#it is my Personal Belief that before michael left william had gone (you know his whole escapade under his fake name before he gets

[bravevolunteer]

i poke fun at michael a lot for not hitting the fucking bricks but i do spin around thoughts about how he DID plan on exactly that and tried for about a few years probably— i still need to figure out where and settle on the exact time frame but i think once he was old enough he moved for a bit. probably not VERY far, definitely still in the state with plans to work and save money for awhile before either going to school or finding a better job further away. that is, until he got that message (call, letter, lost tape, what have you) calling him for sister location and just couldn’t ignore it… so he went back to hurricane. stayed in their abandoned house. finally found out the full truth about the possession and was left with no purpose but to end what his father started.

[ravens-words]

Tell me how all this (and love, too) will ruin us

For @bamfalexmanes ❤ Elle, I hope you like it

The one in which Michael and Alex have a talk, some truths are revealed and a new hope is born.

This is a sequel of a sort to we burned down our paper house.

Happy Reading!!

.

"Are you okay?"

Michael looked up quickly, too quickly if the way his vision blurred for a second was an indication, and found Alex looking down at him with a frown of concern.

Michael hated it. He also wanted to put his lips to those three lines that resided in between his brows and kiss it away. 

"I'm fine," he mumbled pathetically, looking away before his thoughts became too hard to conceal and showed up on his face. Neither of them would be ready for that.

Alex crouched beside him and Michael's eyes flickered up to meet his. He smiled, and Michael's treacherous heart beat a hard rhythm against his chest. "You're not fine," he told him casually.

Michael laughed bitterly. Of course he wasn't alright. There was an ancient, psychotic alien who looked like his brother's twin living in his bunker. Max wasn't getting any better, seemed to be even more manic now that that they'd found Jones. And Michael had to live everyday with a regret that threatened to choke him alive every single time he saw Alex and Forrest together. When he'd walked away in the middle of Alex's song, he hadn't been thinking clearly. He'd been so sure that it wasn't their time, that they would have time later, that they weren't ready in that moment. He'd known, in his bones, that he and Alex were meant for each other. They'd loved each other through the worst of times, and still do after almost twelve years. Whatever thing he had with Forrest wouldn't last, Michael had convinced himself, but- Alex needed it. Alex needed something light and good and happy and fleeting, just like what he'd had with Maria. 

After he had tried with Maria, Michael's belief that Alex was the only one for him had been cemented. Selfleshly, he'd wanted the same to happen for Alex. Michael had desperately needed that reassurance. 

It had backfired on him, because of all the things he'd accounted for in the minute it took to make the decision to walk away, he hadn't accounted for the most important one; having to watch the love of his life be with someone else. Having to watch him kiss someone else, laugh with someone else and wishing that it was him. 

Jealousy wasn't a new thing to Michael. He'd spent his whole life, it felt like, being jealous. Jealous of Max and Isobel for getting the family while he got bounced around from home to home. Jealous of Max and Isobel when they literally killed people, and yet his life turne out to be the worst out of the three of them. Jealous of Isobel for getting married to the person she loved and building herself a home (before Noah turned out to be a serial killer). And now, jealous of Forrest Long, of all people, for getting to be with Alex in a way Michael had not been in all the years they'd been in love. 

"This is about me and Forrest, isn't it?" Even though it was phrased as one, Michael knew it wasn't a question. 

He didn't answer. Ashamed and guilty and relieved that Alex got it without him having to say it. 

Alex sighed. "I watched you be with Maria for a lot longer, you know," he told him mildly, tone almost teasing. 

Michael found himself silent again, because yeah, Alex had watched him be with Maria for nearly a year and had been gracious about it. He had been supportive, even, according to Maria. Michael wanted to do the same, had been trying for a little less than a month with varying degrees of success. 

He didn't know how Alex could stand it. 

"It's not about you and Forrest." One last ditch effort to be the friend and not the helpless fool in love. 

It didn't work. Of course it didn't work. 

Alex raised his eyebrows.  "Did you really think that would work?"

Michael shrugged. "Figured I had to try."

Alex shifted from his crouch to sit beside Michael, and their shoulders brushed. The touch sent shivers down his spine and he had to fight the instinct to lean closer. Damn, but he missed the closeness, the comfort of it. "Well, now that you have, are you ready to tell me why you're here on your own instead of being inside with all of us?"

"Is it me?" He found himself asking. He sounded like a small child and found himself looking down to avoid looking at Alex. 

He felt Alex stiffen beside him And immediately wanted to take it back. He didn't, though. After a few seconds of silence, Alex relaxed and let out a slow breath. "Something that you never managed to understand, Michael, was that at no point in the past eleven years was I ever ashamed of you. It was never about you. It was my father, it was the military, it was me. But it was never you. That is, until you chose to do something illegal on our first date."

Michael looked up at the sky and shook his head as they both laughed softly. He marveled at how far they had come, that they could laugh about something that had torn them apart two years ago. 

Once their laughter died down, Alex spoke again. "You have to understand that my father made me live in fear for a really, really long time. He- I was thirteen when I figured out I was gay, and twelve when he did. From that moment on, I lived in constant fear of being myself. The only time I wasn't aftlraid was with you. And we both know how that turned out."

It hurt to hear, because Alex didn't deserve any of it, but knowing that he had somehow helped, that Alex wasn't ashamed of him, was a balm on a gaping wound that had been bleeding for a long time. 

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Alex smiled, reassuring. "Now get up, suck it up and come inside." Though outwardly his demeanor was light, Michael could tell this was a test. He'd never failed a test in his life and he was damned if he was going to start now. 

He got up, followed Alex inside and sucked it up.

.................

"Guerin!" 

Michael grinned automatically and spun around to greet Alex. To his surprise, he wasn't alone. The man with him was just a little shorter, but was built like a tank. Alex clapped him on the shoulder and smiled at him. "Hey."

"Hi."

Alex gestured at the man. "This is Bradley Williams, a buddy of mine."

"Hey, man," Michael took over the introduction. "Michael Guerin. Nice-" he trailed off as the man's eyes widened and his head spun around to look at Alex with a speed that had him wondering how his head was still attached. "-to meet you?" He looked between the two men. The man was grinning ear to ear now, while Alex was glaring daggers at him. "Am I missing something here?"

"Yes," Bradley said.

"No," Alex countered, in a way that left no room for argument.

Michael was surprised to see the man back off immediately and wondered exactly how the two had met. It must have been the air force, but it wouldn't explain the evident closeness. The two seemed like brothers.

"Listen, his car is a mess. But h's stubborn and won't admit he can't fix it. Can you take a look at it and tell him he needs to have a professional fix it?" The last part, though addressed to him, was said pointedly in Bradley's direction. 

"Sure thing."

