be done. So yeah, anyway, the pin looks like this but with attachments at the ends to open the box:

- I might have gone a little overboard with Griffin’s reaction to having the vibrator inside her. I might have made her a bit too embarrassed but I still think that she simply wouldn’t appreciate someone knowing about what she considers a private experience (despite the very public setting).

- And I am being overly specific again with the seats but I worked for that information so you’re getting it against your will!

- Speaking of, that man in their box was pretty ignored throughout the fic. But then again Griffin wasn’t overflowing with lucidity. She is sure to have missed... A Lot, actually.

- My apologies (once again) to @her-majesty-wears-jeans for not letting Griffin punch Valtor in the face for the terrible pun he was about to make but I thought that that would ruin the mood so I had to skip it.

- I might have imagined things a little differently but then consent factored in and I had to change things up so that Griffin is clearly on board with everything. I hope it came through that way at least. She is on board even if she is very, very frustrated. She would never throw the bet just because it’s difficult for her. Though, I’m taking note for future fics of maybe being a little bit more explicit about the enjoyment of all parties involved. I just couldn’t really think of a way to convey it better back then and I am coming up with several ideas now and I will try to keep them in mind for future fics.

- I keep going back and forth on just how far into their relationship this is. Sometimes it feels like it’s not enough time for them to get this familiar with each other and sometimes it feels like too much for them to still be skirting their feelings for each other like that. Will update when I make up my mind about how long exactly it has been.

- In retrospect, probably should have picked up an opera that people would be less likely to bring their children to (as brought to my attention by @her-majesty-wears-jeans). I apologize for this. Did not consider it at all.

- A wild tangent about Griffin’s sexual experiences before Valtor popped up (for the second time now). This is giving me thoughts and I am not even sure if I’ll manage to get them all out in the bachelorette party fic. Oh, no, I am getting ideas again.

- God, I had to mention those paper birds because I adore them. Also, needed to do a time skip somehow (sure hope they don’t show up at the very end or the very beginning).

- So there are some things about the whole thing with the suit jacket that if you squint, you’ll miss the very far-fetched and convoluted ways in which I could make them make sense but again, it isn’t impossible to make them operate according to logic so good enough.

- And now for the dress:

I thought it would be reasonable for Griffin to own something like that. It doesn’t look overly expensive or dramatic.

- I swear that most of the 2% angst was an accident. Griffin was supposed to say the “You paid how much for tickets exactly just so you could fool around?” line but the following few paragraphs sprang on me out of nowhere. That was where I left it off the first day I was working on it and I wasn’t sure how to continue it. Then the angst happened.

- I do not believe the retaliation part was planned but would it really be a Griffin x Valtor story if something like that hadn’t happened? XD

- “reverberated”, “multitudinous” and “unobtainable” are probably not words that Griffin’s muddled mind would go to in that precise moment but everything else I came up with for them just did not sound right.

- I completely forgot the word for neckline and was so mad at myself for that but, luckily, I managed to remember it before posting the fic. I believe the original read “he slipped a finger under the fabric of her dress, running it over the top of her breast” which is not incorrect but just not precise enough for my liking.

- Sure hope the shortened version of the opera did not cut out the ending musical sequence. But that seems unlikely.

- The idea was running overly long in my head by having them going back to the penthouse so that I could have the scene where he picked her up so I decided to move things around and have him carry her bridal style on their way from the opera to the car. It’s not like she didn’t earn it.

- Pretty sure I had planned something a little different for the last several lines of dialogue but I couldn’t remember what so we get this. Which isn’t a disadvantage. I mean, Griffin is already thinking of marrying him. XD (That’s probably a bit of a stretch at the current status of their relationship but then again, she was thinking of a wedding, not necessarily of their wedding even though I’m clearly a little romance gargoyle that meant exactly that.)

- Originally, Valtor was supposed to floor the brakes while they were out in the NYC traffic but then I decided that doing it while still in the garage with only one car behind them and both vehicles driving at a very slow speed was a lot safer so I switched to that. It also saved me writing more words which was appreciated. I thought this fic would be a bit shorter.

- I was at a loss for how many orgasms Griffin should want from him but then the commitment line happened and that was all avoided.

#winx club #winx griffin #winx valtor #griffin x valtor #covenshipping #sparks of life #singing a new tune #trivia #trivia tuesday #research #my writing process #the magic flute #yeah no cut and this is gonna be hell on mobile #i know #i'm evil

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tcm · 5 years ago

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Sessue Hayakawa: The Biggest Silent Movie Star I’d Never Heard Of By Kim Luperi

Rudolph Valentino. Douglas Fairbanks. Sessue Hayakawa. What do these men have in common? All reigned as dashing matinee idols during the silent era. But while Valentino and Fairbanks usually won the girl’s heart by the end, Hayakawa’s Japanese heritage almost always prevented him from doing the same; in fact, he became the first Asian actor to achieve stardom in Hollywood – and he did so while playing the villain.

I first witnessed Hayakawa’s star power in Cecil B. DeMille’s THE CHEAT (‘15). The ferocity of his actions on screen, and—I’ll admit it—his devastatingly good looks, stunned and entranced me. Not recognizing his name, I decided to investigate and was quickly intrigued by Hayakawa’s life and career in Hollywood.

Born in Japan in 1886, Hayakawa’s journey took him to the United States, where he made his film debut in 1914. (Though many sources—including Hayakawa himself—claim he moved to the U.S. to study at the University of Chicago, the school has no records showing he attended.) The following year, his role as a wealthy businessman in THE CHEAT propelled him to fame, albeit in an unusual way. In the movie, Hayakawa loans a socialite (Fannie Ward) $10,000… in exchange for sex. When she repays the money and tries to back out of the physical part of their deal, he refuses, and, in a shocking scene, literally brands her as his property.

Caucasian women went wild over Hayakawa’s performance. Stephen Gong, Executive Director of the Center for Asian American Media, noted the widely-cited reasoning for that in a 2008 interview: "The idea of the rape fantasy, forbidden fruit, all those taboos of race and sex – it made him a movie star.” However, THE CHEAT and the striking reaction Hayakawa’s understated style and brazen brutality elicited was fraught with the racial prejudices and sexual mores of the time, and the film didn’t fare well with everyone. Japanese moviegoers and publications in America decried Hayakawa for taking on a villainous role that adversely affected how they were viewed and treated. Indeed, in his 1960 book Zen Showed Me the Way, Hayakawa recalled, “I was indignantly accused of casting a slur on my nationality,” something other Asian actors, like Anna May Wong, were charged with too, even though Hollywood rarely offered them non-stereotypical parts.

The actor’s star ascended quickly; in fact, a 1917 theater advertisement marketed a “mammoth triple feature program,” placing Hayakawa on the same level of stardom as Charlie Chaplin and Western icon William S. Hart. After Hayakawa’s contract with Jesse Lasky ended in 1918, he formed Haworth Pictures Corporation, which gave him more power over his career and enabled him to undertake a wider variety of roles. Haworth churned out almost 20 films from 1918-1922, and at the helm, Hayakawa could funnel his creative talents through the entire filmmaking process; in addition to acting, he produced and wrote select features, and he’s also said to have contributed to Haworth productions’ design, editing and directing. Hayakawa often appeared alongside Caucasian actresses in these pictures, but even when he played the hero, miscegenation laws basically barred him from a blissful finale. A rare happy ending during this period came in THE DRAGON PAINTER (‘19), which Hayakawa co-starred in with his wife, Japanese actress Tsuru Aoki. Hayakawa’s studio proved so successful that he commanded an astounding $7,500 a week in 1920, the equivalent of almost $100,000 a century later.

But at the top of his game, Hayakawa left Hollywood. The reasons for his 1922 exit remain murky, but different sources credit business issues, mounting xenophobia/discrimination and more. In an odd statement from a 1957 Los Angeles Times interview, Hayakawa plainly stated he relocated because, “I met a treacherous man. He took out a $1,000,000 policy on my life. And I believe he tried to kill me to collect.”

Mysteries aside, the actor spent the next few decades working on stage and screen across Europe and Japan, settling for a while in France, where he resided during WWII. Though Hayakawa mostly remained abroad the rest of his life, he occasionally returned to America, including in 1931 to act in his first Hollywood talkie, DAUGHTER OF THE DRAGON, and the late 1950s. During the latter period, he appeared in his most famous film, THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI (‘57), resulting in a Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination.

While researching Hayakawa’s life, I uncovered a good amount of conflicting and/or unverified information, some even proliferated by the actor himself. Indeed, Sessue Hayakawa: Silent Cinema and Transnational Stardom author Daisuke Miyao has said, “I think the life of Hayakawa as a star was always a process of creating his own myth.” But a little bit of confabulation probably serves the enduring enigma of an enchanting matinee idol well, does it not?

