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rushingheadlong · 4 years ago

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Dear Friend, We’ll Carry On - A Brian/trans-m!Reader fic

Summary: You’ve known Brian since the early days of Queen, but when he comes to New Haven on his solo tour you haven’t seen him in years. You’re both different people now but, as the saying goes, the more things change the more they stay the same...

Wordcount: ~9.5k

Tags/Warnings: Trans-m!Reader/Brian, some light angst and H/C, eventual smut (fingering & oral, Reader receiving, and some light cumplay)

Notes: This is, I think, officially the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever written. I know I say that a lot but the entire fic takes place around Brian’s October 1993 New Haven concert (the one with the Yale tank top) so that should really tell you everything you need to know. I might write a follow-up fic, or just a shorter epilogue as well - but we’ll see if I ever actually get around to that.

The only other thing I’ll note is that is the Reader is American, so American terms have been used over British ones (i.e. “pants” instead of “trousers”) and this is cross-posted to AO3 here.

It’s only been a few years since you last saw Brian, but when he first walks into the diner you almost don’t recognize him. If it wasn’t for that same wild halo of curls around his head you’d think you were looking at a stranger, because there’s a tightness in his shoulders and a stiffness in his frame that you’ve never seen before.

Even the other patrons around you seem uncertain of him, casting double-takes in his direction as if they aren’t really sure if they recognize him or not. There was a time when Queen couldn’t step foot in America without being mobbed, but too much has changed in a decade and now Brian looks more like a lost child than a world-famous rockstar.

You wave to catch his attention and Brian spots you immediately. He smiles, bright and wide and so familiar that it makes your chest ache, and he finally looks almost like himself again.

He quickly crosses the small room and you stand up to greet him. Brian pulls you into a tight hug and this is achingly familiar too, the way your shorter frame fits against his, the gentle nuzzle against the top of your head as Brian curls around you, the soft sigh as Brian relaxes into the embrace and some of the tightness starts to bleed out of his body.

“I’ve missed you,” Brian says when he finally pulls away and the two of you take your seats at the table. “You look…” His voice trails off for a moment and you brace yourself for the word that you know is coming next: Different. It’s what everyone says these days, after all, not that you can blame them. Five years on testosterone and nearly eleven months since your surgery have radically changed your appearance - and you haven’t seen Brian in person since your transition started, having been out-of-town when he last performed in New Haven back in March.

But Brian smiles and the word he goes with, to your surprise, is simply, “Good. You look really good, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” you say, with a smile of your own. “And you look…”

Sad.

There’s still grief in the depths of Brian’s eyes, a slightly haunted look that wasn’t there before Freddie’s death and the end of Queen tore his world apart. He’s allowed his grief, of course he is, but it still tears at your heart to see Brian’s kind face marred with anguish, no matter how much he tries to hide it.

You know better than to tell him any of that, though, no matter how true it may be, so you find yourself settling for a different adjective as well. “Tired. Tour getting to you, is it?”

Brian laughs, the smallest huff of amusement and admits, “It’s been rough at times, yeah. Been too long since I’ve done this, and it’s different from what it was with- with Queen.”

He busies himself with the menu for a moment, and you graciously don’t comment on the slight stumble at the mention of the band that was his entire world for two decades. “Anyway, it’s been good though,” Brian finally says. “Nice to be playing again, and the new group is great.”

“I’m sorry I missed your show the last time you were in Connecticut,” you tell him.

“Nah, don’t be. We were only a support act then, you’re getting the full performance tonight,” Brian says. A small, uncertain look crosses his face and he asks, “You are coming tonight, aren’t you?”

“Bought my ticket the moment they went on sale,” you assure him, and Brian smiles in relief.

Your conversation is briefly interrupted by the arrival of your waitress, and once when she leaves with your orders Brian says, “I have a backstage pass for you, if you want it. You can hang out before the show, watch from out front, and security will let you backstage again before the encore so you don’t have to deal with trying to leave with the crowd when it’s all over.”

“Really? That would be great!” It would certainly give you more time to spend with Brian, though you know from the many Queen concerts where you were able to get backstage that it’s likely to be in somewhat of a state of pandemonium leading up to the start of the show. “Hey, is there anyone in your road crew that I might remember?”

You know not to tack on from the Queen days, though it’s obvious that’s what you mean. Another sad look crosses Brian’s face and you know you’ve still made a mistake, even before Brian says, “Ah, not really, no. Jobby left, so my guitar tech is new, and Ratty and Crystal obviously aren’t around… Oh, Spike’s touring with me, though!” You give him a blank, apologetic look and he sighs and adds, hopeful, “Keyboard player? He played with Queen back in the 80s too…”

“You had someone different on the Hot Space tour, I think,” you tell Brian.

“God, has it really been that long since we played the US?” Brian shakes his head. “Seems crazy, doesn’t it? How quickly a decade passes…”

“And how much changes in that time,” you say without thinking. Another pained look crosses Brian’s face and you quickly try to steer the conversation towards less depressing territory. “I mean, I’m surprised you recognized me at all today!” you say with a small laugh.

“Well, of course I recognized you! Why wouldn’t I?” Brian asks, just as your waitress returns with your drinks.

You wait until she stops fussing over Brian and leaves again before saying, “I don’t know, Bri, why would you recognize me? I look pretty different than I did before…”

“Oh, yeah,” Brian says. “That.”

You didn’t really want to bring the topic up but Brian’s response, no matter how casual, is exactly why you knew you had to. You met Brian when you were still going by your dead name, before you had even comes to terms with your gender and back when you two were still hooking up every time Queen came to the US. He was one of the first people you came out to, because you saw him so rarely that if he reacted poorly it’s not like it would have impacted your normal daily life.

Brian didn’t react poorly though. No one in Queen did, and if any of the roadies had a different opinion you at least never had to hear it. Brian easily adjusted to calling you “Y/N” and “he” during your increasingly infrequent meetings in the 80s, those rare weekends when you could afford to fly to LA or he had the time to meet you somewhere on the East Coast, but this is still the first time that he’s seeing you since your transition - the first time he’s had to see you present fully as a man, without binders and baggy clothes and uncomfortably short hair to hide behind.

And you know all too well how much of a difference that can make, to some people.

But not, apparently, to Brian. He smiles and offers you a small shrug and just says, “You’re still Y/N - I mean, yeah, you look different but… Well, like I said before, you look good. You look more like yourself, if that makes any sense at all. Like you’re just a better version of who you always were.” He shakes his head and adds, “Sorry, that probably sounds ridiculous…”

“It really doesn’t,” you tell him. “That’s exactly how it feels to me.” Your whole chest feels warm with affection, and even though you’re reassuring him in the moment you feel incredibly comforted by his easy acceptance and understanding of a topic that not very many others in your life have embraced.

Brian’s smile brightens a little, and your stomach swoops at the sight. You’ve never been in love with Brian, not romantically anyway, but sometimes you still find yourself getting overwhelmed with how much you love having him in your life - as a friend and, in the past, as an occasional bed partner.

Only it seems like today your libido missed the message that the two of you aren’t hooking up anymore. You thought you had gotten past the initial spike to your sex drive that happened when you first started T, but looking at Brian now - with his wide smile and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and his shirt half unbuttoned to expose most of his chest - makes you almost squirm with how badly you want him again.