The car was a mess. Alex took too much pleasure in being right and processed to give Bradley shit the second Michael confirmed it. Seeing Alex like this, happy and carefree, never failed to make Michael's heart swell with fondness for him. It was seriously a problem.

About fifteen minutes later, Alex got a call and stepped away from them. "You know, this is gonna take a while, so you can just go and I'll give you or Alex a call when it's ready."

"Nah," he said with forced casualness. "I'm good here. Plus, he's probably gonna go back to the base- yup, there's that look." When Bradley pointed the bottle in Alex's direction, Michael's eyes followed and noticed the serious look on his face.

"I gotta go back to the base," he told them, putting the phone in his back pocket. "Let me drive you to the house?"

Bradley leaned back in his chair. "I'm good here, cap; you go ahead."

They locked eyes and after a few seconds, Alex nodded, giving him a wry smile. Michael felt like an outsider as they seemed to have an entire conversation without saying a thing.

Once Alex was gone, the other man turned to him. "Forgive my bluntness, but why the hell aren't you two together?"

Michael's head whipped around and he stared at the man, pissed off and in awe in equal measures. Had he managed to figure out Michael was in love with Alex from spending twenty minutes with them? "What?" He spluttered.

Bradley shook his head. "He told me about you. The way-"

Michael's whole world did a somersault around its axis. "He- he talked about me?"

The older man's forehead crinkled in a frown, but then his features softened and he let out a huff of a breath that could have been a laugh. "Yes, he talked about you. Not much, mind you. He kept a lot of things close to the vest back then, still does, but- everyone in our unit kinda knew there was someone special for him back home, way before he told me." 

Someone special. At a time where he'd thought of himself as an afterthought, a dirty secret, in Alex's life, the people closest to him at the time had thought he was someone special. 

"Every time he talked to you on the phone, he'd be settled, more- alive, I guess- for the next couple of days. Sometimes, I'd even catch him on the phone with you and he'd have this look on his face and I just knew."

"Knew what?" Michael managed to say, heart in his throat. 

"That he loved you. And from what I've seen, that hasn't changed, has it?" 

A part of Michael wanted to snap at him and tell him to mind his own business. Another part wanted to get down on his knees and beg him to tell him more. 

"What did he say about me?" He found himself asking, voice barely above a whisper.

"That you're smart. Kind. That he- he was bleeding out in my arms and all he could talk about was you." Bradley sucked in a harsh breath, and Michael envied his ability to do that, because couldn't draw a single breath. "He was dying, and all he wanted was for you to know; practically begged me to be the one to tell you."

"That he loved me?" Michael's voice cracked, but he ignored it, eyes on the other man. 

"That he'd died, Michael. He didn't want you to keep guessing, I think." Bradley looked him straight in the eye and Michael saw the tears that had gathered there. It made Michael feel better about the tears in his own eyes. 

"If something does happen to you, half the town will know before I do and that's because no one would even think to tell me." He remembered saying on the last phone call they'd had, nearly four years ago. 

He'd been angry when he'd said that; angry and afraid. The idea that his words had stayed with Alex, that he'd been thinking about him when he'd been bleeding, dying, broke his heart and mended it in the same breath. Not for the first time, he ached for him, for them, for everything they could have been and everything they could have had. 

Michael stopped working on the car and sat down heavily in the chair next to him, and Bradley kindly offered him the rest of his beer, eyes forward, probably to give Michael the opportunity to breakdown in peace. But Michael didn't fall apart, he just drank the beer and then stood up to finish the work, not saying a word even when Bradley stood up and walked closer. 

"I met Forrest yesterday. Between you and me? I'm rooting for you," he told him with a smirk, patting his shoulder twice before he left, leaving a stunned Michael in his wake.

......

It took two days for Michael to gather up the courage to talk to Alex. When he reached his house, he found him on a lawn chair, headphones in and his head bopping to the beat of a song only he knew. Michael stopped to stare at him, and really, it was ridiculous how far he was gone for the man that he was staring at the back of his head like a lovesick fool. 

He took a few steps closer, until he was beside him and when Alex looked up and smiled at him, Michael smiled back automatically. "Writing another song about me?" He asked, teasing.

"No," Alex told him with a laugh. "I think that was a one time thing."

His disappointment must have showed on his face because Alex shook his head. "Not many people have a song written about them, you know, you shouldn't get greedy," he chided and stood up. 

He didn't know what made him do it; maybe it was Bradley's words ringing in his ears- he was bleeding out in my arms and all he cared about was you. He wanted you to know; that he'd died.- but the second he was on his feet, Michael pulled him into his arms. When Alex didn't push him away; when he pulled him in tighter instead, Michael buried his nose in the juncture between his neck and his shoulder and took in a lungful of air. 

"Are you okay?"

Michael nodded against his neck and Alex's arms tightened around him. He tried desperately to think of something to say, tried to pull away, but found that he couldn't. 

"Is this about your talk with Bradley?"

Michael nodded again and buried himself further in Alex's arms.

Alex didn't seem to mind.

They stood like that for longer than they should have, but neither of them seemed to want to let go, so they didn't. Until, eventually, they had to. 

"Want to come inside for a beer?" He asked him gently.

Michael wanted more than that. Michael Wanted to hold him until the image of him, bleeding out in Bradley's arms while Michael was blissfully unaware, stopped haunting him in his dreams. He wanted to ask him to sing him the song again, just to hear the rest of it, to be able to appreciate it, to have a reminder that Alex hadn't forgotten about him. Michael wanted to talk to him about the mistakes they'd made and the future they could still have together. But, like he had a month ago, he knew it still wasn't their time.

So he settled for accepting the beer. And being Alex's friend. He owed it to the both of them to try. And he owed it to Alex to back off and let him be happy with someone else since that was what he wanted.

"Yeah." He smiled. "Yeah, I'd love a beer."

[crystalracing]

My thoughts on the F1 Hybrid era 2014-present and a timeline of being a Kimi Raikkonen fanatic since 2002

My love-hate relationship with Formula 1 is very much at the Hate spectrum and it no longer feels fun. Those who read my social media accounts could easily mistake me for having the worldview of a 47 year old man, when in fact I’m 3 years short of 30. I see new school fans who only remember Raikkonen’s struggles and care little for his McLaren years, where even then misfortune lurked around the corner. There was one difference back then, however: Kimi was the new kid on the block. On any given Sunday, even after an average qualifying performance, the talismanic Finn could dazzle fans the world over. The vivid sound of a cacophonous V10 would scream in a global audience’s ears and a baby faced Finnish boy wonder from an impoverished Espoo countryside upbringing would leave a smile on millions of faces. F1 was in the midst of what seemed a never-ending Michael Schumacher/Ferrari led domination. Despite near-misses in 2003 and 2005, where the Finn took nine wins and two runners-up for the Woking-based squad in between numerous boozy nights and the beginning of a marriage to Jenni Dahlman, later doomed by the pair’s lack of commitment, bounty of love affairs and lack of mutual interests, the fans sang his praises. Fellow drivers such as Ralf Schumacher were left bemused by Kimi’s taciturn, carefree and single-minded demeanour, but the corporate sponsors found a sweet spot for the Finn: his apolitical attitude melded well to act as a figure of universal popularity- the shyness of a geek, the lackadaisical social standing of a class clown and the heart of a world class athlete. And I just couldn’t help but champion him.