#Sessue Hayakawa #silent film #silent movies #1900s #Asians in Hollywood #Japanese #TCM #Turner Classic Movies #Kim Luperi

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percywinchester27 · 4 years ago

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A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-2)

Word count: 4.3K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Depression, some fluff, the usual

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines from now on. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Fingers crossed that you guys like this part :)

Beta: The sweetest @deanssweetheart23. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Athina <3

Read part 1 here

It was, at least, a couple of hours before you found the courage to step out of the bathroom stall and walk out of the campus. With every turn you made, it felt that Sam might be there around the corner. On every bend, you were afraid that you might bump into him. But it wasn’t just that. Every colour looked brighter, every sound seemed sharper. It was as if the bubble of numbness that cocooned you had suddenly burst open and flung you in the middle of the world- raw and naked. Every sense felt more severe.

You were completely and utterly disoriented and exhausted when you turned the key of your apartment and entered. The inside was a brand new mess of boxes and pile ups. You flattened yourself against the wall.

“Hey!”

You looked around the box to see a brunette in all black sitting cross legged on the floor with a vicious cutter in her hand.

She saw that your gaze had landed on the cutter and waved it around. “This is just for the boxes,”

Meg.

It had completely slipped your mind that your roommate was supposed to move in today.

You whispered a quick ‘hey’ without looking at her, and rushed to your room. Locking the door, you slid to the floor, wishing for the sharpness to go away, willing your safety bubble to come back. It did not. And the senses, the memories kept assaulting you over and over.

*********************

13th July 2008

“Happy average birthday, Y/N!” Jo squealed in your ears, and you flinched back.

“Happy average birthday to you, too. Also, don’t shout!” You said. “ Do you want to announce it to the whole bar? You’ll get me kicked out

“You’re 19!”

“Exactly!” You pointed out. “The legal drinking age in Kansas is 21.”

Joe rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Y/N? Anyone ever told you that you need to loosen the hell up? One beer isn’t going to hurt.”

You gave her a sly look. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

Jo grinned back.

“Here!” She slid across a fake id. “I already got you the entry pass if anyone asks. But let’s just stick to beer, shall we? Don’t want you throwing up all over the place in case you can’t keep your liquid down.”

“What if Aunt El finds out?” You whispered.

Jo squinted at you. “Mom will not find out what she doesn’t need to find out. You shut up and I shut up. That’s all there is to it.”

Ellen, Jo’s mom had been your mom’s sister. You didn’t want to get in trouble with anyone here, especially since you were here just for a few weeks.

“You have that look on your face again,” Jo said. “The one where your eyebrows all scrunch up and you worry the hell out of that tiny little brain. I never know what you’re thinking Y/N!”

You smiled a little at her whiny tone. “There’s not much going on here anyway,” you said, pointing at your head.

She jingled the little frill on the tight, body hugging one piece she had put you in. “Maybe something will go on after tonight!”

“Hey,” you protested. “You’re the one who’s tango-ing with Dean Winchester… or whatever you two have going.”

“Dean Winchester is the one who wants to Tango with me!”

You rolled your eyes. “As if you’re not interested in him at all.”

She gave you a superior look. “He doesn’t need to know that. Who knows? Tonight he just might get lucky.”

You had been here for a little over a week, and were somewhat familiarised with the people of the town: Langdon Wheeler, the guy who sold old cars next to the fire depot; Sheriff Johnson and Old Rufus living outside the barn, but nothing had drawn you in like the story of the Winchesters. Ellen had told you about it over dinner on your second day living with them. John Winchester had been her friend. He and his wife had died in a house fire years ago. Their four year old boy, Dean, had barely ran out of the house with his 6 month old brother when the first floor blew apart, killing the couple. It was the tragedy of the town, repeated over and over on drunken nights in every bar. The boys had both lived with a friend of their father’s and his wife in Sioux Falls, Missouri before Dean was old enough to live by himself and move back here. Secretly, you had believed that it was good for the boys to have lived away from this gossip mongering town. You’d been here barely for a week and everyone was up Ellen’s nose asking for everything there was to know about you.

Besides, Dean Winchester had made a reputation as the town’s playboy since he’d arrived. Apparently, there were middle aged women knocking on his door every morning with Casseroles and he’d turned them all right back. You knew first hand how miffed women talked, so no wonder Dean was turned into the badboy overnight. It didn’t help that he was extremely handsome- you had seen him a couple of times with Jo- and obviously unachievable. Honestly, you didn’t blame Dean. If those women were gonna snoop into his business and make everyday a funeral for his parents, they got what they deserved.

Jo had put on a stoic face when you had voiced your opinion at the dinner table, leading you to assume she wasn’t a big fan of the man. It wasn’t until you were laying in bed next to her that she’d gone all out on an epic rant about how the town needed to treat those boys better! Dean was an honest man, who made his living by running the only good auto-body shop in three towns and being flirty wasn’t a capital offense. Snooping into other people’s business should have been though, according to her.

Jo had dozed off after a while, but you’d stayed up, looking at the cracks in the ceiling of her room, not thinking about Dean Winchester, but about that little boy, who was only 6 months old when a fire took away everything that he had, save one person. Sam Winchester was lucky that he had an older brother to look out for him. God knew, you had always wished for an older sibling even when your parents had been alive. But like Dean, you remembered what your mom looked like, you remembered the sound of your dad’s voice. Sam didn’t have that. It would have been awful growing up without the reassurance of those memories.

The next morning, you had asked Jo about Sam, and earned her sly smirk. “Getting into the story, aren’t you?” She’d said, but told you anyway. No one knew much about Sam except that he went to Stanford and then Yale to become a lawyer. He showed up during the summers but wasn’t seen out and about much. Though that was about to be changed because this had been his last year and he was coming back to Lawrence this weekend for good. Jo had seen him a couple of times at their diner where she helped Aunt El, but that was all she would tell you.

It was like some epic karma. A lawyer from an Ivy League? You didn’t care if it took hounding this poor unsuspecting dude, but you were going to get it out of him how he managed that? He clearly didn’t have influence or money.

After badgering Jo some more, she had agreed to let you tag along to Dean Winchester’s place when his brother got back.

“Hey!” Jo swooshed her hand past your face. “Earth to Y/N?”

“Sorry!” You said quickly.

She looked like she was praying for your awkward social skills. “I’m gonna get us some beers, and you are going to try to get lucky. Capeesh?”

“Capeesh.” Fat chance of that!

You watched her walk towards the bar, sashaying her hips. How did girls do that? How did girls do anything even remotely sexy for that matter?

Then there was you, dying to get out of this dress. It was off shoulder, and you were starting to feel hella cold. Jo or even Ellen for that matter didn’t have to know about your weird cold sensitivity. Should have brought along that sweater.

“You mind if I sit here?”

You looked up to see this really tall guy standing over you. It was a Friday, and the place was bustling full. There was no other place to sit, while you had three chairs empty right next to you. It would be rude to turn anyone around. Besides, when Jo came back, she’d sush away a stranger, anyway.

“Sure,” you smiled nervously.

He sat down, and you were left to gather your wits for a few moments. The boy was hot. There was literally no other way of saying it. He had long brown wavy hair that fell below his chin, and beautiful hazel eyes.

“Thanks,” he smiled, and dimples appeared at the side of his cheeks.

Speech. You had to actively remember that you had that ability so you could respond… even if it was just a noncommittal shrug.

Oh, what it must be like to be cool. You wanted to keep looking at him and that was exactly why you concentrated all your energy on looking anywhere but him.

After a while of total silence, he asked, “So you’re from around here?”

“Uhh… no,” you said, “I’m just staying at my aunt's place for a bit.”

“Oh, hey! Happy birthday!” He said, holding up the little placard on the cupcake sitting in front of you.

“Thanks,” you replied, hugging yourself, not wanting to explain that it really wasn’t your birthday. It really was getting cold out here. You saw his eyes flicker towards your hands catching your elbows.

“Celebrating by yourself?” He asked, and you felt a little bad for him trying to make a conversation with you out of decency. He could have used the time to hit on a waitress who could have gotten him a seat by the bar… or more. The least you could do was tell him the truth.

“Actually, it’s not my birthday today. It's in October and I’m here with my cousin whose birthday was in April. Since I’m just visiting for a few weeks, we decided to average it out and celebrate our combined birthday now. She’s here somewhere…” you said and found her in the shadiest corner of the bar, hands wrapped around someone in a leather jacket. Then, discreetly she pulled him towards the back exit with her.

Mr. Hazel eyes followed your stare and groaned. “Uhh they’re gonna be in there for a while.”

You wanted to bang your head against the table. Not that you begrudged Jo her alone time with Dean, but you really didn’t know anyone here.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said apologetically, running his hand through his hair. It looked so soft. You wanted to touch it. And his eyes were really kind. It made you a little mad that he was sympathetic about the fact that your cousin had ditched you on your combined birthday outing.

“My brother can be an idiot sometimes,” he shrugged, and you realised that he truly was apologising and his words weren’t judging at all. “I can keep you company till Jo gets back.”

Then it hit you.

“Wait! You’re Sam Winchester?” You blurted

He raised an eyebrow. “I can see that my reputation precedes me.” He laughed nervously and you immediately felt contrite. Way to make him feel spied upon.