It doesn’t help that Brian once admitted to you, years ago when you were both far too drunk for your own good, that the occasional man does catch (and hold) his interest. It doesn’t help that you know Brian was always enthusiastic about hooking up with you, at least when you used to do that before you came out and started transitioning. And it doesn’t help that, when you look across the table at him, his earlier sadness has been replaced with a familiar glint in his eye that makes you wonder if his repeated “You look good” comments might hold a little more meaning than you originally thought.

You want to test the waters, see if Brian is thinking of your previous hook-ups like you now are… and you almost do, before you remember what it could cost Brian to be seen flirting with another man in public. Even the hug he had given you in greeting was risky, nevermind that that’s how he’s always greeted you before you transitioned. So you settle instead for only asking, “How long are you in town?”

Brian grimaces. “We got in late yesterday, and we’re only here for one more night. We’re driving over to Providence in the morning for tomorrow’s show, then there’s a day off so we can head out to Chicago. And then…” He thinks about it for a moment, before laughing and shaking his head. “For the life of me, I can’t remember where we go from there. But we only have seven or eight more shows in the States, and then we have some time off before we go to Japan at the beginning of November.”

At one point, you would have followed him around to all those stops on the tour - or at least spent a week or two in Queen’s bus, curled up by Brian’s side during the day and spending your evenings watching their shows from wherever you could find a spot, before eventually catching a flight home from some random city halfway across the country.

But those days are long behind you now.

“Well, you should come back to Connecticut during that break and visit me some more,” you say, and you can’t help the slight teasing note that creeps into your voice.

What you’re not expecting, though, is for Brian to give you a knowing smirk and say, “Maybe I’ll do just that.”

Your mouth drops open in a small “o” of surprise, but before you can respond your waitress comes over with your food - and when she leaves Brian launches into a story from one of his shows earlier in the year, and you let the moment pass.

No matter how much time accidentally passes between your meetings, it’s always easy to fall back into conversation with Brian. His story reminds you of a different rock show you had been to a year ago, and then Brian tells you about some festival he found himself at, which happens to be in the same area where you’re planning an upcoming vacation, and the resulting travel talk branches out into any topic imaginable, until Brian catches a glimpse at the time and swears under his breath.

“Shit, I’m needed over at the theatre.” He stands up and starts to pull out his wallet, but you stop him.

“No, Bri, I’ve got this,” you say, throwing enough bills down onto the table to cover the check (and a large enough tip to make up for how long the two lingered around just chatting). “Any time in particular I should plan on getting to the theatre myself?”

“You can head over with me now, if you want,” Brian says as he leads the way out of the diner, holding the door open for you behind him.

“Nah, I need to change into something more fitting for a rock concert,” you say, gesturing to your suitable - but certainly plain - outfit.

“You look-”

“Brian May, if you tell me that I look good again I’ll kick you!” you interrupt with a laugh. “No, give me a chance to pretty myself up for you and then I’ll head over.”

It doesn’t quite register that the “for you” slipped out until you see a look of surprise cross Brian’s face, a look that settles into something a little more amused as he smirks and says, “Well, I’ll definitely be looking forward to seeing you soon, then.”

He pulls you into another quick hug and your face is hot with embarrassment, and you can feel yourself get redder when Brian murmurs in your ear, “Don’t take too long now, Y/N.”

You know he’s teasing but there’s a note of arousal in his voice as well, and you feel your dick start to stir with interest even through your lingering embarrassment. “I’ll get changed and hurry right over,” you promise in a low voice, and you can’t help but feel smug when you see Brian’s eyes darken in hunger.

You don’t live in New Haven proper and today even the quick drive back to your apartment feels like it takes too long, when all you want to do is still be with Brian… but you’re hoping, if you play your cards right, that you’ll be spending a lot more time with Brian tonight than you had ever originally planned.

Picking out clothes feels less like a daily battle than it ever did before you started transitioning but you still take some time to consider what to wear over to the theatre, finally settling on skinny jeans and a Yale shirt. You’re considerably older than most of the university’s students but you’re still cursed with a babyface that T hasn’t aged quite enough yet, and you figure that faking some school pride can’t hurt when you’re going to be mere blocks away from the university itself.

You grab a pair of rolled-up socks and hesitate for a moment before discarding them, and tying a flannel shirt around your waist to hide the lack of bulge in your pants. An old leather jacket and a few swipes of eyeliner finish off the look, and even if you hadn’t already been flirting with Brian you’re pretty sure you’d win an invite back to his hotel room now anyway.

You take the bus back over to New Haven, rather than worrying about finding parking near the venue, and although security gives you an uncomfortable once-over as you show him your badge it isn’t long before you’re inside the theatre and looking for Brian once more.

Soundcheck is just wrapping up and you let the sound of Brian’s voice lead you towards the stage. He’s engrossed in his work and you watch him from the wings as he talks about some technical detail with one of the roadies. He seems relaxed enough, at a quick glance, but you can see his fingers tapping anxiously against the front of the Red Special and tension starting to gather in his shoulders again.

It’s a far cry from how he was before the Queen shows of old. Back then, even if he was a bit on edge or the band had fought during soundcheck, Brian retained a certain amount of confident ease - something which is noticeably absent in his demeanor now. You wonder if it’s due to the lack of Queen and the stability that Brian had based his routines around, or if it’s because of the added pressure of his role in this new band… though, truthfully, it’s probably a little bit of both.

You wonder if you still have a right to meddle, if you can ask Brian how he’s really doing and still expect an honest answer from him after all these years. Then Brian spots you out of the corner of his eye and his face lights up with happiness again and the tension starts to bleed out of his frame, and you decide to let sleeping dogs lie - at least for now anyway, because you have more important (or at least more fun) things to focus on.

Because Brian isn’t nearly as subtle as he thinks he is as he gives you a lingering once-over, before he passes over his Old Lady to a tech that you don’t recognize and crosses the stage to pull you into a hug. This one isn’t as intimate as the one at the diner, more of a quick one-armed embrace that he might give to any of his male friends, but he still whispers in your ear, “You look good, Y/N.”

You pull back, gearing up to poke fun at Brian for saying that yet again, only to see the smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and the glint in his eyes that tells you that he’s teasing you. That doesn’t stop you from huffing a little and saying, “Excuse you, I think I look damn good in fact.”

Brian laughs, the sound catching the attention of the rest of his bandmates. If he notices, though, that doesn’t stop him from murmuring a quiet, “You do look damn good. Gonna make it hard for me to get through the show, knowing that you’re-”

“Hey, Brian!” the other guitarist calls out. “The pizza for the crew just got here, we good on the soundcheck?”

“Yeah sorry, we’re all set!” Brian yells back. He shakes his head and says to you, “Sorry about that.”

You shrugs. “Not the first time your work has ruined the moment.” It used to be Roger banging on the dressing room door while the two of you were in the middle of things, but you’re still used to the interruptions.

“Well, we’re not likely to get many moments in private until after the show,” Brian says, his voice pitched low so no one can overhear the two of you.

“I was thinking that we’re getting a bit too old to disappear into a supply closet together,” you joke, though you keep your voice low as well.