The current hybrid engine formula for F1 is a mess: huge wings creating ridiculous amounts of dirty air, fat tyres, three DRS zones on a regular basis at most circuits, the fuel-saving and Pirelli’s SEVEN compounds of tyres- two of which will be not used meaningfully at all this year (Hard & SuperHard). In 2009, the teams followed a new formula with skinny wings, slick tyres and a banning of bodywork elements on the sidepods and places you wouldn’t expect an aerodynamic piece to hang off. Max Mosley also proposed a budget cap, which encourged Litespeed (Lotus/Caterham), Manor (Virgin/Marussia) and Campos (HRT) to join in 2010. Of course, in true F1 fashion, the FIA failed to follow up on such proposals to enforce budget caps and it’s only now with Liberty Media that an argument to enact a plan for cost cutting has been brought back. Sadly, the three 2010 teams were all gone by the end of 2012, 2014 and 2016 respectively. However, drivers moaned about the lack of driving challenge enforced and the subsequent bigger cars (followed by 2019 regs) begs the question: 

Does F1 have an identity anymore? Is it willing to stand up for a set of sporting and technical values? Because Jean Todt et al at FIA seem sidetracked and manipulated by the corporate bosses at FIAT, Daimler, OICA & Honda. 

In the decade of 2010s, only 11 drivers (Vettel, Hamilton, Alonso, Raikkonen, Bottas, Ricciardo, Verstappen, Maldonado, Webber, Rosberg & Button) have won a race despite 169 Grands Prix having taken place in this decade alone. That’s how truly uncompetitive the Pirelli era of F1 has been, especially compared to the 2000s, which had 17 different winners in 174 races. In fact, here’s a list of the past decades:

1950s- 24 different winners (87 races)/ 15 (77)* 1960s- 21 (100)/ 20 (99)* 1970s- 29 (144) 1980s- 21 (156) 1990s- 17 (162) 2000s- 17 (174) 2010s- 11 (169) (with 18 months still left to go!!!)**

*without Indianapolis 500

During 2014-16, Mercedes won 51 out of the 59 races. 2011-13 saw Red Bull win 32 out of 58 races. 

From 2010-18 (as of Belgium): Red Bull win 52 (out of 169 races). Mercedes win 72 (out of 169 races). Ferrari win 24 (out of 169 races). McLaren win 18 (out of 169 races). Lotus [now Renault] win 2 (out of 169 races). Williams win 1 (out of 169 races).

******

Now I find myself amongst insecure Sebastian Vettel fans, who I do feel genuinely sorry for: if Vettel wins with Kimi suffering issues, rival fans will point at possible favourable treatment. If Kimi gets close and threatens to beat Vettel, then rival fans will point at Vettel’s tendency to be just above-average in favourable conditions. After all, none of Sebastian’s 52 wins have never been won from outside the top 3 starting spots; whilst as recently as Hockenheim, title rival Hamilton finished on the top step of the rostrum from a P14 start. Much has been made of Vettel’s awful 2014 season, where his apparent inability to adjust to a car lacking rear-end downforce enforced by the new regulations (accompanied by the now-scorned new hybrids) was worsened by new team-mate Daniel Ricciardo outracing and outqualifying him. Once seen as invincible, despite Alonso’s best attempts in a clearly inferior Ferrari to interrupt his quadruple title-winning streak, Vettel had been well and truly humbled. Whilst he possesses a chirpy, charming personality, those nagging concerns over his tendency to crash out at crucial moments linger (2017 Singapore, 2018 France, 2018 Germany), whilst rival Lewis Hamilton (despite moaning more than Nick Kyrios in a tennis match) remains impervious under relentless pressure, having only lost in 2016 to his eternal rival Nico Rosberg (mostly thanks to struggling with a dodgy clutch biting point for race starts and that engine failure in Malaysia). Additionally, Kimi’s presence has reaffirmed a belief amongst rival fans that Vettel needs an obedient, passive number 2 alongside him, whilst Hamilton at the very least went head-to-head with two reigning world champs in Fernando Alonso and Jenson Button at McLaren and Rosberg, where equal number one status was mandated by Mercedes. Only twice Rosberg gave way to Hamilton: 2016 Monaco (partly due to brake issues, but possibly to atone for their first lap collision in the previous race in Spain) and 2013 Malaysia when Rosberg was told to hold station and let Hamilton take 3rd. However, it is arguable Mercedes’s sheer dominance between 2014-16 allowed them to enforce an equal driver policy with no serious threats from the opposition for either championships.

To further my claim, more bad news will come for Vettel fans when popular rookie Charles LeClerc joins Ferrari as his long-awaited team-mate: if Charles beats Seb, his time in F1 is likely to over before he turns 35 and his reputation smashed, whilst if Seb beats LeClerc, accusations of team-favoritism will re-emerge as quickly as they disappeared with Kimi’s retirement. It’s a lose-lose situation for Vettel fans, especially when you consider Fernando Alonso’s demise enforced by his own internal politics and poor career choices and Lewis Hamilton’s ability to exact the maximum out of a recalcitrant Mercedes, which has been de-crowned as F1′s fastest and best all-round chassis and engine package. To worsen matters, Kimi fans (including me) feel zero sympathy for anything that ever goes wrong for the German. Unfortunately, it does turn into hate and resentment, but only because we know what our Finnish man is capable of even in his declining years: fastest in FP1 and FP2 and fastest in Q1 and Q2 at Belgium 2018 with a record-breaking time of 1:41.501. Add to claims by Lewis Hamilton himself that Vettel has never beaten a team-mate in their “prime”: after outpacing journeymen Vitantonio Liuzzi and Sebastien Bourdais with ease, Mark Webber’s weight issues, advancing age, subsequent injuries and struggles with Pirellis handed the impetus to the Weltmeister. Followed by an infamous 2014 with the Honey Badger and a lengthy spell with a passive Raikkonen, it’s no wonder Vettel fans will easily attempt to deflect Ferrari's questionable treatment of Raikkonen to that of Mercedes’, Red Bull’s and even Toro Rosso’s treatment of Valtteri Bottas, Renault-bound Daniel Ricciardo and Brendon Hartley. 