“No, no,” you explained. “Jo told me about you, is all.”

“Something good I hope,” he mumbled, looking down.

Suddenly you could actually feel your heartbeat, and the blood rising to your cheeks. Here was the one person you had been wanting to meet and he had just walked into a bar and found you instead! Looking like that.

“So you’re Jo’s cousin?” He asked, clearly making the link that Ellen was your aunt. “How’re you liking Lawrence?”

“Not so much,” you answered honestly. “I’m tired of the pitying looks I keep getting.”

“Yeah, I can relate,” he said.

Of course he could. The bar was crowding up further and more than a few stray glances were making their way towards you. It made you uncomfortable.

“Hey, you wanna get out of here?” Sam asked, then clarified realising how that sounded. “I mean there’s this park right outside. We could wait there till... you know…” he waved his fingers vaguely towards where Dean and Jo had disappeared, light blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Yes!” You said jumping out of the chair. The realisation hit you afresh, how short your skirt was. That’s it, you were never wearing Jo’s clothes again.

Sam stood back and let you pass before him in a true gentleman fashion. You tucked your hair behind your ear, walking ahead, and then out of the bar.

The cold air hit you hard in the face and your naked shoulders, making you shiver.

“Here,” Sam offered you his jacket. He had shirked out of it as he’d walked behind you. “Take this.”

Ordinarily, you’d never had accepted, but it was either that or freezing your fingers off.

“Thanks.” You reached for it shyly, pulling it on and rolling up the really long sleeves. The jacket was so big that it was just barely shorter than your dress. It was pleasantly warm and smelled wonderful.

You had the sudden, maddening urge to move closer to Sam. Of course, thanks to the tiny logical part of your brain that wasn’t short-circuiting, you did not act on it.

Now that he was walking next to you, you noticed what he was wearing- A dark flannel open over the well-worn brown t-shirt and jeans. They were about as ordinary as clothes went, yet he managed to make them look so good.

“Hey, can I ask you something,” he said hesitantly. “Why did you say you were tired of the pitying looks?”

You glanced at him and blurted the truth. “I’m the new attraction, I suppose. My parents died in a car crash when I was five and I’ve lived with my grandmother in a small town a hundred miles south of Topeka since. I really don’t have any other relatives except aunt Ellen and Jo.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sam said, sincerely. He was keeping up with your slow pace. “That sounds awful.”

You shook your head. “No, all things considered, I’ve had a good life. Grandma loves me, and she has always reminded me that I am important to her. I know of kids who’ve lived with a full family and felt neglected, like they were never needed.”

When Sam didn’t reply, you turned to see that he was regarding you thoughtfully. “That’s one way to look at it,” he said after a while.

“You would know.”

He shrugged, acknowledging the obvious- you knew about his childhood. You had already reached the park bench. It overlooked a lovely little pond with ducks resting on the fringes.

You huddled in the jacket, drawing all the warmth from it.

“So, you said, you were staying with Ellen just for a while?” He asked, turning to face you with his undivided attention, like it was somehow vital for him to know the answer to that. Meanwhile, you were having a hard time concentrating on the conversation when he was looking at you like that.

You trained your eyes on your fingers which rested in your lap. “Yeah, I’m hoping to hear from a few colleges.”

Sam perked up. “Really?”

You grinned up at him sheepishly. “I was actually hoping to run into you.”

He looked surprised at first, then his gaze turned skywards. “Well, will you look at that, my stars have finally aligned. This really is my night,” he said with a wink and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

His eyes softened.

“I’m hoping to get admitted into pre-law for the winter semester. I’m still applying to a few places. And you… well, you seem to have managed to do well for yourself.”

Sam laughed, but there was nothing conceited about it… if anything, he looked slightly embarrassed.

“C’mon,” you goaded, “What’s the secret to making it big?”

He narrowed his eyes, as if choosing his words. “I don’t know if there is a secret. My brother would tell you, I got in because I am the geekiest nerd to ever exist… and as lame as it sounds, he might actually be right.”

You laughed. This was the most that you had laughed in ages. It was just so easy to talk to him.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. For as long as I can remember.” It was the one thing you had wanted with a burning passion.

“And you will be,” he said, simply.

You rubbed your palms against each other for friction, to imbibe some more warmth. Sam’s fingers moved, like he was reaching out. Then he pulled back, as if he thought better of it.

“I know you must have crazy high school girls running after you all the time, but if it’s not too much, will you take a look at my application essays? I don’t know anyone who’s done this before- the whole college thing, I mean- so this would be great help.”

He licked his bottom lip, then gulped. “Of course. It’s the least I can do. You can come by the house anytime you want.” Then he made a big deal of looking behind his back. “I don’t see any crazy high school girls though.”

Laughter sounded behind you, and you immediately recognised Jo’s voice. She must’ve come looking for you.

Sam looked in the direction of the voices, then let out a nervous huff before reaching out for your hand. His palm was rough but also very warm. “Happy average birthday, Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m so very glad to have met you.”

*********************

There was a loud bang and you woke up with a start, your heart hammering out of your chest. You had fallen asleep on the floor right next to your door.

“Sorry!” A voice yelled from outside the door.

You looked around bewildered. Where were you? What was happening?

Oh, this was your new room at Stanford. One easy breath later, it all came crashing down. The class, Sam standing there on the podium, looking at you with shocked eyes.

It had all happened, really happened.

Your hand flew to your chest. You were simply incapable of comprehending this situation… everything was still sharper and clearer… and Sam was here.

There was a knock on the door. “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah,” you called back. “Just tired.”

“Whatever,” Meg said, and you heard the sounds of footsteps walking away.

You dragged yourself to the bed and lay on it, wishing that you could just zone out, wishing that you could just go back to being numb. It did not happen.

You spent most of the night blankly staring into space, only falling asleep when the sun came up again. In fact, if you didn’t have to use the bathroom, you wouldn’t have left the bed at all, even on the day that followed.

By Friday evening, the emptiness was eating at your insides so much that you finally decided to dress up and step out of the room. The door to Meg’s room was closed. A small part of you wanted to knock on it and apologise for being so rude, but most of you just wanted to run away from not just yourself but from existence itself.

Stepping outside the apartment and into the meadow seemed to liven your senses in a good way, so you walked out onto the street. It wasn’t to clear your head, more like to fill it with something to think about that wasn’t Sam or the absolute horror you felt about going back to classes.

You had worked your ass off for the past several years, both to earn the money to move, and the LSAT score and scholarship that let you into Stanford, and now you were simply blowing all that off by not attending the classes. In fact each minute of Thursday and Friday had felt like a heavy stone of anxiety slowly lowering itself in your stomach… Each minute that you had missed the classes. However, the thought of facing Sam after what had happened, absolutely petrified you.

Somehow being on the street amidst people who didn’t know you or didn’t care, quieted the storm in your head enough to think things through. You had two options. First to go back to College, and pretend like Sam didn’t exist for you outside the persona of a professor, that he was nothing more than a person you saw each day. That seemed absolutely impossible.

Second option was to run away, far from all of this, far from Sam. Again.

You mulled over to two options again and again, roaming around aimlessly till you were back in front of the apartment gate. Sighing, you pushed it open and found yourself looking at a jolly sight.

Along the parapet of the fountain, sat Kevin with Jack and a couple others. They were laughing about something, in fact, Jack seemed in hysterics. You stopped in your tracks.

Kevin noticed you standing there.

“Hey, Y/N!”

“Hey,” you said, over conscious of the state of your appearance. Your clothes were faded and thanks to the humidity, your hair stuck to your face, greasy and rough at the same time.

“Cas,” Kevin said to the one guy you didn’t know, “This is Y/N!”

“Y/N, this is Castiel,” he added. “You, of course, know Pam.”

Pamela Barnes was the landlord, so you had met her before. What you didn’t know is that everyone just hung out in the evening with her. She lived in one of the ground floor apartments. Easy to keep a watch on everyone like that. From what you knew, she was a bartender in one of the more popular bars in the town.

You said your hellos shyly. The awkward interaction was thankfully interrupted by a pizzaman.

“Oh, wonderful,” Jack exclaimed. “Right on time.”

“I’ll see you guys then,” you said, slowly backing away.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Kevin exclaimed. “The pizza is for everyone.”

“Oh, I can’t possibly intrude.”

“You’re not intruding,” Pam said. “It’s our ‘welcome to the apartment’ free pizza ritual.”

“What?” Cas gave her a look. “I didn’t get one!”

Pam kicked him in the shin, and it made you smile. “Of course you did. I just decided to keep it for myself.”

“C’mon, in,” she said, turning towards her flat.

You considered making a run for it, but didn’t see how it would work. Kevin kept you company, prattling on about everyone. Pam had two apartments to herself on the ground floor. With all the walls knocked down, it made one cool living room and three spacious bedrooms. It was a dream house of sorts. The third apartment on the ground floor was empty.