Brian snorts. “Yeah, I don’t need Spike or Jamie finding me in flagrante when there’s a perfectly good hotel bed waiting for us at the end of this.” He hesitates for a moment, biting his bottom lip, and finally asks, “That is where all this flirting is heading, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I was hoping.” You grin wickedly at Brian and add, “I didn’t dress up nice just for the hell of it, you know.”

“Good to know,” Brian says, with a wide grin. “C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the band.”

Brian does have a full, proper band touring with him. Jamie is the guitarist who had interrupted Brian greeting you, Neil is the bass player, and Spike is the keyboard player that Brian had mentioned during your lunch earlier. The backing vocalists are Catherine and Shelley, and the last you’re introduced to is Cozy, the drummer. You don’t recognize him at all but clearly Brian is expecting you to, judging by his slightly exasperated sigh when you don’t react to his name.

“Oh, leave it be, Brian. Not like my pride’s hurt at all,” Cozy says before Brian can gear up for his explanation. “I’m just glad to finally be meeting Y/N.”

“Finally?” you echo, giving Brian a sideways glance.

“I may have mentioned you once or twice…”

“Or three or four or forty times,” Spike says dryly.

“You can’t count times I’ve mentioned him in passing over the last decade!” Brian tries to defend himself.

“Decade? Try the last day,” Jamie says as he too joins in the conversation. “If the drive down here yesterday had been any longer we were going to draw straws to see which one of us was going to knock you out just to get some peace and quiet!"

“I was not that bad!” Brian protests but he’s laughing, and so is everyone else, and it’s not quite Queen but you can see the niche that Brian has carved out with this new group of people and it makes you smile to listen to the friendly ribbing and jokes.

“We tried to get him to call you when we stopped so maybe he’d shut up for a bit, but he refused,” Cozy says to you.

You were at work yesterday so Brian wouldn’t have been able to reach you anyway but instead of pointing that out you join in with the teasing yourself. “Well I wish you had, so I could’ve pointed you in the direction of the right pizza to order…”

Brian groans at the familiar argument and says, “You complain about this every time I come to New Haven!”

“Well, start ordering from Frank Pepe’s instead of Sally’s and we wouldn’t have to keep having this conversation!” you tell him.

“I didn’t know pizza was that big of a deal in Connecticut,” Neil says with a laugh.

“It’s not, not unless you’re a New Haven local,” Brian says, with the tone of someone who has been forced to listen to this lecture more times than he cares to remember.

“Are you a local then, Y/N?” Shelley asks. “Or did you come down to meet up with Brian?”

“Nah, I’m a local - well, local enough, I live over in West Haven.” You pluck at your shirt and add, “Didn’t go to Yale, but I’ll pretend to support the university while I’m practically on their campus.”

“I think that’s Brian’s plan for tonight too,” Jamie says, giving Brian a friendly nudge with his elbow as he passes him. “First thing he did when we got in yesterday was have someone run out to get him an appropriately local tank top for the encore.”

“A tank top?” You can’t help but laugh. “In all the years I’ve known Brian I have never known him to wear a tank top! I’ll believe that when I see it!”

You keep chatting with the band for a little while longer but eventually everyone splits up to double-check their instruments, get changed, and take care of the thousand little things that always seem to get left for the last minute.

“You should probably head out front,” Brian tells you eventually. He still needs to get changed into his own stage outfit, even though you’ve been listening to the audience trickle in for the last ten minutes.

“Yeah, probably,” you agree. You want to lean up and kiss him but even here, in the doorway to the dressing room, you know better than to risk it. Some of Brian’s bandmates seem to have an inkling of what’s really going on, but the last thing you need is for anyone else to see the two of you like that. “I’ll catch you later then?”

“I’ve already told security to let you backstage before the encore,” Brian says. He looks like he wants to kiss you too, but he settles for giving you a bright smile and another quick hug. “I’ll see you soon enough.”

“I’ll be seeing you soon enough at least,” you joke and you let the echo of Brian’s laugh follow you out.

You hadn’t bought a floor ticket originally, but security finds you a spot by the stage where it’ll be easy for you to duck out again later. A few people near you give you curious looks, but luckily none of the double-takes that you’ve come to dread, and no one asks you about the backstage pass still hanging around your neck as the theatre fills up around you.

When the lights finally dim the audience roars and cheers, almost enough to drown out the opening bars of what you can barely make out as The Dark - before the lights slowly come on and Brian is standing center-stage, singing the title track from his debut solo album.

Brian’s voice is amazing. You’ve always known that, even if Brian has never really considered himself to be much of a singer, but you’re spellbound at his performance - the way he balances the guitar with the vocals, the gorgeous harmony of a full band supporting him, his backing vocalists providing a depth that takes you by surprise. It’s not Queen, none of it is, but it’s good, and Brian owns the stage like he was born to do this.

You’re so taken by Brian’s performance that it’s not until Brian sheds the long coat that he initially wore out on stage that you take in the outfit he’s wearing: A loose white shirt with an ornate vest, paired with a pair of tight pants that you think have buttons sewn all over them… until Brian wanders closer to where you’re standing and you realize that they’re actually grommets. You can’t tell if there’s a lining to them or not, but the possibility that that’s Brian’s bare skin peeking through the tiny holes makes your mouth go dry with want.

Brian’s solo material is as excellent as it sounded on the album. You never doubted that it would be, not for a second, but you’re taken a bit by surprise by how well the Queen songs work in the setlist as well. It’s not Freddie singing, or Roger on the drums, or John on bass… but with Brian still on guitar, and Spike clearly knowing his way around the keyboard parts, it all works. The crowd cheers as loud for Tie Your Mother Down as they do for Love Token, and your heart swells with pride for everything Brian has achieved with this album and this tour.

And then Brian grabs an acoustic, and sits down on a stool by himself towards the front of the stage, and you know what is coming even before Brian asks the audience if they’re ready to sing.

“There's a special reason for this song. I didn't write this song, so by right I don't have- I don't have much of a right to be singing it,” Brian says. “But I'm going to do it anyway, because this is in memory of just about the best singer the world has ever seen.”

Everyone around you is cheering but you think you’re going to cry. You want to jump onstage, pull Brian out from under the bright lights and somewhere quiet and private, where you can wrap yourself around him and reassure him that Freddie wouldn’t care that Brian was singing his song at all. You want to take Brian and steal him away from the world, from everyone who still demands Queen from him and everyone who won’t let him grieve in peace.

You want to find somewhere that the two of you can hide away together, until you never have to see this sort of open anguish on Brian’s face again.

The song is as gorgeous as it ever was when Freddie sang it, and the concert continues from there with Brian giving no indication that he had bared his heart and left it bleeding on the stage while the audience sang and cheered him on.

Brian loses the vest eventually, and you’re close enough to the stage that you can see the sweat starting to bead along Brian’s temple and the column of his throat. It’s a strange sort of whiplash, going from the emotional devastation of Love of My Life to feeling like you’re going to die if you don’t get your hands on Brian this very second. He’s always looked damn fine while playing the guitar, but seeing him fully in control of the stage and belting his heart out on every song - when he remembers to get back to his mic in time - is driving you crazy with want.