Which is not to say they’re wrong, but their defensiveness is compounded by Ferrari’s historic preference for a hierarchal driver system (Schumacher & Barrichello at Austria 2002 & Alonso & Massa at Germany 2010 widely publicised), followed by recent events at Germany again this year (albeit with Jock Clear tentatively trying to make Kimi guess his cryptic message) is telling: they know Vettel has a peripheral place amongst the true greats of F1 thanks to years of Adrian Newey’s double diffuser Red Bull chassis and Renault’s V8 engine mapping system enabling Seb to play the role of the “Opening two laps” merchant. What I mean by that is his ability to create a gap of over one second within the first two laps in a standard 2010-13 race to stop the car in 2nd place from exploiting the DRS detection range against him, from which he then subsequently exploiting his car’s technical advantage to predictable perfection. Plus when you consider Lewis Hamilton’s misfortunes with McLaren, his existential crisis and a troubled relationship with ex Nicole Scherzinger and Raikkonen disappearing for two years to do WRC (and Kimi’s father slowly dying of alcoholism-related illness), it almost seemed 2010-13 was game, set and match for Seb despite occasional gremlins striking in 2010 and 2012.

I see F1 social media figures dismissing the suffering of Raikkonen fans, bemused at how thousands could be enchanted by an aloof old-school Finn, who regards journalists as vultures to be treated with well-justified caution. New school fans belittle Kimi fans, viewing them as holding a monotonous review of Raikkonen’s misfortunes and characterizing them as incapable of leaving the blame at the aging 2007 world champion’s feet, despite repeated strategy failures of a scarlet team saddled with an one-car team mentality. Bahrain saw Ferrari pit Vettel on a dangerous one stop strategy, where had it not been for a cautious Bottas, Vettel could’ve easily come 2nd, whilst Raikkonen would suffer the brunt of vicious social media abuse for stomping off to allow paramedics to tend to injured mechanic Francisco Cigarini after Ferrari failed to solve a crossthreaded wheelnut issue shared by sister team Haas; China saw Ferrari pit Vettel too late and resorting to exploiting Kimi as a road block; Baku saw the Scuderia bizarrely ignore Kimi’s dreadful pace on yellow soft compounds (yes, Kimi had indeed wrecked his last red supersofts in Q2), but then proceeded to place Vettel on the same yellow softs, which saw the German lose time to Bottas and forced Ferrari to resort to changing both cars to ultrasofts during an impromptu safety car period kicked off by the Red Bulls; whilst Hockenheim saw Ferrari absurdly miscalculate Kimi’s pace and end up with the Finn leading ahead of Vettel, followed by an awkward set of radio messages where the impatient Iceman forced the team to directly order him to let Vettel past. Subsequently, Ferrari’s shock at Vettel’s stadium crash and slowness to pit Kimi for new tyres (one lap too late!) during the SC period saw them lose a race they still could win with their “second” car, seemingly disheartened by Vettel’s blunder. Their gamble to split the strategy in Q3 for Belgium, leaving Kimi with less fuel than Vettel in the hope of quickly refuelling Kimi in the case of the rain easing (which it did) and you get the picture of a 38 year old left forlorn by a recalcitrant team hellbent on guessing their chess moves for car #7, but frightened into placing all their eggs in one basket for car #5. In a monotonous hybrid era filled with Pirelli control tyres, countless DRS zones that permit the top cars to overpower the midfielders and mindnumbing fuel saving, both Ferrari and Mercedes have isolated their Finnish wingmen to mere sideshows. 

In this social media age, I see a culture of outrage galore amongst the F1 community. With the fan base no longer proliferated over internet forums, instead it is centralised amongst Twitter, Youtube, Facebook and Instagram, all of which provide more accessible platforms with user-friendly interfaces implemented, the need to find issues that don’t even exist is prevalent. The agonisingly rapid decline of F1′s spectacle has left fans increasingly tribalistic, with winning amongst those supporters of drivers in front-running cars the only source of satisfaction remaining. Unfortunately, I am now more Kimi-focused than I was in the mid-2000s: back then it wasn’t close to feeling like life and death if Kimi struggled (and boy, he had his bad moments then). I could easily applaud other drivers such as Jenson Button and Mark Webber when success came their way. I even supported Felipe Massa in his bid to win the 2008 World Championship, despite being at Kimi’s expense. But now seeing fans stirring up bile and provocation to humiliate reviled drivers leaves me feeling hollow. It makes me lust for the days when social media was not a thing; just myself sitting in the front of the couch watching ITV or BBC. But thanks to Sky and internet streaming, I find myself drawn to my laptop to avoid the increasingly jingoistic F1 TV presenters on Channel 4. The days of Jim Rosenthal, Tony Jardine, Steve Rider, the linguistically discombobulated Mark Blundell and Louise Goodman feel like another lifetime ago; the days before such partisan nonsense emerged with Lewis Hamilton. 

The trivialities have surpassed the main racing events, where transfer gossip and who-said-what is more entertaining. Salacious news about drivers’ private lives now seep through the paddock; asking drivers to sing silly songs and journalists wanting to be friends with the drivers and team personnel where everyone becomes too familiar. The loss of mystique and luster of a Grand Prix environment, where fans become too emotionally involved in events where they possess little power to truly influence and instead whine and cry when things inevitably fail. In the past, with no social media or mobile phones, you had to actively find local neighbours and tour race tracks to find your motor racing pals; now a “friend” is merely a follow button away on a major social media platform.

We now live in the era of “Trial by Social Media” where a truly overemotional or defamatory comment can be validated by a high number of likes, reposts, retweets and reactions.

To make matters worse, not only are tribal lines drawn along with teams and drivers, but debates such as Grid Girls and the Halo. Frankly, there are idiots on both sides of the debates for both issues, who believe they hold the moral high ground and act like they are holier than thou against those who disagree with them. So now only are the drivers, sponsors and teams competing against each other on the track, the press room and the pits, but the fans and journalists are competing against each other for social media brownie points! Strawman anyone with any ridiculous quote and you’ll win! (Of course Kimi Raikkonen fans too are susceptible to nonsense comments. Social media unleashes your emotional rambling at any given moment). But in lieu, one thing about Charles LeClerc’s accident at Belgium stuck out and that was the journalists going on rambling lectures about how the Halo certainly saved his life, despite a lack of any scientific research concluded to prove the Halo actually stopped the McLaren of Fernando Alonso even making the slightest contact with LeClerc’s helmet. The extreme moralistic beating dished out to the viewing audience over the Halo and Grid Girls is jarring. Plus constant gimmicky sideshow jokes from WTF1 and their obnoxious jokes of “That’s Radillon, actually,” which carry no punchline and have already been brow-beaten to death by its strange following. (I know, not entirely related, but I needed to fit a bit about that dogshite WTF1).