The first and second floor were either university kids or people who worked in the town. There was one married couple who was grossly in love with each other and did not interact with anyone else. And then the three apartments on the third floor. Kevin and Jack Kline, who was majoring in literature from University, lived in the first apartment. Then you and Meg in the flat next to them and opposite to you, lived Castiel Novak, Third year of Med school.

“So, Y/N, how’s Stanford treating you?”

Like a punching bag.

“It’s been good for most part,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Maybe it was because you were in proper company for the first time in a week or because you hadn’t eaten anything in two days, but the pizza tasted good. The tang of the tomatoes was perfectly balanced by the gooeyness of the cheese.

An involuntary moan left you as you took in another bite and four pairs of eyes turned towards you. You could feel the blood rushing to your face.

“Now that’s how you enjoy pizza,” Jack said. “Y’all don’t know anything about enjoying food. Maybe Y/N could bring some culture to this place. You heathens need it!”

Everyone laughed at that. The knot in your chest loosened.

“Hey, Cas,” Pam called. “Grab that 6 pack on your way from the kitchen.”

“Sure!”

You took another tentative bite of the pizza. It really did taste great.

“Y/N?”

You looked up to see Pam holding a pint over you.

“Er- “

“Here,” Kevin said, handing you a can of coke. “Y/N isn’t much of a drinker.”

“Oh, cool!” nodded Jack. And just like that everyone was okay with it.

You reached out to take the can. “You remembered,” you said through a strangled voice.

Kevin brushed it off with a raise of his shoulders, like it was nothing. “Of course I remembered. We are all so glad that you joined us for dinner, Y/N!”

And he meant it. He really did.

You felt tears press the edges of your eyes. You didn’t know if Kevin noticed, but if he did, he didn’t show it and the conversation flowed around you.

So the second option was out. You couldn’t run away from this. You had yearned for seven years to finally be here, to feel little things, little joys like these… and there was so much more to experience.

That left you with only one alternative… facing Sam. Maybe, just maybe you could manage to live your life without him affecting you like that. Afterall, he was only your professor now, you weren’t expected to interact with him on any level. It was only a matter of two semesters.

“More pizza?” Cas asked kindly and you nodded.

That decided it for you. You were going to take your life in your hands and you were going to walk into that class on Monday morning and never look back.

*************************

A/N 2: The blankness and the bubble that dulls all senses; that’s how I’ve experienced depression. And the sudden sharpness of senses is how I recognised that the worst of it was behind me. Have you guys experienced it differently?

PLEASE let me know what you think of this story?

If you want be tagged, you can send me an ask or add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

ALLU taglist:

@feelmyroarrrr @gabavaldman @im-a-light-child @cosicas-cuquis @bllyjianne @hoboal87 @i-is-for-inspiring @daughterleftbehind @wackiekebab @mylovelydame21 @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @superbadassnatural @bellastellaluna @babypink224221 @badlittlehabit99 @anathewierdo @sams-bubblegum-bitch @damnitnowimobsessed @fandomoverdose666 @superstarmarvel @atc74 @transparentfestivaltiger @rebel-author-chick @death-unbecomes-you

#sam winchester x reader #reader x sam fluff #sam winchester x reader fluff #lawyer!Sam #professor!Sam #sam winchester AU #Sam winchester fanfiction #spn fanfiction #Ana writes ALLU #ALLU part 2 #Ana writes Sam #anawritesspn #anawrites #q

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adultswim2021 · 3 years ago

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Space Ghost Coast to Coast #85: “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed” | December 7, 2003 - 11:30 PM | S08E04

Happy 20th anniversary, Adult Swim. And, boy, what a momentous episode of Ghost do we have here to celebrate. There are a number of episodes where the guest is an event unto itself and this is truly one of them. Frequent punchline William Shatner is an absolute cunt... and a proper legend. His cuntiness and legendary status are two things that seem to be at odds with one another, and the Space Ghost crew have managed to come up with an artfully idiosyncratic episode to match Shatner’s weird-guy-ness. It’s a classic for sure, and important. But (making a “smug dipshit” face) is it funny?

YES! It’s FUNNY! I will admit though, the first time I saw this episode I didn’t quite know what to make of it. This is partially because I’m very much a Star Trek agnostic. I’ve never been into Star Trek. In the last few years I’ve watched most of the pre-Next Gen motion pictures for inane list-making reasons, and I enjoyed them to varying degrees, but Star Trek is truly not for me. I’m more of a... well, I’m not a Star Wars guy either. What’s the other one? Uh... Spaceballs. That’s it. I’m more of a Spaceballs guy.

But I feel like I’ve absorbed a lot of Star Trek lore through cultural osmosis. I vaguely understand that William Shatner has had some deliberately-paced choreographed fight scene on those rocks from Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey. When I hear music similar to the the music that Jim Carrey hums in The Cable Guy, I’m pretty sure whatever it is I’m watching is doing a Star Trek thing. And yes, I’ve watched every single Red Letter Media “Mike and Rich talk about Star Trek for 4 hours” video. But even today, after having picked up more Star Trek knowledge on my journey to the grave, I still have this nagging feeling of “I only sort of get this”.

Still, this episode has a handful of screamingly funny lines, and the episode ends wonderfully, with Space Ghost in his death throes, suffering the ultimate indignity of dying in front of William Shatner. There’s also the part where Zorak asks why everyone in Star Trek is black, and a part where Moltar nervously reads from his fan fiction (from a book labeled TARD WARS, hahaha). Shatner, who has a reputation for being arrogant and difficult, is as good a sport as one could hope. The show makes good use of his hammier moments, and only shits on him slightly in the process. The most notable moment is when Shatner says to Zorak “didn't you and I fight to the death?” to which Zorak replies “That sounds pretty dumb, man”. I’ve actually quoted this line many times. It’s one of the best.

Also, for those of you who like to track these things: the show features callbacks to other episodes and shows; the handimen at Zorak’s apartment are clearly extras from Sealab 2020/2021, one of the Leprechauns from Aqua Teen Hunger Force shows up, and there’s a poignant callback to classic Space Ghost episode “Banjo”.

The title motif of this season is naming the episodes after Allman Brothers songs, and I always wondered about this one. Maybe I’m reaching, and it’s probably too disrespectful to be true, but I always thought that it was somehow a veiled reference to Shatner’s wife, whom he supposedly killed or let die. It’s simply too dark to be true, but it’s the first thought that immediately jumped to my mind when I first heard the title of this episode. Am I stupid for thinking this? Am I stupid because it OBVIOUSLY is a reference to that?? I simply do not know. I would like to know.

MAIL BAG

The big anniversary is upon us. What are your 20 favorite things about adult swim for 20 years going. Don't sleep on this question!

I gotta do SOMETHING special, so I might as well do this. More thought could have gone into this, but I spent about an hour trying to come up with episodes or moments from 20 different shows and putting them in rough chronological order. I limited myself to one episode/scene/moment/joke/whatever per show so it’s not all Space Ghost jokes. So, here we go:

Sealab 2021: “I, Robot”. Adult Swim proved it could be brilliant right out of the gate with the stealth premiere of “I, Robot”, but for Sealab it’s all downhill from here. (2000)

Space Ghost Coast to Coast: Space Ghost stops in his tracks to reminisce about the time Bobcat Goldthwait said "crack a window". The entire episode “Kentucky Nightmare” is brilliant, but this moment in particular so uniquely captures my sense of humor that it’s inexplicable. The dumb look on Space Ghost’s face when he stops in his tracks. Goddamn. (2001)

Aqua Teen Hunger Force: “Mayhem of the Mooninites” I tried very hard to make this all be individual jokes or scenes or whatever, but this is another episode where the entire thing is just line after line and I can’t really pick. This, “I Robot”, and “Kentucky Nightmare” is like a perfect trio illustrating how good Adult Swim really was right out of the gate. (2001)

Home Movies: Jason casually reveals that his parents have no idea who Brendon and Melissa are and that he spends most of his free-time making movies with them. This is the episode “Storm Warning” which is overall one of the best episodes of Home Movies, but this scene is probably my favorite. Illustrates how simple and hilarious the comedy is on this show. (2002)

Tom Goes to the Mayor: the end scene in “Undercover”, where they’ve shoddily reversed Tom’s various unnecessary surgeries and called him “Taumpy Tears” to boot. Positively sublime. (2006)

Metalocalypse: Dr. Rockso’s music video. From the episode “Dethclown”. I was never in love with this show as much as the true fans were, but there were a handful of incredible episodes. This episode basically tells one joke over and over and it’s very funny. It really ends with a bang showcasing Dr. Rockso’s shitty music video that celebrates cocaine use. His singing voice is hilarious. (2006)

Assy McGee: I am the only person in the world that defends Assy McGee as being “actually pretty good” and it’s all entirely due to this one line: Assy McGee (a pair of naked buttocks with legs, whose ass functions as his head) is forced to attend a black tie event and is just milling around wearing nothing but a black bow tie. Through clenched anus he delivers the line “I can barely breathe in this penguin suit”. The whole show is worth it for that joke. I don’t even know what episode it is except that it’s from one of the first few. I might not even have the line exactly right. But, I remember laughing so hard. I may not have laughed at Assy McGee again. (2006)