We Will Rock You doesn’t dovetail into We Are the Champions, like you were half-expecting it to, but even after the band leaves the stage you’re left stunned and entirely captivated by their performance.

“Hey!” A security guard taps you on the shoulder. “You’re the one who’s supposed to head backstage again, yeah?”

You nod. You had almost forgotten about that, and you follow the guard through the crowd to the backstage door, which he opens and motions for you to go through. You walk back, finding yourself in the wings near the stage where the band is quickly toweling off and grabbing a drink before heading back out for the encore.

Brian is quickly shucking off his sweat-drenched shirt and pulling on the tank top that had been mentioned earlier. It’s a simple white with YALE printed across the chest and it hangs loose on Brian’s slim frame, leaving his arms and a good portion of the sides of his torso exposed to the world. You’ve seen Brian naked before but somehow this feels more sinful, and you can feel your dick start to twitch and and your core throb with interest, especially when you realize that Brian is still wearing the same pants as before.

“Please tell me there’s a lining in those,” you say in a slightly strangled voice, motioning towards Brian’s legs and the grommet holes that have been teasing you all evening.

Brian wipes his face with a towel, and only gives you a wicked smirk and a knowing wink in response. “Catch you after the show,” he says, as he’s handed a guitar - an acoustic, you notice belatedly, not his Red Special - and he walks back onstage with the rest of the band.

You’re still distracted by the sight of Brian in an honest-to-god tank top, his sinewy arms on full display, that you almost miss Brian saying, “You might think this is a sad song, but it ain’t.”

And for the second time that evening you find yourself caught off-guard by the genuine, heart-wrenching emotion in Brian’s singing - but the pain that was there during Love Of My Life is now nowhere to be seen. Maybe it’s because you can’t see Brian’s face, or maybe it’s just the warning he gave at the beginning of the song to let everyone know that it wasn’t supposed to be sad… but for the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand how Brian is starting to move on. You think you can see the ways in which sharing his grief with the world like this is healing for him, in a way that you never would have expected.

It still hurts to hear Brian sing, “I don’t believe in being Queen anymore - I just believe in me. Just you guys and me.” But it’s a hurt that’s tempered by the memory of Brian laughing with his new bandmates backstage, the genuine happiness you’ve seen on his face despite the moments of grief that still come through, and you know that even if Brian might not be entirely okay… at least he’s getting there.

And then the song ends and Brian launches into the familiar opening riff of Hammer to Fall, and you let yourself get swept away by the energy and the music.

Your heart races at the sight of Brian rocking out to the heavy Queen tune, your arousal simmering again with every flash of the stage lights that catch on those grommets or cast dark shadows along the lines of the wiry muscles in Brian’s arms. There’s a strangeness to it still, a part of you that’s still a little turned around from the sudden change in mood in the theatre, but that part quickly fades when Brian glances your way and gives you a wink, before sidling up to Jamie to keep rocking out on the guitar part.

You bite your lip to stifle a groan and wonder if Brian is dragging this song out for longer than normal just to torment you. It’s just not fair, none of it is - not the tank top and grommets leaving Brian lewdly on display, not the hot stage lights making sweat bead along his brow, not his quick fingers flying over the strings of his guitar as the song finally, fucking finally, comes to an end and the band takes their bows one last time.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Brian asks you as he hands off his guitar. The question is innocent enough but the look in his eyes is anything but, and for a moment you feel an irrational burst of hatred that this isn’t a Queen show and you no longer present as female because all you want to do is push Brian against the closest wall and kiss him breathless.

Instead you grit your teeth and say, “Loved it, it was great... Please tell me you don’t have to stick around for long.”

Brian throws his head back and laughs, and you have to stamp down the urge to bite at the column of this throat. “Nah, no interviews or meet-and-greet’s tonight. Just have to get changed and-”

“Don’t change,” you interrupt.

“Oh?” Brian raises an eyebrow and smirks at you. You huff at him, hating that you can’t tell him exactly what he’s doing to you in that outfit, and you’re about two seconds from deciding that you don’t care who sees or overhears you when Brian says, “Alright. Let me just grab my wallet and we’ll head out.”

It doesn’t end up being quite that easy. Brian still has to check in with a few people about the travel plans for tomorrow, and it takes some time for the crowds to disperse and a car to arrive to take you two back to the hotel. But luckily the rest of the band just waves Brian off, some with knowing smiles, and none of them hop in the car with you or ask Brian to stick around backstage for any longer than he already has.

It’s torture having to keep your hands to yourself, and after a few minutes you decide, screw it, it’s dark enough that the driver won’t be able to see anything - so you reach out and trace around one of the grommet holes, dipping your finger in to tease at the delicate skin of Brian’s thigh. “These are more than a little indecent, you know,” you murmur in a low undertone as your hand creeps further up Brian’s leg.

Brian catches your hand and laces his fingers with yours, which is fair because you can hide your arousal when you get to the hotel far easier than Brian can. “Indecent is going a bit far, I think,” Brian counters.

“Mm, well, they’re giving me indecent thoughts, at least…”

“Care to share some of them?” Brian asks, and even though the question is quiet you can hear the heat behind the words.

You shrug and glance at the driver, who - if he can hear your conversation - at least doesn’t give any sign of it. “Been wondering if I could get some laces between those grommets, tie you up in a pretty little package…”

Brian inhales sharply and you smile, all teeth and wicked intentions, as he shifts next to you and says, “Didn’t think you liked being the one doing the tying. You always used to want to be the one getting tied up.”

“Oh, I still do. But I can’t help it if those pants start giving me ideas…” you say, and Brian’s quiet groan of frustration feels like music to your ears.

You’re grateful that Brian is already checked in so you don’t have to stop by the front desk, but you still struggle to keep your hands to yourself as Brian leads the way up to his room and unlocks the door. Once you’re inside, though, both of you are on each other in an instant as Brian crowds you against the wall and you finally, finally get to kiss him.

It’s just as perfect as you remember. Brian’s lips are soft but he kisses you with the same passion that you remember from years ago, fierce and demanding and just the right side of rough. He nips at your bottom lip, a move that’s always gotten your blood racing, and when you groan he slips his tongue into your mouth to plunder every inch of you.

You’re so much shorter than Brian and you know that it has to be uncomfortable for him to lean down so far to kiss you, so when you finally pull back to catch your breath you loop your fingers through the grommets on his pants and start tugging him towards the bed.

“Oh, I definitely love these pants,” you tell him, and Brian just laughs and tries to kiss you again. You push him down so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and that puts you at a much more equal height, making it easy for you to tangle one hand in his curls and slide the other along the bare skin of his arm and shoulder. “And this tank top too, fucking christ…”

Brian is still laughing as he finally captures your lips with his again and yeah, that’s a much better use of your time than continuing to talk about his admittedly excellent wardrobe choices. You think you could spend the rest of your life kissing Brian and die happily at the end of it all but you’re still craving more, so you nudge Brian’s legs apart and move in closer to him.

“Wait, wait-” Brian says, breaking the kiss before you can press fully up against him. He’s breathing heavily and his lips are red and kiss-swollen, and you want to lean back in and keep kissing him senseless, until both of you are breathless and desperate for more.

But you know Brian wouldn’t pull the brake unless it was important so you swallow down the impulse to keep touching him and instead ask, “What is it, Bri?”