F1, along with other motorsport series, has banged about attracting millennials and Gen Zs, but honestly at this point it is literally about as far from cool or hip as you can get.

In addition, I fell out with one truly moronic member of Lewis’ fans: a man with the most conflicting and contradictory political views I’ve ever seen (he reacts to political events and what celebrities say on a whim) and an inability to judge drivers properly at all. A man who was distraught at the idiotic outrage at Lewis Hamilton’s “Boys Don’t Wear Dresses” joke, which was clearly showing Hamilton mocking old conservatives who would demand strict gender roles at all costs. I openly wrote a tweet defending Lewis and comforted his fan via a reply to one of their tweets. But when Raikkonen stormed off after his Bahrain pit stop debacle, this same Lewis fan joined in the outrage mob when everyone called Kimi something around the lines of being a crap human being. I had to block/unblock him simply to avoid verbally abusing him and having my account suspended, as he used his reasoning of excusing of Logan Paul (a bell-end who misused the Japanese’s accommodating nature to insult their culture and deliberately walk into a suicide forest for his own attention seeking sick nonsense and despite having a prejudicial view of East Asians, now has a Hapa girlfriend in Chloe Bennet) to justify roasting Kimi. I’m sorry, but just because you failed to understand the lack of morality in one certain vile human, so you then pick on a softer target who never intended to provoke controversy, is the act of a weak, cowardly and dumb individual.

It must be remembered how badly Kimi was treated in 2008, where Massa gained the upperhand for Ferrari in this article:

Why Kimi was not on top of his game in 2008 by wrcva

https://f1bias.com/2012/04/05/truth-about-kimi-ferrari-santander-2008/

But enough of that, I want to talk the glorious past in my rose-tinted glasses: how I began my life as a bonafide Formula 1 fan.

I started watching the sport in 2002 with a wide-eyed approach due to being 11 years old. Whilst it was in the midst of a Michael Schumacher/Ferrari dominated time span, I had hope his monopoly of victories and championships would end. Mika Hakkinen had retired and in his place came a fellow Finn, Kimi Raikkonen. I was unable to articulate what attracted me to become a Kimi fan, as I initially chose to support Ralf Schumacher, Giancarlo Fisichella & Alex Yoong (!). Whilst I came to cease my backing of Ralf and the hopeless Yoong, I struck by curiosity to the Iceman when I witnessed the 22 year old firmly plant his foot flat through the Kemmel Straight in Spa-Francorchamps, blinded by a heavy plume emitted by Olivier Panis’ stricken BAR-Honda (some things never change!) Through reading a 2002 ITV F1 Guide book, which now lies battered and almost shredded, its description was one of a rebel and a selfish Espoo native, who had lucked his way into the McLaren #4 seat at the expense of his supposedly more deserving Sauber team-mate Nick Heidfeld. That initally turned me against Kimi, believing he had a silver spoon in a figurative sense, but an astonishing drive to P2 in 2002 Belgian GP qualifying, followed by an outrageous rear end save on Sunday began to sway my stubbornness. It proved his storming drive in France to P2 (which he lost the lead in the later stages thanks to running on Allan McNish’s Toyota engine oil) earlier that year was no fluke in a season blighted by major reliability issues, which saw the Finn retire from 11 out of the 17 races held in 2002. That year saw Kimi pick up his maiden podium and fastest lap in Australia and four podiums, plus Raikkonen outqualified elder team-mate David Coulthard an impressive 10-7. Sadly, the mechanical failures would prove a harbinger of what overshadow Kimi’s time at Woking.

2003 would see Macca continue its MP4-17 chassis in a D specification, with plans to introduce the MP4-18 in Canada. A rapid change in FIA sporting regulations (plus a promised abandonment of traction control from Silverstone onwards) was enacted, as the sport’s owners unanimously agreed that F1′s appeal would fade if a certain scarlet team’s monotonous accumulation of wins was not at least curbed in the slightest. Melbourne qualifying, in its new one-lap shootout format with two sessions split between Friday and Saturday, ended with a predictable Ferrari one-two of Schumacher followed by obedient no.2 Rubens Barrichello (or Bwoahrrichello). The new qualifying regulations stipulated cars to carry the race fuel and tyres they’d start with throughout their Saturday qualifying single-lap run, which left the heavily fueled McLarens of DC & Kimi in P11 and P15. On race day, the heavens opened and the track was damp at the start. Raikkonen pitted for dries on the formation lap, so he had to encounter the early laps with caution as the field eventually copied the Finn’s switch to grooved tyres (remember those?) during the early laps of the race. Lap 17 saw the Iceman grab the lead, which he would hold until lap 32, where a drive-thru penalty was administered to the Finn for speeding in the pits. Later a wheel-to-wheel encounter between Schumacher and Raikkonen saw the German lose his bargeboards and Juan Pablo Montoya threw away an improbable 2nd career win on lap 48 with an inexplicable spin. Coulthard flew past for what would be a 13th & final career victory; Montoya took 2nd and Kimi clinched 3rd ahead of a frustrated Schumacher limping in 4th. The race craft was present in the Espoo native’s driving, but the consistency and legendary race pace would appear in the next race in Malaysia. Sepang saw Kimi start an average 7th, but drama at the start delivered the Finn a lucky break. Schumacher lunged at Jarno Trulli’s Renault in a mistimed maneuver and the Italian’s young team-mate Fernando Alonso led, albeit held up the field after taking a fortuitous pole in a Renault qualifying 1-2 abetted by a light fuel strategy. It was all the impressive as the Spaniard was carrying the flu, but after Raikkonen made light work of Heidfeld to grab second, McLaren’s tyre durability and heavy fuel strategy allowed the Finn to overtake Alonso in the pit stops and beat Barrichello’s 2002 all-conquering Ferrari by 39 seconds. Many participants had melted in the sweltering southeastern Asian humidity, but the Iceman had arrived and an impressionable 12 year old had found a new hero.

The 2003 saw Kimi miraculously remain active in a title fight in a two-year old chassis, which was never replaced due to the MP4-18′s dreadful manufacturing structure. Ferrari’s new F2003-GA was revealed in Barcelona, the fifth round of the championship, but Schu would only beat the Spanish local hero Alonso by 5.7 seconds. The youthful zest of Kimi saw him over-commit in turn 7 on his Saturday Q lap, sending him to the back of the grid. Pizzonia stalled on the grid for the start on raceday and Raikkonen hit him unsighted. Along with another spin in Canada Q2 and a subsequent puncture in the race, Kimi toiled to P6 and lost the championship lead to the mighty Red Baron, a lead he would never recover. The following Grand Prix saw Kimi, though, take his maiden pole position in Q2; despite not taking an overall fastest sector time on the Nurburgring circuit, the 23 year old Finn clocked a 1:31.523 with race fuel aboard; his Friday Q1 lap was a dazzling 1:29.989, just 0.08 slower than Montoya’s 2002 pole lap. Race day saw the Finn storm into a nine-second cushion over Ralf and everything went as planned in his scheduled pit stop on lap 16. In spite of having regained the lead, lap 25 disaster struck: a Mercedes-Benz engine failure. The sound of the V10s rang around the historic Rhineland venue from all cars but one: car no #6. For the first time in my twelve years, a sudden rage of anger engulfed me. 