Saul of the Mole Men: The opening theme song. And nothing else. (2007)

Tim & Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!: Jim and Derrick. I should pick something more user-friendly maybe, since this episode almost entirely relies on being familiar with Tim & Eric’s previous episodes. But goddamn, this episode is such a funny concept (which is basically Tim & Eric doing an alternate MTV-ified version of Awesome Show) (2008)

Moral Orel: “Numb”. When Moral Orel suddenly stopped being a quirky Adult Swim comedy and suddenly started doing episodes that resembled art films. This episode is a fucking masterpiece. I remember sobbing the first time I saw it. There are a few in season 3 that are like that, but this one is my favorite. (2008)

Check it Out! with Dr. Steve Brule: Terry Bruge-Hiplo reviews “Dumpster’s Children”. Another bit of comedy that I’d describe as “inexplicable” and “sublime”, and it all hinges on an old man’s mouth. Holy fuck. I don’t think I’ve laughed harder than this at a TV show since. (2010)

Delocated: The ending of “Mole”, an extended Face/Off riff where Jon goes undercover as the scary mobster Sergei. In the final moments of the episode he marries a woman, fathers multiple children with her, and only then is pulled out of the mission. The episode is a tour-de-force of comic acting by Steve Cirbus, who is graciously allowed to shine for most of the episode. But man, that ending is fucking wonderful. (2010)

Venture Bros.: The ending of “Operation P.R.O.M.” a flurry of emotions hit me when “Like a Friend” by Pulp starts playing. The scene is so well done and weirdly touching. Brock realizes that deep down he gives a shit about the Venture family and is genuinely terrified something might happen to them. And then he gets to slaughter a bunch of Zorak monsters, which is also weirdly sweet. It’s even touching on a meta-level knowing that Jackson and Doc tried many times and failed to include licensed music in the show. I love Venture Bros, but I think we’d all be better off if this were the series finale. Sorry. I had to say it. (2010)

The Heart She Holler: The first scene with Patton being taught the way of the world posthumously by his father on a VHS tape. The first season of this show is amazing, but that scene, especially where Patton does a little Japanese bow and says “oh, hot dog!” is just hysterical. Literally every time a hot dog comes up in conversation my wife and I quote it. Please, do not scorn her, it’s not racist when SHE does it. (2011)

Eagleheart: The All That Jazz inspired finale. “Paradise Rising” is mostly a masterpiece, and how it ends is so fucking incredible. Easily the most under-rated show on Adult Swim and I’m not just saying that because... you know (mimes dick-sucking) (2014)

Rick and Morty: I watched the first two episodes of Rick and Morty, thought it was good, but for some reason didn’t become a devotee until my wife made me watch the Mr. Poopybutthole episode. It’s still my favorite episode, I think. (2015)

Brett Gelman’s Dinner in America: The “Dinner with” specials are all really good, but goddamn, this one hits. Should be shown in schools. I am going to go to every grade school in my county with an AR-15 (to get past the guards, of course) and I won’t leave until they call an assembly and they let me fumble around trying to find it on vimeo and play it for the students. (2016)

The Eric Andre Show: Eric interviews Steve Schirripa. The bit where he has an intern dip his balls in Steve’s spaghetti sauce is hilarious, naturally, but I’m here to showcase the running gag where every time Steve complains how hot the studio is, Eric just wordlessly hands him an ice cube until Steve explodes. It’s one of the most childishly hilarious things I’ve ever seen. It’s perfect. (2016)

Million Dollar Extreme Presents: World Peace: The Pick-Up artist sketch. I’m mostly unimpressed with MDE, and all but a few Sam Hyde bits leave me cold. But this sketch is a crowning achievement. I mean, I think these guys suck politically and are more mean than funny, but their sensibilities yielded one really incredible piece of comedy. Okay, I laughed at the blackface sketch too. There. You dragged it out of me. (2016) Joe Pera Talks With You: This show is beautiful and I love every episode. But the episode “Joe Pera Reads You The Church Announcements” Wherein Joe discovers a new-to-him song and can’t stop listening to it, is one of the most joyous episodes of television I’ve ever seen. A gateway episode. I tell everyone to please watch this one first. (2018)

#adult swim #space ghost coast to coast #adultswim2021

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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January 20, 2021: Taken (2008)

Well, I know one thing about this movie. He’s gonna find ‘em. And he’s gonna kill ‘em. And also, Luc Besson didn’t direct this movie! Yeah, my bad, he wrote this movie. But, then, he also wrote Leon, so I wasn’t entirely wrong. Anyway, 2008!

I remember this year well. Obama was elected the first Black president of the United States of America; the Olympics took place in Beijing, months after a massive earthquake in Sichuan; the Large Hadron Collider was totally gonna make a black hole; and, of course, the most important news event of that year: Iron Man and The Dark Knight came out.

And of course, the film Taken came out, creating what is arguably the most repeated film meme ever. Or, at the very least, it’s WAY up there. It’s a 12-year old meme at this point, but lemme tell ya: this thing was HUGE in 2008. Not the movie itself, just the meme. And I could lie and tell you that I’m watching this movie because it’s another French action thriller, and it’s fitting, but…

...it’s the meme. It’s 100% the meme, I’m not gonna lie to you guys. So, uh...yeah, Taken, let’s do this. SPOILERS AHEAD!

Recap

Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson) is dreaming of his daughter and wife. In the modern day, he brings a birthday gift to his daughter, Kim (Maggie Grace), and his bitter ex-wife Lenore (Famke Janssen), who is married to a very wealthy man, Stuart (Xander Berkeley). Bryan, meanwhile, is a recent and comparatively poor retiree, whose friends come over for a night of drinks.

Retiree from what, you ask? Well, it’s likely the CIA, given that his friends refer to military missions and Langley. They invite him to join security detail for a pop star, Sheerah (Holly Valance), In the process, he saves her from crazed fans, including a knife-wielding assailant. Not sure why that guy wants to LITERALLY STAB HER, but somebody needs to look into that guy!

Out of gratitude, Sheerah gives Bryan some references to give to his daughter, who wants to be a singer, apparently. However, when he sees her and Lenore the next day, all she wants from him is permission to go on a trip to Paris with her friends. When he shows his doubts for her safety, she’s upset, and his wife berates him for...government and military service? I mean, that stuff breaks up marriages, of course, but GODDAMN, Lenore’s bitter about it! Whoof.

Bryan’s definitely being made to be sympathetic, while Lenore’s the opposite of that. And Bryan’s understandably worried about his daughter’s safety, as she’ll be abroad. And we get the idea that Bryan’s a bit of a helicopter parent, but...c’mon! He’s underage daughter is asking to go to Paris with her friends! It’s cause for a parent to be worried, and yet Lenore is like, “She needs to be freeeeeeeeeee!” And that’s made even WORSE by the fact that both of them lie to Bryan, a father who clearly loves his daughter, because she’s actually following U2 on a music tour around Europe!

Which...really? U2? Who the hell can stand that much Bono, for their ENTIRE EUROPEAN TOUR? Anyway, what I’m saying is, Lenore sucks, and I’m not Kim’s biggest fan either. But I get the feeling that, given the one thing I know about this movie...Bryan’s gonna be proven right. So Kim and her friend, Amanda (Katie Cassidy) go to Europe, alone, despite Bryan’s understandable misgivings.

They IMMEDIATELY get hit on by Peter, a French boy who gives them a ride. He invites them to a party, Amanda accepts for them, and this is OBVIOUSLY A BAD IDEA. That’s even further confirmed by Peter making a mysterious call, telling the other person about the girls’ location. Kim doesn’t call Bryan, as promised, and Amanda is clearly a TERRIBLE influence. Looks like Bryan was completely right to be concerned, if his daughter’s gonna be so irresponsible. Oh, also because they’re about to get kidnapped.

Luckily, Kim had called Bryan just before, after realizing that he had called her, and he guides her through the upcoming kidnapping. With his help, although she gets kidnapped, Bryan is able to figure out that the kidnappers are Albanian, and that one of them is a six-foot tall bearded man with a moon and star tattoo on his right hand DAMN THAT’S OBSERVANT. But still...she’s been Taken.

Someone picks up the phone...and he says the speech.

youtube

Had to do it, folks. It’s the most iconic scene in the film. Time for action! Bryan calls a friend with Langley connections, then goes straight to Lenore and Stuart’s place, who find out that BRYAN WAS FUCKING RIGHT GODDAMMIT HOW DO YOU FEEL NOW

Having COMPLETELY FUCKED UP, Lenore asks Bryan to get her back safely. They actually figure out that the men who kidnapped her are professional sex-traffickers, who specialize in kidnapping travelling women and putting them in prostitution. But they tend to disappear...within 96 Hours. That’s how long Bryan has to find her, as well as being an alternate title for this film!