“We haven’t done this since you’ve… Well I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Brian says. There’s a flush rising on his cheeks that is no longer entirely due to arousal and his embarrassment is palpable in the room.

You know what Brian is trying to ask, even though it’s been a while since you’ve had to have this conversation with a partner. You untangle your hand from his hair and let go of his shoulder so you don’t get distracted as you tell him, “I’m fine being penetrated, if you want to go that far, but we’re gonna need lube. I don’t get as wet as I did before starting testosterone. And I have a dick. Don’t call it a clit.”

“Okay,” Brian says with a nod. He looks serious, and that’s actually a little comforting for you to see. “What about… I mean, if I, er, penetrate you, what do I call…?”

“Don’t,” you tell him. “There’s not really any term I’m comfortable with yet.”

Brian frowns. “If you’re not comfortable, I can get you off without touching that part-”

“No. I’m fine with you penetrating me, honestly I am, just don’t try to talk dirty about what you’re doing,” you say.

“Okay,” Brian says again. “Anything else I should know?”

You hesitate for a moment, because you don’t really want to talk about this… but you’d rather talk about it now rather than have it come up when you’re both naked and more in the moment. “I had chest reconstruction surgery. I don’t have much feeling up there but there’s- there’s scars, and you don’t have to touch them-”

“Do you not want me to touch them?” Brian asks, gently cutting into your nervous rambling before it can really build momentum.

“They’re… not pretty. They didn’t heal up nicely,” you admit, and getting those words out is hard. You still feel ashamed to admit that your surgical results only look good when you have a shirt covering it all up, and you’ve had more than one hookup where you kept your chest covered the entire time.

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Brian says, with a small smile to soften his words and help put you at ease once again. “Do you not want me to touch your scars?”

You have to think about that, and the only answer you can give Brian is, “I don’t know. I don’t like touching them and no one else ever has. If you want to you can, and I’ll tell you to stop if I need to?”

You don’t mean for that to come out as a question but it does anyway, and Brian doesn’t hesitate to nod in agreement. “That sounds good. Anything else?”

You shake your head. “No, that’s everything. Can we just get back to making out now?”

Brian laughs but gently pulls you back in close, keeping one hand on your waist as the other gently cups your face. “Yeah,” he breathes, and then his mouth is on yours again.

You kiss him back fiercely, tangling one of your hands in Brian’s curls again as you lean up and lick into his mouth. You rock against Brian and his legs are spread wide enough that your hips meet his. You moan at the feeling of his bulge rubbing against you and Brian groans at friction against his hardening cock. Brian’s hand that was on your face drifts down, trailing along your side before snaking between the two of you and popping the button on your jeans.

“This okay?” he asks, fingers just teasing along the waistband of your boxers.

“Yeah,” you breathe against his mouth, and as Brian’s hand slips into your underwear you deepen the kiss to distract yourself. Brian’s touch feels good and you don’t want him to stop, but there’s still a nervousness to being intimate with another person - even if that other person is Brian, who you trust implicitly and who has touched you before.

You moan as Brian’s fingers find your dick and brush teasingly along the head, but you’re surprised to hear Brian groan again as well. “Fuck, you’re big,” he breathes as he rubs over your dick, feeling out the shape of it as you harden beneath his fingers.

You can’t hold back a laugh at Brian’s comment. “I’m really not. Just grew a little, that’s all.”

“Grew a lot you mean,” Brian mumbles against your lips, but your retort is lost in another whimper as Brian slides his fingers along your dick again.

It feels so good, his nimble fingers tracing along the exposed head of your dick and trailing down to gather what little slickness they can to smooth the glide of his calloused fingertips along your most sensitive parts. Neither the years nor your transition have not dulled his familiarity with your body and all you can do is cling tightly to his shoulders and pant and whine against his mouth as Brian brings you close to your climax at a frightening speed.

“Wait, stop,” you manage to get out, and Brian’s hand is pulled out of your pants at a lightning speed. You laugh at the look of worry on his face and quickly assure him, “I‘m gonna come too soon if you keep that up.”

“So? You look gorgeous falling apart for me,” Brian says.

He starts kissing down your neck and you tilt your head back to give him more room even as you tell him, “Yeah, but I can’t go more than once now. Get too sensitive, and not in a good way.”

“Ah, well then,” Brian mumbles against the hollow of your throat. He nips at that spot and then soothes it with his tongue, before pulling back and saying, “C’mon, get up on the bed, let’s do this properly then.”

You snort but pull away and quickly start stripping down and Brian stands up to do the same. You watch, mouth watering, as Brian throws the tank top to the side and shimmies out of his tight pants. His cock is hard and precome is already beading at the tip, and you want to drop to your knees and take Brian deep into your throat until he’s coming undone around you - but you’re startled from your thoughts as Brian gently pushes at the hem of your shirt and asks, “Will you take this off too?”

You hadn't quite realized that it was still on and you hesitate for a moment, before pulling it over your head and tossing it aside as well, and then you’re left fully exposed before Brian. You’ve been in this position before but never quite like this - never with a beard and so much body hair and scars across your chest and your dick just barely poking out from your surrounding folds.

Brian takes a step closer and kisses you again, as hot and harsh as ever. “God, how are you still so fucking beautiful?” he says as he pulls away.

You laugh, your moment of insecurity forgotten as you retort, “I could ask you the same thing, Brian May.”

Brian laughs and shakes his head, and pushes you back towards the bed. You lie down and Brian follows you, covering your body with his, his cock rubbing against your hip as he kisses you once on the mouth, then down your neck and chest, and finally across both of your scars as well. “So beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin and you shudder at the feeling of this part of you being touched for the first time.

“I can’t feel that,” you admit to him when he licks experimentally over one of your nipples. “They don’t have feeling, and the scars don’t either.”

“Mm, well what about here?” Brian asks, kissing further down your torso. “Or here?” Another kiss, just above your belly button. “Or here?” Another, just above your dick, and you’re laughing and arching against him, trying to get his mouth where you need it.

And then Brian’s mouth closes around your dick and your laughter is lost in a loud moan as Brian gives a small, experimental suck and pleasure overwhelms your senses. “Bri- oh, fuck, Bri-” you pant, hands clawing at the sheets and pawing over Brian’s head as he pulls back to kitten-lick around the head of your dick.

It’s almost too much, too intense, and luckily Brian seems to figure that out on his own because you’re pretty sure you’ve lost the ability to speak. He moves away from your dick for a moment, moving down further to lick around your core. It’s messy and sloppy wet but you only realize what Brian is doing when you see him suck a finger into mouth to wet it, before bringing it towards your entrance.

“This okay?” he asks, rubbing along the outside for now. “I don’t have lube, and I don’t want to hurt you…”

“‘s fine,” you manage to get out and then Brian is pressing his finger inside of you. You whine as he starts to move it and you can feel yourself starting to get a little bit wetter with every thrust.

Brian pushes a second finger inside as he leans back down to lick a stripe along the underside of your dick, and the almost-uncomfortable fullness is a welcome contrast to the lightning of pleasure that skitters up your spine as Brian’s mouth reduces you to wordless moans and whines. He’s always been good at this, with his wickedly clever tongue and long fingers moving deep inside you, but it’s so much more now that you’re on T - more sensitive, more overwhelming, physically more of you for him to work over.