The rest of season saw Raikkonen accumulate 2nd places regularly, but the aging MP4-17 and adequate Mercedes power unit lacking the potency Kimi required to challenge the emerging Williams-BMW FW25s, followed by a resurgent Schumacher, whose Ferrari had been limited by a batch of Bridgestone tyres which struggled mid-summer, as its French counterpart Michelin found a upper hand for the first time since its return to F1 in 2003. Hungary saw Michael humiliated as a gallant Alonso took pole and lapped the five-time world champion around the tight confines of a circuit colloquially referred to as “Monaco without the barriers”. After being stuck behind Mark Webber’s Jaguar before the initial pit stops, Raikkonen took a steady 2nd albeit 17 seconds behind Spain’s debut F1 race victor. 13 races down with 3 races left saw the championship reading Schumacher 1st with 72 points, Montoya 71 points and the young Kimster 70 points, somehow punching above his car’s weight despite losing further points in a first lap collision in Hockenheim in the previous round. Team-mate Coulthard, meanwhile, was floundering in 7th place with just 45 points in a season where many British commentators had declared 2003 as make-or-break for the Scotsman. But the scheming Maranello boys were working overtime to study the rulebook, where they found Michelin’s front tyres had expanded to 283mm rather than the stipulated 270mm. Whatever performance loss Michelin had suffered in remolding their compounds remains unknown to this day, but Monza came and McLaren had capitulated in their battle to get the MP4-18 into race trim. Schumacher won for the first time in front the raucous Tifosi since Canada, Montoya took 2nd and Barrichelllo nipped into 3rd. Kimi took 4th with a MP4-17D that was at the end of its development cycle. Despite heading to Indianapolis with a seven point deficit, Raikkonen took a valiant pole and took a solid lead until the rain came. Fellow championship contender Montoya screwed up massively by turfing Barrichello into the gravel trap at Turn 2 on lap 3 and his subsequent drive-through penalty brought his driver’s championship challenge prematurely. The Michelin wet compounds were no match for Ferrari’s Bridgestone wets, which had a decisive advantage, leaving Raikkonen struggling in fourth when the track dried and mathematically out of title contention.

Thankfully the Indy circuit dried swiftly when the downpour seized and Kimi stormed past Jenson Button’s BAR, which had been leading for 15 laps (!) and elder statesman Heinz-Harald Frentzen, who was driving his penultimate race for the fabled Sauber squad. 2nd was the end result for the Iceman, who headed to Suzuka on a nine-point deficit to a prospective sextuple world champion. Only a win for the McLaren driver and a failure to finish in the top 8 for the Red Baron would suffice in making Kimi what would have been then F1′s youngest world champion, just five days short of his 24th birthday. A late downpour left Schumacher down in 14th in Q2, whilst Raikkonen took a mediocre P8 with Coulthard alongside him. Race day saw Montoya (whose Williams team still had a chance for the constructors’ title) and Alonso launch into an early 1-2, only to retire as quickly as they had surged into those positions. Barrichello controlled the Japanese GP as if he had been Ferrari’s team leader, whilst Maranello’s contracted lead driver carved his way through midfield like he’d been staggering through a hangover after having drank a crate of beer, with collisions with brother Ralf et al. Dutiful team-mate Coulthard fell behind in the pit stops to allow Kimi to run in 2nd in the hopes of an unlikely mechanical failure to Rubens and Michael to stutter, but neither happened. Schumacher, frantically wiping his heavily oiled helmet and clearly unaccustomed to tackling midfield cars for position, somehow fought into P8 and won his record-breaking 6th world championship in the most uncharacteristically clumsy manner. 

Raikkonen lost the championship by just two points (91 to Michael’s 93), but the new points system of 10-8-6-5-4-3-2-1 for the top 8 (instead of the top 6) proposed by guileless Irishman Eddie Jordan had aided the Finn’s unlikely challenge. Under the former 10-6-4-3-2-1 system, Schumacher would have won the title at Indy with a round to spare and Jordan would have take 5th in the constructors’ largely thanks to Fisichella’s unexpected win at Interlagos (where only the intermediate compound was taken due an idiotic new rule to limit teams to one wet weather tyre choice), but Eddie’s boys were left in 9th out of 10th. 2003 was a step towards the changing of the guard, although whilst the grandmaster held onto his crown by the tip of his tongue, the likes of BAR (later Honda, Brawn & now the mighty Mercedes), Renault, Jaguar (now Red Bull) & Toyota had taken major leaps forward and BMW impressed with their engine’s driveability and outright top end power, but let down by the Williams’ poor strategic planning and a mercurial driving duo of Ralf and JPM. Jordan, having won two races and finished 3rd in the constructors’ in 1999 and challenged for the drivers’ title with the now-retired Frentzen and a dynamite Mugen-Honda power unit, had slipped down 6 places the F1′s pecking order in just four years thanks to a lack of investment, as F1′s emerging manufacturer era was in a full swing.

2004 saw Schumacher and Ferrari regain their full-time dominance of F1. Mercedes’ reliability was tragic; Raikkonen retired from 5 of the first 7 races with engine maladies thanks to F1′s new engine rules which mandated power units lasted for an entire race weekend or force drivers to take a ten-grid place penalty, something the Finn became familiar with. Schumacher equaled Mansell’s record of 5 wins from the opening 5 races of a season, whilst Jenson Button emerged as a genuine contender, having taken his maiden podium at Sepang where he held off Barrichello in the closing laps. Elsewhere, Jarno Trulli was beating Fernando Alonso, who seemed rather erratic and possibly complacent after his promising 2003 season (sounds a lot like a young Dutchman in 2018, whose father drove his last season with the lowly Minardi team in a damp whimper). Trulli broke Schumi’s winning run with his sole career win at Monte Carlo, where Alonso crashed after running wide trying to pass Ralf’s misfiring Williams and the infamous collision between embittered enemies Schumacher and Montoya, both incidents occurring in the Tunnel section. However, Trulli’s Renault honeymoon would eruptively hit freefall, culminating in his embarrassing concession of the final podium spot at Magny-Cours where Alonso had taken pole and looked a likely victor until Ross Brawn’s ingenuous four-stop strategy for Schu’s car scuppered a second career win for the Spaniard. Michael proceeded to win 12 of 2004′s first 13 Grands Prix, whilst McLaren built a new B chassis. Then came Spa and the start of the King of Spa legend.