The time limit, by the way, is a common construct for the action-thriller. You know, “she has 12 hours to live,” that kind of deal. Thrillers are going to be peppered throughout this year, and there are a few coming up as well, so might as well start with this one, right?

Bryan flies to Paris, then makes his way to the apartment, tracing Kim’s steps up to her kidnapping. He also finds her destroyed phone, alongside an SD card with photos. From this, he gets a blurry look at Peter. I get the feeling that his face isn’t about to look much better. Speaking of, Peter’s playing his old tricks at the airport, and is caught by Bryan. Painfully caught. After Bryan fights off another guy, and chases Peter up a road, Peter also gets caught by karma.

80 hours left. Having exhausted options, Bryan meets an old contact, Jean-Claude (Olivier Rabourdin), who tells him where the Albanians hang out. He hires an Albanian translator, then heads for a prostitute-heavy area. He harrangues a prostitute until her manager comes out, whom he puts a small microphone on. With the translator’s help, he discovers that they’re having “merchandise problems” at a construction site.

Following a hunch, he makes his way there, and sees several drug-addicted young women in a makeshift brothel. Also there is his daughter’s jacket. The prostitute that has it, however, is not exactly cognitively sound at the moment. So...she’s Taken. By Bryan, who fights his way out of the brothel and construction site, with gunshots, explosions, and car chases along the way.

Bryan brings the girl back to a hotel, where he somehow gets ahold of an IV and medicine, and detoxes her in the room. Which, given the time frame and other factors...seems like a very large risk to take for testimony that, let’s be honest, right not exist. Still, as this is happening, he gets a call from Jean-Claude, asking to meet.

56 hours left. After 7 people dead, a destroyed trailer, and 3 people injured (and probably stolen medicine from a hospital, let’s be honest), Bryan isn’t exactly the best friend of the French government. He escapes police custody and heads back to the hotel, where the girl is cogent enough to remember where she got the jacket: from Kim herself, at the house with the red door on the road of paradise. No, really.

Bryan gets to the house, and poses as Jean-Claude...badly. He apparently passes his bluff check, and takes advantage of a corrupt police system, and makes them give him protection money. Over the course of the conversation, he figures out that one of them is Marco. Which means that he found him. And he said that when he found him…

After that spree is done, he searches the facility and looks for Kim. He doesn’t find her...but he does find Amanda. And sadly, he’s too late for her. Turns out, though, that he didn’t kill Marko (Arben Bajraktaraj), the leader of the group. And of course not! He has some questions.

Bryan tortures Marko using electricity, and he reveals that Kim’s been sold quickly, as she is a virgin. She’s been sold to Patrice Saint-Clair (Gerard Watkins), although Marko doesn’t know where he is. And so, Bryan fulfills his promise, and electrocutes him. He then makes his way to meet Jean-Claude at his home. And, uh...that’s when he crosses a line.

...Um. Bryan shot his wife. And yeah, Jean-Claude’s clearly not on the up-and-up, but he’s not directly complicit in the kidnapping of his daughter. And yeah, he’s in Bryan’s way, but JESUS CHRIST DUDE. He officially loses the moral high-ground here for me, even if his cause is just. Jean-Claude concedes, and Bryan gets the information that he’s looking for and leaves, knocking Jean-Claude out in the process.

Bryan goes to the Saint-Clair residence, where an auction is taking place for various young women. The last of these is, of course, Kim. Having barged into a booth of one of the buyers, he forces him to buy Kim (ew). Unfortunately, he’s caught and chained to a pipe, where Saint-Clair’s henchmen are about to kill him. But, of course...

Bryan escapes and kills Saint-Clair in the process, but not before finding out that Kim’s been Taken to a boat. He obtains a car, and after a length (and seizure-inducing) car chase, gets onto the boat, which is owned by the Sheik, a man of unknown Arabic origin. And yeah, in case you were wondering, this feels very...VERY...wrong. It’s brief, yeah, but...you gave a rich Arabic guy multiple wives obtained through illegal means and made them the main villain? FUCKIN’ OOF BRUV

Anyway, as expected, Bryan kicks the asses of everybody on the boat, and finally rescues Kim, killing the Sheik in the process. The two have a tearful embrace, and Bryan NEVER LETS HER OUT OF HIS SIGHT AGAIN PROBABLY. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT BONO. THIS IS ALL YOUR GODDAMN FAULT.

Well, Bryan wins the I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG GODDAMIT award, Kim gets to go home and meet that singer from before, Lenore gives Bryan some consideration as a human being for once, Stuart stepfathers, and that’s Taken! Also, WHERE IN THE HELL ARE AMANDA’S PARENTS, A GIRL IS DEAD

Epilogue soon!

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futuristicsaladparadise · 4 years ago

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The McConnell siblings

Heather Miyuki McConnell

Rustling Pines Elementary, Lakewood Michigan, 1999 (school picture)

Date of birth: June 17, 1990

Place of birth: Lakewood, Michigan

Parents: Michael and Kazuko (Ito) McConnell

Siblings: Jason Hideaki McConnell, Jess Akiko McConnell

Spouse: Andrei Alexandrovitch Nazarbayev

Children: Annika Jessalyn, Lilia Isabelle

Place of residence: Sun Valley, Texas

Occupation: bookkeeper, Ladd & Company (furloughed due to COVID)

Education: Lakeview Ridge High School, class of 2008; licensed bookkeeper, Fairfield Community College; attended University of Kansas for 2 years, majoring in journalism

Hobbies: writing, yoga

Q: What was your dream job when you were a kid, and how did you become interested in it?

“I wanted to be a journalist since I was about 10, I think? My parents watched a lot of news and documentaries, and I was fascinated by the reporters and narrators. I took my first journalism and yearbook courses in middle and high school. It sounded exciting – I wanted to be able to go to exotic locations and report on what I found. I suppose I wanted to be famous, too. What girl doesn’t want to be?”

Q: How did you and your significant other meet?

“I met Andrei in one of our required freshman courses at U of K, I can’t remember which. He was kind of nerdy-but-sweet looking, with crazy long eyelashes behind his glasses. I thought he would be shy, but he asked me out while we were working on our first group project. We’ve been inseparable ever since!”

Q: Why didn’t you finish college?

“I didn’t finish college because life got in the way. Pregnancy, marriage…suddenly we had 2 babies and just couldn’t keep up!”

Q: Do you regret your choice?

“My family is my life. I would rather have them over a degree any day, no matter how hard it is. Even though it’s been hard not to have the income, I have been glad to have more time to spend with my girls.”

Q: What is your most ardent wish?

“I wish my parents were closer. Andrei’s parents live next door and it’s wonderful, but I’d like to see my parents and brother and sister more often. I’m going to be an auntie and I’m not sure when I’ll get to meet my niece or nephew, and I’m afraid my sister’s graduation may have to be online. I really want to be there for those things.”

Jason Hideaki McConnell

Rustling Pines Elementary, Lakewood Michigan, 2002 (school picture)

Date of birth: October 3, 1993

Place of birth: Lakewood, Michigan

Parents: Mike and Kazuko (Ito) McConnell

Siblings: Heather Miyuki Nazarbayev, Jess Akiko McConnell

Spouse: Laura Katherine Barber

Children: unknown, due May 2021

Place of residence: Minneapolis, Minnesota

Occupation: architect, Goliath Construction (furloughed due to COVID)

Education: Lakeview Ridge High School, class of 2010; Bachelor’s degree in graphic design, University of Utah; Master’s degree in architecture, Washington State University

Hobbies: skiing, snowboarding, hockey, soccer, hiking

“I like art, and geometry, and useful things. Architecture pays better than being a PE coach or shop teacher somewhere, and most of the time we can go on vacation and do all the sports Laura and I love.”

“Winter break, 2011. I was in Utah, snowboarding at Snowbird, and this other snowboarder was showboating, so I started showing off and, like the idiots we were, kept trying to one-up each other. I ended up crashing, breaking my ankle AND dislocating my shoulder. I didn’t even know she was the guy I had been competing with until the next day, when we ran into each other on the bus back to campus and she offered to buy me drinks as a way of apologizing. She’s a knockout, quite literally, and 5’11” to boot. Best worst date ever.”

“I’ve got it pretty good. I don’t know what I’d wish for. Olympic gold in snowboarding. Yeah.”

Jess Akiko McConnell

Place of birth: Lakewood, Michigan

Parents: Mike and Kazuko (Ito) McConnell

Siblings: Heather Miyuki Nazarbayev, Jason Hideaki McConnell

Spouse: engaged, Henry David Campbell

Children: none

Place of residence: Lakewood, Michigan

Occupation: student, pursuing doctorate in marine ecology, University of California (on hiatus due to COVID)

Education: Lakeview Ridge High School, class of 2014; Bachelor’s and master’s degrees in marine biology, University of Texas at Galveston

Hobbies: soccer, snowboarding, wildlife rescue volunteer

“My parents took me to Belize with them when I was ten, and although we were there for an archaeological dig, I ended up taking care of this orphaned baby parrot. That got me interested in animals, and tropical wildlife, and then ocean life, and now here I am.”