“Bri, Bri, Bri-” you moan, and his name and a tug on his hair is the only warning you can give before your orgasm crashes over you. You arch against his mouth and writhe on the bed as he keeps his mouth over your dick, his tongue flicking against the head over and over, his fingers still trying to move inside you even though you’re clenched so tightly around them that it almost hurts.

The whole thing is almost painful but in the best way possible, pleasure racing through your entire body, your dick and core throbbing as overstimulation sets in. Your loud moans turn into high-pitched whines that cause your voice to crack and you don’t know if you want to tell Brian to stop or keeping going forever because it’s too much and you’re in ecstasy but god, it’s too much-

When Brian finally moves away all you can do is lie underneath him and try to catch your breath, even as your dick still twitches with the final aftershocks of your orgasm. You came so hard that you’re nearly crying, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and your brain so scrambled that you don’t know if you want to laugh or sob but you’re boneless and riding high on endorphins as Brian kneels over you, one hand quickly stripping his cock.

“I can-” you mumble, trying to reach down to help him with a hand that doesn’t quite want to cooperate with you, but Brian uses his free hand to pin yours down, lacing your fingers together.

“Next time. ‘m not gonna last long,” Brian admits. “Fuck, you’re amazing, Y/N, do you have any idea what you look like now?”

“I’d look better with your cum on me,” you say, and where that came from you have no clue - some deep part of your sex-fried brain dredging up that idea without any conscious involvement from you. You can barely even speak and the words come out more as a mumble than anything remotely sexy, but it’s still enough for Brian to groan loudly and fall over the edge of his own climax.

His cum hits your chest, covering your scars and landing across your belly, and it’s a little gross but it’s also a little hot. It’s not something Brian ever did to you before and with how easy it was to fall back into having sex with him after all these years, there’s a part of you that lights up in happiness at finding something new to it all - even something as unexpected as this.

Brian collapses next to you on the bed, also panting heavily, and it’s quiet in the room for several long moments. “I need a shower,” you eventually mumble to break the silence. “Before this dries in my body hair.”

Brian snorts. He has one hand flung over his face as he catches his breath, but he moves it as he rolls over onto his side to look at you. “Sorry about that. I can get you a washcloth-”

“I can get it myself,” you say, though you’re not actually sure that your legs are working yet. “Especially since I didn’t even get you off myself.”

“Didn’t need you to,” Brian says. “Seeing you fall apart like that nearly did me in completely.”

“Still.” You don’t like not reciprocating for your partners, even if Brian doesn’t care. “I’ll blow you in the morning to make up for it.”

That gets Brian laughing, and he stands up and stretches out. “Well, I’m not gonna say no to that,” he says as he walks into the bathroom. You listen as he wets a washcloth in the sink, and when he emerges you motion for him to throw it to you so you can take care of the mess yourself.

He does, and as you wipe yourself down you ask, “What time do you have to leave in the morning?”

“Not that early. Noon, one o’clock - somewhere around there,” Brian says as he lies back down on the bed. “Think it’s only a two hour drive over to Providence.”

“Mm, that sounds about right, yeah.” You toss the washcloth aside and flop back down with a comfortable sigh. You look over at Brian, who’s propped up on one elbow so he can face you properly, and you grin. “If we run out for lube and condoms in the morning, you can fuck me properly before you go.”

You’re expecting Brian to laugh and he sort of does. There’s a small huff of amusement from him, but there’s also a furrow starting to form between his brows that makes you a little worried. But before you can ask if everything is alright, Brian says, “I have a better idea. Come to Providence with me.”

Out of everything that Brian could have said, you never would have expected that. “What?” you say with a small laugh. “Brian, I can’t!”

“Why not?” Brian asks. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Well, no,” you admit. You knew that you weren’t going to be in any shape to go into work in the morning after the concert, so you had taken the day off to give yourself a proper long weekend.

“Then come to Providence,” Brian says again. “Come to the show tomorrow night, and then we’ll drop you off in New Haven on our way back through on Saturday.”

It’s a tempting thought, and you’re a little scared by how much you want to say yes. You sit up, scrubbing a hand over your face with a small sigh. “Brian, I…”

Brian sits up as well and keeps a respectable distance between the two of you - and that helps, knowing that the two of you can have a serious conversation about this even though you’re both sitting in bed together. “You’re thinking too hard, Y/N,” he says softly. “What’s on your mind?”

“That I’m not in my 20s and I can’t go on tour with a rock band on a whim anymore,” you say. “And that I don’t care, and I want to go anyway. And I’m-" And you decide, to hell with it, you can't keep dancing around this any longer. "I’m worried about you, Brian. You get this sad look in your eyes, sometimes, that scares me a little to see. And I’m trying to figure out if sticking around for longer will make things better, or if postponing our goodbyes will just make everything worse in the end.”

Brian doesn’t say anything immediately. You glance at him, a bit nervous, worried that your honesty may have been crossing the line - but Brian doesn’t look upset or angry, merely thoughtful, and you stay quiet to give him the space he needs to think over his response.

“After Freddie… passed,” Brian says slowly, “I didn’t want anything to do with Queen. It hurt too much and I just wanted to move on. And this new band, and this tour… None of it is like Queen was, and when we first set out that’s exactly what I needed. But seeing you again… having that bit of the past come back to life… It’s made me realize that I think I’m ready to face Queen again. The band may be over but it’ll always be a part of my life, and I think I’m alright with that now.”

He smiles at you and it’s small but completely genuine, and there’s no hint of sadness in his eyes as he says, “I want you to come to Providence because I’ve missed you. I liked having you backstage, and I liked performing knowing that you were waiting for me at the end of it all like you always did before. But if you don’t want to come with me, you don’t have to. I’ll still visit at the end of the US tour leg, if that offer still stands.”

“Of course it still stands,” you say, because that’s the easiest part of Brian’s response to address.

This isn’t 1978 and you aren’t 29 anymore, and maybe you shouldn’t run off with a rockstar for the weekend. But this is Brian, and despite the years that have passed and the ways in which both of you are now different, maybe not everything has to change.

“Is it going to be a problem with the band if I tag along?” you ask.

Brian’s smile brightens a little. “Nah, the band’s not going to mind - and I won’t let the roadies say anything about it, even if they want to.”

That doesn’t mean it won’t be risky, and it’s definitely more than a little impulsive - but there’s a familiarity in the spontaneity, a flashback to years past when you never hesitated to put your life on hold to follow Brian on the road. And you find yourself starting to grin a little as well at the idea of having that again, even if it’s only for a day or two.

“Alright then. Yeah, I’ll go to Providence with you,” you say and Brian, laughing and grinning madly, leans forward to kiss you in delight.

#brian may x reader #brian may x trans reader #brian may fic #brian may fanfic #queen band fic #my fic #brian #(I am really proud of this one and writing it was a wonderful distraction while I was away so I hope you all enjoy it too!!)

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tricktster · 5 years ago

Note

Bruh don't leave us hangin' on the happenstances that took place in the frat house, fill us the fuck in.