Raikkonen qualified an unimpressive P10 in mixed conditions. The two Renaults took 1-3 split by Schumacher, who was looking to take his 7th drivers’ crown. Race day arrived and despite Trulli/Alonso leading the first quarter of the race, engine troubles for Fernando and an early pit stop paved the way for Kimi to gain control of the race, after surviving the first lap carnage from the backmarkers.  Daily Express editor Bob McKenzie, who had pledged that he would run naked around Silverstone if McLaren won a race in 2004, honoured his deed at the following year’s British GP in front of cackling Raikkonen and a smug Ron Dennis. 

Jarno Trulli would later become the first of a long list of team-mates mysteriously screwed over by having Fernando Alonso as his driving partner (Fisichella, Piquet Jr, Massa, Raikkonen, Vandoorne spring to mind anyone?), whilst McLaren announced the arrival of Colombian firecracker Montoya to join icecool Kimbo for 2005. An early tennis (!) accident sidelined Monty and early setup issues meant the potential of the MP4-20 had been withheld in the flyaway openers, but Imola saw Kimi sprinting out of the gates. A dominant pole pointed towards to an emphatic Kimi win, but race day saw his CV joint fail after just 8 laps. Wins at Barcelona and Monaco brought the Iceman into title contention, but he lagged 22 points behind fast starting Alonso. Then Nurburgring came, the scene of heartbreak just a couple of years prior. Raikkonen, having come off a run of leading 160+ consecutive laps, look set for a third straight win but he flatspotted his tyre whilst lapping Jacques Villeneuve and a subsequent vibration saw the McLaren’s suspension explode on the very final lap. Alonso, driving at 70% his car’s potential clinched an easy win ahead of Nick Heidfeld (who would never win a F1 race), increased his lead to 32 points. Point blank no. 3 for Mr. Raikkonen of 2005, who was now 32 points down on the 23 year old Spaniard. With the engine regs tightened to a power unit life of two full weekends, predictably Mercedes would suffer issues in the practice sessions in France, Britain and Italy, the last of which Kimi astonishing set the fastest qualifying lap but was forced to start 10 places lower. Raikkonen took 19 points in those three weekends combined, whilst Alonso grabbed 26. Add in Montoya’s lack of concentration whilst lapping backmarkers (Monteiro in Turkey and Pizzonia in Belgium) and another mechanical failure at the Hockenheimring, it meant Kimi never could truly chip away at Alonso’s advantage, which remained sub-30 points. It set the Spaniard up to become F1′s then-youngest champion in Brazil, where McLaren didn’t even bother asking Montoya to concede the race lead to Raikkonen as it was so obvious Alonso would keep hold the 3rd place he required to be crowned in Interlagos. 

Suzuka 2005. Kimi’s greatest race. Started P17 after a washed-out qualifying. It was astonishing race in a season where only one compound of tyre was permitted for all drivers, culminating in the Indy-gate farce where all Michelin-shod cars withdrew due to safety fears of tyre exploding around the oval section at turn 13. However, despite Alonso and Schumacher joining the Finn near the back, there was still a constructor’s championship to be won for McLaren thanks to nine race wins thus far. The quality of overtakes was pure as there could be: Alonso’s ace manoeuvre on aging Schumacher at 130R is still highly-regarded by his own fans, but his victory chances was wrecked by race control ordering him to drop 13 seconds to let Christien Klien’s Red Bull after an illegal overtake under yellow flags. Montoya crashed out on lap one after a ludicrous entanglement with another aging fart, this time Jacques Villeneuve in an underfunded Sauber. Giancarlo Fisichella led the race comfortably after Ralf Schumacher pitted absurdly early for fuel in a blatant publicity stunt by Toyota to grab headlines of a home pole position for media value. However, despite a 20 second gap having been built him and Raikkonen, the Finn relentlessly decimated the midfield runners with no DRS or gizmo nonsense (traction control aside) and with five laps to go, Kimi peered into Fisi’s mirrors. On every approach to the Casino chicane in the final lap, the beleaguered Renault driver kept resorting to holding a tight line, leaving his exit compromised and gradually more vulnerable to Raikkonen closing up on him to size up a move into Turn 1. This was possible despite Kimi having to ease off the throttle in 130R due to oppressive dirty air turbulence of the mid-2000s chassis; but yet come the penultimate lap, the impossible had become the inevitable. Fisichella inexplicably, possibly wilting due to an inability to pump consistently fast lap times which were became sadly more common in his later decline, again took a tight inside line into Casino Sqaure chicane despite being a tough spot for cars in behind to lunge forwards to make an overtake. His Renault squirmed with his tyres burning out from his overly-defensive driving and Kimi pounced. Giancarlo wiggled to the inside line across the start-finish straight (and almost touched the pit wall!), but was powerless to stop Kimi overtaking around the outside of Turn 1 on the final lap.

2006 was Kimi’s final year at McLaren. With Schumacher revitalised in his hunt for title no.8, BMW having taken ownership of Sauber, Williams now an independent team, Red Bull very much a thing, Jordan having become a second-hand shed for billionaire investors to pump-and-dump at whim until Vijay Mallya saved them at the end of 2007 and BAR fully sold into the Honda’s shares thanks to the European Union banning of tobacco sponsorship- something which has starved racing teams and youngsters of much-needed funding- F1 was changing again. Michael Schumacher was now 37 and Felipe Massa had replaced Rubens Barrichello as his right-hand man. Raikkonen had now grown tired and appeared increasingly soporific with McLaren’s reliability being worse than any other down the pitlane. With the joint worst retirement and reliability record with equally luckless Mark Webber, Maranello had seen a wonderful opportunity to snap a disgruntled Finn, who had been declared “Ferrari’s next world champion” in a F1 Racing Magazine in 2001. Luca di Montezemelo laid an ultimatum with Schumacher: the German would have to drive alongside Kimi Raikkonen as Ferrari team-mate in 2007 or retire. Michael chose the latter option in an emotional post-race reception at Monza and the rest they say is history.

*****

Despite of all this, seeing Kimi’s heartbreak in the hybrid era and his changed attitude as a father-of-two has endeared me to him far more than I ever did in my teenage years. I can see he is more focused than ever and he’s a better man than he was ten years ago. If I saw lose then, I wasn’t as bothered as much then as I am now (and yes, the passion of being a hardcore Kimi fan boy is burning me out).

[keywestlou]

MORNING STEW #5

Morning Stew time once again! I got caught up in the Virginia race and sex items and wrote about racism and sexism 2 days in a row. Catch up time now.

Two days of notes shared in no particular order.

Squeaky Fromme. Remember that name? She was part of the Charles Manson cult/family back in the late 1960’s. She did not participate in the Sharon Tate murders, however.