“He was my TA while I was an undergrad. We didn’t start dating until the following year, when he wasn’t anymore, but I’m pretty sure everybody knew. We flirted kind of a lot.”

“I wish I could explain…or just have people understand and stop the damage we are doing to the world. Millions of tons of garbage, plastics, in the ocean, corporations spewing out carbon and chemicals… It doesn’t just affect others. It’s all of us. It’s you. It’s me. It’s the animals, the marine life, it’s everything. We’re driving ourselves to extinction.”

I tried to make Heather’s and Jason’s photos accurate to the late 90s. We had laser backgrounds for our school pictures back then, and Heather’s bangs are similar to what girls would have worn. Since they’re pictured as elementary schoolers, I dressed them how a parent might have, instead of in the grunge or baggy styles.

Some parts of the photos are edited, and the one of Jess is not mine.

Also, he’s not a McConnell, but Heather’s husband (and Annika and Lily’s dad), so I did one for Andrei, too.

Andrei Alexandrovitch Nazarbayev

Houston Texas, 1998

Date of birth: April 26, 1990

Place of birth: Moscow, Russia

Parents: Alexander Mikhailovitch Nazarbayev and Anna Sergeievna (Semyonova) Nazarbayeva

Siblings: none

Spouse: Heather Miyuki McConnell

Children: Annika Jessalyn, Lilia Isabelle

Place of residence: Sun Valley, Texas

Occupation: linesman, Satterfield Energy

Education: West Caddo High School, class of 2008; attended University of Kansas for 2 years, majoring in engineering and piano performance

Hobbies: drawing, piano, biking

“Ever since I can remember, I wanted to an engineer. And a famous pianist. I never could make up my mind. I was actually supposed to be majoring in piano because I had a piano scholarship, but I ended up being more interested in engineering. There’s this beauty in mathematics, and it’s hard to explain to most people, because they think math is hard. It’s beautiful, and orderly.”

“I met Heather in our mandatory US history class. She sat at the front, and I sat at the back. When she walked in, she had this glow, you know? I knew she was the one but couldn’t figure out how to approach her until we were put together for a group project. I knew it was then or never, so I asked her out and she said yes.”

“I never got my degree because I met the girl of my dreams, and when I had to choose between her and our family, or school, I chose her. How could I regret that?”

“It would have been nice to finish, and we’ve talked about my going back to school once this whole pandemic is past, now that our girls are able to take care of themselves a bit. My parents have even offered to pay, but I’m working so much overtime right now to cover for coworkers out due to COVID, I just don’t have the time.”

“I wish…hmm. I wish I was a millionaire and could travel the world with my family. Maybe we could buy a boat and sail around the world for a few years. I would definitely take my parents, wife, and daughters to Russia…Moscow, Omsk, St. Petersburg…and show them where I was born and where their grandparents grew up. Family is important.”

#Jess McConnell #all grown up

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bensk · 4 years ago

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Be curious. Be humble. Be useful.

I was invited to give the annual Taub Lecture for graduating Public Policy students at the University of Chicago, my alma mater and the department from which I graduated. This is what I came up with.

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I am incredibly grateful and honored to be here tonight. The Public Policy program literally changed my life.

My name is Ben Samuels-Kalow, my pronouns are he/him/his. I’m a 2012 Public Policy graduate, and I will permit myself one “back in my day” comment: When I was a student here, the “Taub Lecture” were actual lectures given by Professor Taub in our Implementation class. I’ve spent the last nine years teaching in the South Bronx. For the past two years, I have served as Head of School at Creo College Prep, a public charter school that opened in 2019.

I was asked tonight to tell you a bit about my journey, and the work that I do. My objection to doing this is that there is basically nothing less interesting than listening to a white man tell you how he got somewhere, so I'll keep it brief. I grew up in New York City and went to a public high school that turned out Justice Elena Kagan, Chris Hayes, Lin-Manuel Miranda, among many others…none of whom were available tonight.

We, on this Zoom, all have one thing in common — we have been very, very close to graduating from the University of Chicago. I have never sat quite where you sit. I didn’t graduate into a pandemic. But the truth is that everyone graduates into a crisis. The periods of relative ease, the so-called “ends of history”, even the end of this pandemic, are really matters of forced perspective. This crisis isn’t over. Periods of relative peace and stability paper over chasms of structural inequality.

You went to college with the people who will write the books and go on the talk shows and coin the phrases to describe our times. You could write that book. You could go into consulting and spend six weeks at a time helping a company figure out how to maximize profits from their Trademark Chasm Expanding Products.

You could also run into the chasm.

What is the chasm?

It is the distance between potential and opportunity. It is a University on the South Side of Chicago with a student body that is 10% Black and 15% Latinx, with a faculty that is 65% white.

It is eight Black students being admitted to a top high school in New York City...in a class of 749.

What is the chasm?

The chasm is that in our neighborhood in The Bronx, where I’m standing right now, 1 in 4 students can read a book on their grade level, and only 1 in 10 will ever sit in a college class.

It is maternal mortality and COVID survival rates. The chasm is generational wealth and payday loans.

It is systemic racism and misogyny.

It is the case for activism and reparations.

In my job, the chasm is the distance between the creativity, brilliance, and wit that my students possess, and the opportunities the schools in our neighborhood provide.

In the zip code in which I grew up in New York City, the median income is $122,169. In the zip code where I have spent every day working since I graduated from UChicago, the median income is $30,349. The school where I went to 7th grade and this school where next year we will have our first 7th grade are only a 15 minute drive apart.

In my first quarter at UChicago, I joined the Neighborhood Schools Program, and immediately fell in love with working in schools. I joined NSP because a friend told me how interesting she found the work. I’d done some tutoring in high school, and had taught karate since I was 15. I applied, was accepted, and worked at Hyde Park Academy on 62nd and Stony Island in a variety of capacities from 2008 to 2012.

At the time, Hyde Park Academy had one of very few International Baccalaureate programs on the South Side, and every spring, parents would line up out the door of the school to try to get their rising 9th grader in. I worked with an incredible mentor teacher and successive classes of high school seniors whose wit, creativity, and skill would've been at home in the seminars and dorm discussions we all have participated in three blocks north of their high school.

In my work at Hyde Park Academy, I learned the first lesson of three lessons that have shaped my career as a teacher. Be curious. I had been told in Orientation that there were “borders” to the UChicago experience, lines we should not cross. I am forever grateful to the people who told me to ignore that BS. Our entire department is a testimony to ignoring that BS. We ask questions like, why did parents line up for hours to get into what was considered a “failing” high school? Why had no one asked my kids to write poetry before? Why are they more creative and better at writing than most of the kids I went to high school with, but there is only one IB class and families have to literally compete to get in? I learned as much from my job three blocks south of the University as I did in my classes at the University...which is to say, I was learning a LOT, but I had a lot more to learn.

I knew I wanted to be a teacher from my first quarter here. I did my research. The Boston Teacher Residency was the top program in the country, so I applied there. I was a 21 year old white man interested in education, so...I applied to Teach for America. In the early 2010’s, I looked like the default avatar on a Teach for America profile. It was my backup option. I was all in on Boston, and was sure, with four years working in urban schools, a stint at the Urban Education Institute, and, at the time, seven years of karate teaching under my belt, I was a shoe in.

I was rejected from both programs. Which brings me to my second lesson. Be humble. We are destined for and entitled to nothing. There is an aphorism I learned from one of my favorite podcasts, Another Round: "carry yourself with the confidence of a mediocre white man." If you are a mediocre white man, like me, do as much as you can not to be. If you look like me, you live life on the "lowest difficulty setting." This means I need to question my gifts, contextualize my successes, and actively work against systems of oppression that perpetuate inequity.

Over the last two years, I have interviewed over 300 people to work at this school. There are a series of questions that I ask folks with backgrounds like myself:

Have you ever lived in a neighborhood that was majority people of color?

Have you ever worked on a team that was majority people of color?

Have you ever worked for a boss/supervisor/leader who was a person of color?

The vast majority of white folks, myself at 21 included, could not answer “yes” to these three questions. This is disappointing, but I've also lived and worked in two of the most segregated cities on this continent, so it is not surprising. By the time I sat where you’re sitting now, I had learned a lot about education policy and sociology. I'd taken every class that Chad offered at the time. I'd worked at UEI, I'd worked in a South Side high school for four years, and I still thought I was entitled to something. Unlearning doesn't usually happen in a moment, and I certainly didn't realize it at the time, but these rejections were the best thing that has happened to me in my growth as a human.

I moved back home to New York, was accepted to my last-choice teaching program, and started teaching at MS 223: The Laboratory School of Finance & Technology. I ended up teaching there for 5 years. I had incredible mentors, met some of my best friends, started a Computer Science program that’s used as a model at hundreds of schools across New York City…and most importantly, while making copies for Summer School in July of 2015, I met my wife.