Oh sorry I put this part in another post but we got there and were brought into the frat house’s private bar, where we talked with the guys who had invited us and a few of their frat brothers for maybe 20 minutes and drank a beer or two. This is a weird sense memory, but I clearly remember that they had an 80s style boombox on a long banquet table, and they were using it to play a David Hasselhoff cassette tape. I don’t remember what we talked about, other than them all being excited for a barbecue the next day.

I also don’t remember what happened to trigger this, but eventually there was some cue that caused all of the frat brothers in the room to exit through the (only) door, which led back to the main frat house. This left me and Y on our own in this elaborate, wildly well appointed bar. Keep in mind that German frats are, in many cases, better understood as sort of private, wealthy clubs/semi-secret societies that are entirely unaffiliated with the university. This one was sitting on a piece of real estate worth a few million euro, easily, and unlike American frats, this place was NICE. Framed photos on the wall, lacquered bar tables, hardwood floors, restaurant grade keg system... and there’s just me and Y in this space, all by ourselves, kind of bemused as to how we ended up there.

Y spotted it first, the only thing in the bar that immediately leapt out as janky and weird besides the boombox/Hasselhoff situation. “Is that Bert?” She said, pointing to a small tabletop ornament in the corner of the room opposite us. It was. I know this is the goofiest part of the story, but it was a 1.5 foot tall Bert from Sesame Street, and Bert, we simultaneously realized, was dressed in an SS uniform, a tiny mustache, and had been made to pose like he was heiling.

So, like, it’s 2019 now and you can’t throw a stone in America without hitting some edgy asshole white boy who thinks it’s funny to appropriate Nazi imagery. But this was 2008, it was Germany, this was pre-populism/white nationalism gaining a foothold in europe again, and we had enough of a sense of the culture at large to know that nobody, no matter how edgy, joked about Nazis - at least to us, and at least not so casually as dressing Bert up like fucking Hitler. It was an actual taboo, and seeing it openly broken like that was genuinely shocking.

We were taken aback for a long moment, and then I, filled with equal parts beer, buttweed, and genuine apprehension, began poking around more seriously, like a character in a goddamn horror movie. The photos? Alumni of the 500+ year old frat, many in their own SS uniforms. Nationalist banners, fucking swatstkas, all fully represented on the walls of this bar with one exit, in a private club’s mansion surrounded by a ten foot wrought iron spiked fence.

We didn’t know at the time that these frats had a reputation for viewing the Nazi party in a pretty sympathetic light. Y had just wanted to see what the inside of one of those swanky, multimillion dollar houses looked like. I’d only wanted to distract myself from the fact that I’d just smoked marijuana that had been smuggled into the country inside an Egyptian bouncer’s butt. And now we were out of our element, in enemy territory, and the only non-frat members in that house were me and Y.

It stands mentioning again that, while I am a relatively tall, relatively strong, admittedly aryan-passing white woman, the person the frat brothers had been intending to bring back to the house until I got yanked along for the ride was Y, and Y was (and remains) a four foot tall, dark skinned, obviously latina woman, and in the context of being in this Nazi fucking beer hall, that scared the shit out of me. Again, these guys were openly flouting the biggest cultural taboo we knew of, in a house located less than 1000 feet from the empty space memorializing where the town’s synagogue had once stood, which meant that we had ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what their intentions had been (or still were) towards Y, but had plenty of reason to suspect that they were NOT GREAT.

So I’m there, trying to figure out an exit strategy and simultaneously trying to figure out how many Nazi sympathizers I can reasonably hold off to give Y time to make a break for it if anything broke bad (realistically, even being in the best shape of my life and by that point absolutely swamped with adrenaline, zero), and Y’s just kind of staring down at her beer, glassy-eyes and muttering “holy fuck, okay, fuck,” and about ten of the brothers suddenly file back into the bar.

“We have decided,” one of the original two guys we’d met downtown said, very formally. “To invite you to our barbecue tomorrow.”

“Since you both live in [relatively distant suburb] and the busses have stopped running, it really isn’t safe for you to go home.” Another guy said. “And besides, the barbecue starts at 10:00 am tomorrow. You should just spend the night here.”

Now, in retrospect, these were almost certainly just profoundly shitty wealthy dudes that wanted to sleep with us. There was almost certainly nothing more sinister intended in that invitation than like, the threat of having to discover what a bunch of Nazi sympathizers trying to seduce us would look like. But that’s the fucking thing; when you’re dealing with people willing to openly break one essential social taboo so openly and without any apparent fear of consequence for doing so, you really can’t predict what their intentions or actions will look like.

And so, at that point, all Y and I cared about was getting the fuck out of there. I can’t remember what excuses we came up with for needing to abruptly split. I know we definitely promised to return the next day for the barbecue (no fucking way), I know I gave a Nazi my (fake) phone number, and I know that I had never felt such relief as I did at the moment that we were safely on the other side of the 10 foot iron fence and all we had to contend with was navigating the five miles back to our student apartments in the dark.

On the way home, we grabbed some falafel from the doner place right before it closed at 3 am, and that falafel, my dudes, was the only good decision we made that night.

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quakerjoe · 6 years ago

Text

Cuppa Joe for Sun., 7 Jan 2019

I was sitting in my living room with my best mate watching “Parts Unknown” with the late Anthony Bourdain and the episode we were watching was in Welch, West Virginia. Watch it. Seriously, watch it. Listen carefully. You may just get more woke. I know I did. You see, people from regions like this are typified as hicks, hillbillies and rednecks. Well, to be fair, they are. Good ol’ coal country folk bent on guns and Jesus with a deep love of football. It’s never been my cuppa tea, honestly, but having been through places like this, I’ve experienced a couple of things. If I shut up and just listen, these folks, for the most part, are just like anyone anywhere else. They have pride in their homes, their families, their traditions, and they certainly don’t love, more or less, as frequently, or deeply as we do. Their pleasures are simple. Their tastes plain and direct. Their pains every bit as real as yours or mine.

Looking at them strictly through a political scope of late, especially since 2016 where my vision narrowed a bit, I’ve come to remember something; something that’s a bit embarrassing and certainly bears the burden of a dose of shame, now that I’ve watched this episode of “Parts Unknown”. Bourdain visited a coal mine and fired machine guns and ate the local delicacies of the area and talked to the folk, even being so brave as to broach the topic of politics in this once deeply blue, now deeply red and pro-trump part of our nation. “I’d lost my way,” I realized as I did something I haven’t done in a long time. I listened.

Now don’t get me wrong here; I’m not about to defend these poor bastards for voting for trump. Not in a million years. They didn’t do their research or homework and they’re guilty for putting that fuckwit in the White House. However, taking the time to listen to the “why” made me look a little deeper. It made me realize something. These simple folk, not overly educated but hard working, kind-hearted people, despite not being on the short path for a Pulitzer Prize for anything intelligent… might just be the geniuses we need. Sounds crazy? I’ll explain.