Squeaky spent 34 years in jail for attempting to assassinate President Gerald Ford. She was released August 14, 2009.

Why is she of significance to my blog? When released, she went to live at 6772 Benton Road, Marcy, New York, with her boy friend Robert Valdner. He had pled guilty to a manslaughter charge in 1988.

Marcy is next door to my home town Utica. They actually adjoin.

I wonder how many know she lives there.

Marcy is a tiny town. Around 8,000 people. In a Wikipedia listing of Marcy under Notable People, 2 are named. One is Squeaky.

How a town gains fame!

A huge crowd sunday at Hot Dog Church. Close to 200, I would estimate. The crowd to celebrate Nancy’s 60th birthday. An Age of Aquarius party.

Many dressed for the occasion. In the hippy style of the day. Many men in attendance in honor of Nancy’s birthday. They too were dressed. What is good for the goose is good for the gander on such occasion.

The Back Bar, Side Bar and inside rooms were packed. People dancing in between people standing and talking. Everyone having a good time!

Donna and Terri in attendance. Terri sang a couple of songs. Blew everyone out! Donna was dressed as she probably did back when. Looked fantastic! Black pants and blouse. White bandanna around her forehead.

Nancy is very well liked. Helpful to all. All the time. This past year has been a bad one for her. A double mastectomy and then a fall resulting in a broken wrist. May all the bad things be behind her and her future years illness free.

Knew many. Including Laurie, Ingrid, Lynda and Bob. Pam, too. I had not seen Pam in a year. She had a heart attack near the time we last met. Everything fine now! God bless her!

John telephoned from the Chart Room. Someone wanted to see me. Would I come over? Eventually did. Glad I did. Met a terrific couple. Michael and Carolyn. Both extremely interesting.

Presently hail from New Mexico. Michael aka Michael Norviel an artist. His works locally show at the Art Gallery at 830 Caroline.

They have been visiting Key West for years. Michael actually lived in Key West in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s. He was 8-14 years old at the time. His Dad a contractor working for the Navy.

Michael is 80 and Carolyn 75. Both young and vital.

Michael still paints. Carolyn is retired from a most interesting position. She worked years at the University of New Mexico. A fundraiser. Her job to bring in the big dollars. We shared many stories. I was a big donor at one time at Syracuse. She knew all the tricks surrounding fund raising. I learned many by being the one solicited.

Chatted with another couple sunday night after Michael and Carolyn left. I am ashamed. I failed to write their names in my note book. Whatever, another great couple. I had met them the night before, also.

Visiting From Syracuse.

The husband into Presidential libraries and the like. He had visited Hemingway House earlier in the day. He was the one who told me about Squeaky Fromme living in Marcy.

Last night was Dueling Bartenders. Terri guest performer. What a voice! Joined with Rick Dery, a volatile combination.

Liz, Josephina, Mary, Myra, and Donna enjoying the evening. As well as the other Mary.

I had never met Myra before. She came over to thank me for being so kind to Liz. Whenever I see Liz, I hurry over to her and give her a hug and kiss.

Liz  is moving on. Now in a wheel chair. They let her sit on a bar stool. However, she must be picked up and placed thereon as well as lifted when returning to the wheel chair.

I met Liz 3 years ago. She was vibrant. We hit it off immediately. She 2 years older than me. Her mind sharp. Liz in her other life had been Dean at 2 law schools and the head of the Law Boards for years. A big time legal career!

We dated for a while. Dinner at Berlin’s and the like. She would prepare lunch or dinner for me at least once a week. Her culinary skills outstanding. Knew her wines.

Always a good time!

Now, she barely talks. In and out of the hospital frequently.

Such is life.

Met Teresa and Sam from southern Illinois at the bar. Corn and soybean farmers. I got into China, the tariffs, cash flow, etc. Teresa surprised me. She said they were not hurting. Their production was selling. No change.

It was difficult for me to follow. I suspect how and who you sell to or through has something to do with it.

Teresa and Sam have been coming to Key West for 25 years. They are renting a condo at Truman Annex for a month.

They have a son and daughter. The son is in business with them. The daughter in investments with Edward Jones. Plus 4 grandchildren.

Mary and I had dinner afterwards at La Trattoria. Tiffany bartending. Tiffany and I have known each other for 25 years. Amazing!

I enjoyed spaghetti with oil and garlic. So much for love making afterwards. Mary went to Virgilio’s and I home.

A measles update.

Mother does NOT always know best. Measles were eliminated 20 years ago. But…..

The epidemic is world wide. In the U.S., in certain areas. Generally where a large number of parents exempted their children from inoculations.

Washington is one of the States experiencing an epidemic. A particular County a large number. Clark County. Fifty three infected. Mostly children. One in 4 overall. Forty percent of them kindergartners.

Clark County parents had gone to court and received exemptions from the law requiring children prior to beginning school to have certain inoculations. The grounds for exemption had to be religious or personal beliefs.

One physician said that letting a child go unvaccinated against measles is like dropping a lighted match into a can of gasoline. The explosion/fire spreads rapidly. How an epidemic begins.

Big time in El Paso last night! Trump and O’Rourke speaking at different places. Close however. At one point, Beto’s group marched across the street to where Trump was speaking.

Numbers in attendance important to Trump. He was in a building holding 6,500. He claimed 35,000 there to hear him.

O’Rourke in a park. Police estimated 7,000. Trump said 600. Even dropped the number to 15 at one point.

I give them a tie as to numbers. As to content, not even close. O’Rourke came out way ahead.

Bum Farto, where are you?

Farto was the Key West Fire Chief back in the mid 1970’s. Highly successful. Besides protecting the populace from fires, ran drugs and hookers.

He was arrested and tried in Federal Court. Found guilty of 3 drug violations.

On the day he was to be sentenced, he left home in his car. Never to be seen again. Disappeared! Did not make it to court. No one sure what happened to him.

Some believe he disappeared Jimmy Hoffa style. Others believe to this day he is lying on a beach somewhere with a beautiful young lady next to him having successfully avoided paying his debt to society.

I close with the lovely Judy Blume.

The world knows Judy Blume. Successful author. Wrote books for young ladies/teenagers initially. Many. Her books have sold in excess of 80 million world wide and have been translated into 30 languages.

She is up there with Hemingway and Tennessee Williams.

Judy now a Key West resident. She and her husband own Books & Books in Key West.

I make mention of Judy today because it is her birthday. She was born this day in 1938. Happy birthday, Judy!

Almost forgot. One last item. My podcast show this evening. Tuesday Talk with Key West Lou. Join me at 9 for a quick interesting half hour. Listen to me rant and rave about this and that. www.blogtalkradio.com/key-west-lou.

Enjoy your day!

MORNING STEW #5 was originally published on Key West Lou