All this to say — if you aren’t 100% convinced that what you’re doing next year is Your Thing, keep an open mind…and make frequent stops in the copy room.

I learned that teaching was My Thing. I didn't want to do ed policy research. I got to set education policy, conduct case studies, key informant interviews, run statistical analysis…with 12 year olds. This was the thing I couldn’t stop talking about, reading about, learning about. I really and truly did not care about the “UChicago voices” of my parents and my friends who kept asking what I was going to do next. My answer: teach.

If you look like me, and you teach Computer Science, there are opportunities that come flying your way. I was offered jobs with more prestige, jobs with more pay, jobs far away from the South Bronx. I was offered jobs I would have loved. But I’d learned a third lesson: be useful. If you have a degree from this place, people will always ask you what the next promotion or job is. They will ask "what's next for you" and they will mean it with respect and admiration.

Here’s the thing: teaching was what’s next. “But don’t you want to work in policy?” Teaching is a political act. It is hands-on activism, it is community organizing, it is high-tech optimistic problem-solving and low-tech relationship building. It is the reason we have the privilege of choosing a career, and it is a career worth choosing.

I had internalized what I like to call the Dumbledore Principle: “I had learned that I was not to be trusted with power.” This meant unlearning the very UChicago idea that if you were smart and if you think and talk like we are trained to think and talk at this place, you should be in charge. The best things in my life have come from unlearning that. Learning from mentors to never speak the way I was praised for in a seminar. Learning from veteran teachers how to be a warm demander who was my authentic best self...and more importantly brought out the authentic best self in my students. Being useful isn't the same thing as being in charge…and that is ok.

I believe this deeply. Which is why, when I was offered the opportunity to design and open a school, my first thought was absolutely the hell no. I said to my wife: “I’m a teacher. Dumbledore Principle — we’re supposed to teach, make our classrooms safe and wonderful for our kids.”

I also knew that teaching kids to code wasn’t worth a damn if they couldn’t read and write with conviction, so I started looking for schools that did both — treated kids like brilliant creatives who should learn to create the future AND met them where they were with rigorous coursework that closed opportunity gaps. In our neighborhood, there were schools that did the latter, that got incredible results for kids. Then there was my school, where kids learned eight programming languages before they graduated, but at which only 40% of our kids could read.

We were lauded for this, by the way. 40% was twice the average in our district. We were praised for the Computer Science — the mayor of New York and the CEO of Microsoft visited and met with my students. It felt great. I wasn’t convinced it was useful.

Kids in the neighborhood where I grew up didn’t have to choose between a school that was interesting and a school that equipped them with the knowledge and skills to pursue their own interests in college and beyond. Why did our students have to choose? I delivered this stressed-out existential monologue to my wife that boiled down to this: every kid deserves a school where they were always safe, and never bored. We weren’t working at a school like that. I was being offered a chance to design one. But…Dumbledore principle.

My wife took it all in, looked at me, and said: “You idiot. Dumbledore RAN a school.”

Friends, you deserve a partner like this.

The road to opening Creo College Prep, and the last two years of leading our school as we opened, closed, opened online, finished our first year, moved buildings, opened online again, opened in-person (kind of) and now head into our third year, has reinforced my lessons from teaching — be curious, be humble, be useful. These lessons are about both learning and unlearning. A white guy doing Teach for America at 21 is a stereotype. A white guy starting a charter school is a stereotype with significant capital, wading into complicated political and pedagogical waters. The lessons I learn opening a school and the unlearning I must do to be worthy of the work are not destinations, they are journeys.

Be curious

I didn’t just open a school. Schools are communities, they are institutions, and they are bureaucracies. If you work very, very hard, and with the right people, they become engines that turn coffee and human potential into joy and intellectual thriving capable of altering the trajectory of a child’s life.

First you have to find the right people. I joined a school design fellowship, spent a year visiting 50 high-performing schools across the country, recruited a founding board of smart, committed people who hold me accountable, and spent time in my community learning from families what they wanted in a school. There is studying public policy, and then there is attending Community Board meetings and Community Education Council Meetings, and standing outside of the Parkchester Macy's handing out flyers and getting petition signatures at Christmastime next to the mall Santa.

I observed in schools while writing my BA, and as a teacher, but it was in this fellowship that I learned to “thin slice,” a term we borrowed from psychology that refers to observing a small interaction and finding patterns about the emotions and values of people. In a school, it means observing small but crucial moments — how does arrival work, how are students called on, how do they ask for help in a classroom, how do they enter and leave spaces, how do they move through the hallways, where and how do teachers get their work done — and gleaning what a school values, and how that translates into impact for kids. Here’s how I look at schools:

Does every adult have an unwavering belief that students can, must, and will learn at the highest level?

Do they have realistic and urgent plans for getting every kid there? Are these beliefs and plans clear and held by kids?

Are all teachers strategic, valorizing planning and intellectual nerdery over control or power?

Is the curriculum worthy of the kids?

Can kids explain why the school does things they way they do? Can staff? Can the leader?

If I'm in the middle of teaching and I need a pen or a marker, what do I do? Is that clear?

What’s the attendance rate? How do we follow up on kids who aren’t here?

How organized and thoughtful are the physical and digital spaces?

Are kids seen by their teachers? Are their names pronounced correctly? Do their teachers look like them? Do they make them laugh, think, and revise their answers?

Would I want to work here? Would I send my own kids here?

Be humble

I learned that there are really two distinct organizations that we call “school.” One is an accumulation of talent (student and staff) that happens to be in the same place at the same time, operating on largely the same schedule.

These were the schools I attended. These are schools you got to go to if you got lucky and you were born in a zip code with high income and high opportunity. These are schools where you had teachers who were intellectually curious, and classmates whose learning deficits could be papered over by social capital…and sometimes, straight up capital.

“Accumulation of talent” also describes the schools I worked at. These were schools where if you got lucky and you were extraordinary in your intelligence, determination, support network, and teachers who’d decided to believe in you, you became one of the stories we told. “She got into Cornell.” “That whole English class got into four year colleges.”

Most schools in this country, it turns out, are run like this. I knew all about local control and the limits of federal standards on education and the battles over teacher evaluations and so much other helpful and important context I learned in my PBPL classes. But when thin-slicing a kindergarten classroom in Nashville on my first school visit of the Fellowship, I saw a whole other possibility of what “school” can be.

School can be a special place organized towards a single purpose. One team, one mission. Where the work kids do in one class directly connects to the next, and builds on the prior year. Where kids are treated like the important people they are and the important people they will be, where students and staff hold each other to a high bar, where there is rigor and joy. A place where staff train together so that instead of separate classrooms telling separate stories about how to achieve, there is one coherent language that gives kids the thing they crave and deserve above all else: consistency.

We get up every morning to build a school like that. It’s why my team starts staff training a month before the first day of school. It’s why we practice teaching our lessons so that we don’t waste a moment of our kids’ time. It’s why everyone at our school has a coach, including me, so we can be a better teacher tomorrow than we were today. It’s why we plan engaging, culturally responsive, relevant lessons. It’s how we keep a simple, crucial promise to every family: at this school, you will always be safe, and you will never be bored.

Be useful

Statistically speaking, it is not out of the realm of possibility that several of you will one day be in a position to make big sweeping policy changes. You will have the power to not only write position papers, but to Make Big Plans. I will be rooting for you, but I hope that you won’t pursue Big Plans for the sake of Big Plans.

The architect who designed the Midway reportedly said "make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood." I had that quoted to me in several lectures at this school, and you know what?

It’s bullshit.

I am asking you not to care about scale. Good policy isn’t about scale, it’s about implementation, and implementation requires the right people on the ground. Implementation can scale. The right people cannot. We can Make Big Plans, but every 6th grade math class still needs an excellent math teacher. That's a job worth doing. I could dream about starting 20 schools, but every school needs a leader. That’s a job worth doing. Places like UChicago teach us to ask "what's next" for our own advancement, to do this now so we can get to that later. I learned to ask "what's next" to be as useful as possible to as many kids as I have in front of me.

I hold these two thoughts in my mind:

The educational realities of the South Bronx have a lot more to do with where highways were built in our neighborhood than with No Child Left Behind or charter schools, and require comprehensive policy change that address not only educational inequity, but environmental justice, and systemic racism.

The most useful policy changes I can make right now are to finalize the schedule for our staff work days that start on June 21, get feedback on next year’s calendar from families, and finish hiring the teachers our kids deserve.

I will follow the policy debates of #1 with great interest, but I know where I can be useful, and I’ll wake up tomorrow excited to make another draft of the calendar. I hope you get to work on making your Small Plans, and I will leave you with the secret — or at least the way that worked for me:

Find yourself people who are smarter than you and who disagree with you. Find problems you cannot shut up or stop thinking about. Do what you can’t shut up about with intellect and kindness. Use the privilege and opportunity that we have because we went to this school to make sure that opportunity for others does not require privilege. Run into the chasm.

Be curious, be humble, be useful.

Thank you.

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