One of the big reasons they went trump is because HRC gave them all the impression that she was going to kill the coal industry but didn’t make the case well enough about retraining and repurposing their workforce. She ran a campaign against an industry steeped in their traditions now, generations having worked in the mines. Simply, she was an uppity city gal without a clue and she lost them. The problem here, for those unfamiliar with places like this, is that uppity city folk have ALWAYS found some way to come into their small, quiet towns, fool them into buying or investing in shit they don’t need nor want (which goes all the way back to the Carpetbaggers. Look that up if you don’t know what that is). While it brought them good paying jobs sometimes, like Big Coal did, they’re all too aware that their crops, resources and so forth are bought on the cheap there and sold by middle men for small fortunes in the big cities. They know full well they’re getting screwed, but they also don’t really have the means to exploit the market directly, eliminate the middlemen, and see that small fortune themselves. Generations have experienced making a little money while their efforts went on to make city folk pretty rich.

So why trump? In short, many feel he’s going to bring change and they like him because he “talks like they talk” and says how he feels and what he means. By now I do hope that’s changed a bit. Still, the orange fuckwit did ring a chord with these people, even though he’s a rich twat from NY. They’re confident that trump will bring change, and you know what? I just caught on that they’re right, just not in the way they’re thinking.

We’re at a strange stage of existence where the well educated are flustered at having to deal with the less educated, including that gap in religious beliefs or lack thereof. Both sides now look down their noses at one another and the chasm of contempt is obviously growing bigger and bigger. It’s no secret that we’re all getting more and more poor regardless of our level of education or faith, and because of that, the rich fuckers at the top utilize that ongoing divide to keep us from actually remembering what makes us all alike for fear we, the actual people, may rise up and literally get rid of them one way or another.

I used to think that the GOP only had eyes for corporations and their cash. It’s why I dropped my GOP leanings years and years ago. It’s one thing to want smaller federal government and fiscal responsibility, but when they’re always doing the opposite and the Democrats actually DID what the GOP’s platform was saying it was for, well, actions speak louder than words. However, I think we can all agree to some measure of other, that today’s Dems are acting like moderate GOPers of the 80’s to 90’s. As the Democrats have demonstrated in this new House, diversity is clearly something that keeps them at a respectable level on the Left, but wait… Watch this episode of “Parts Unknown”. It’s on NetFlix. Watch it and then read the rest of this. I’ll wait.

No I won’t. You know it. Still, watch it. It gave me the following epiphany here, and I’d like you to consider it. The people Bourdain talked to about trump, and we’ve heard it before too, and we mostly gaffed it off, but here’s the genius of it all- They’re right in that trump will bring change. He’s so terrible, so fucking stupid, so damaging to the country, that our only hope as a nation is to REMEMBER what makes us all Americans, not bitch about too many of the things that really don’t matter (yeah, I’ll lighten up on the religious folks, even if I think it’s all a load of bollocks) and look at things from a different angle. Here it is. This change NEEDS to happen, but not in the GOP; they’ll never change. No, seriously, they won’t. They’re loving the cash more than country. No, I mean CHANGE needs to come from the Democrats! For too long they've made dumb choices, their politicians are spineless, and their policies framed in ways that seem to look down at most of rural America (what I call #Murica). Democrats need to shut up and listen. They need to HEAR what troubles there are out there and not just wink and nod and say they’ll try to handle it, but to bloody well DO it. They need to be CLEAR what their message is.

Sanders lost a lot of support because he and his staff never actually spent the time to school the people out here on what DEMOCRATIC socialism (actually this term is incorrect if you want to split hairs- what Sanders is shooting for is Social Democracy; something we already have to a degree and it’s being stripped away and replaced with an oligarchy more and more. Also see Plutocracy) is, and the McCarthy-flashbacks kept people hearing “socialist” only and the association we were taught in school to that word relating to tyrannical countries like the USSR, China and so on and it put too many voters off. Still, Sanders creamed trump in loads of polls while HRC was sketchy; a gamble at best. She didn’t connect with the ‘simple folk’ out in the sticks and in blue territory while Sanders did. The Dems need to own their defeat, admit their part in helping trump get elected, and then move on from there. Americans are all for Progressive ideas; they just don’t trust the Dems to either have the spine to try, the balls to fight, or the strength to carry it through. Again, those people in Welch WV are right- trump will bring change, one way or another. Either we’re going to get rid of Corporate Democrats who ignore their constituents and suck corporate dicks for cash (as the GOP is famed for) and actually CHANGE by getting money out of politics and start working for “We the People”, OR they won’t, and change will still happen, only not in the way these rural folk think. It’ll be the collapse and end of the US as we know it, a division so bad that nobody will come and help because we’ve pissed off and alienated out allies and bowed down, on a global scope, to our former enemies like Russia and China and N. Korea.

So, while city mouse and country mouse may both enjoy time with their families, decent wages, decent jobs, good food, clean air and water, good education, healthcare, and the pride of being an American citizen, we need to remember that these are the important things that bind us together, not only with our fellow Americans, but our fellow human beings all across the planet. There are some things that just WON’T go away, and somewhere in here we need to agree to disagree. Abortion. Guns. It’s too late on these issues. We either respect the separation of church and state and keep abortion legal for the safety and lives of women or we don’t and admit that we’re all up for Sharia Law, #Murican style. As for guns? We’ll never fix this one EVER. Again, watch the show I mentioned earlier. The problem is that we’re so saturated with guns that it won’t matter if there are any gun laws or not. They won’t do a damned thing no matter how much I wish they would. Still, trump will bring change, like they said. The question is, will Democrats make the changes in their party that are needed to literally save the United States and possibly the world, or not change and cement in our history that they ARE the scourge that those on the right think they are?

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wineanddinosaur · 4 years ago

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Next Round: Keeping America’s Oldest Brewery Modern With Jennifer and Wendy Yuengling

On this episode of “Next Round,” host Zach Geballe chats with Jennifer and Wendy Yuengling, sixth-generation sisters of the famous Yuengling family. Jennifer is vice president of operations, while Wendy is chief administrative officer for America’s oldest brewery, Yuengling. Listeners will learn about the extensive history of the Yuengling family and how the Pennsylvania-based brewery has survived for over 100 years.

Jennifer and Wendy then showcase Yuengling’s lineup of beers that includes Flight, Hershey’s Chocolate Porter, Raging Eagle Mango, and many more. In addition, the sisters detail the innovations happening at the brewery. While Pennsylvania is their home market, Yuengling has embarked on joint ventures to expand its audience across the country. Finally, the sisters reveal some of the brewery’s latest ventures, specifically the Stars & Stripes program, Yuengling’s tribute to military veterans.

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Zach Geballe: From Seattle, Wash., I’m Zach Geballe. and this is a “VinePair Podcast” conversation. We’re bringing you these episodes in between our regular podcasts so that we can explore a range of issues and stories in the drinks world. Today, I’m speaking with vice president of operations Jennifer Yuengling and chief administrative officer Wendy Yuengling, who are sixth-generation leaders of D.G. Yuengling & Son, one of America’s most iconic breweries. How are the two of you doing today?

Jennifer & Wendy Yuengling: Doing well, thank you.

Z: Wonderful. Let’s start with just some backstory. Some of our listeners who are on the East Coast will be intimately familiar with Yuengling. Others may have heard of it but never tried it out west. Can you give just a little bit of a history of the brewery and the story from beginning to the modern day?

J: I can start on that and lay the foundation. We are America’s oldest brewery. We were founded in 1829 by our great- great-great-grandfather who immigrated to this country from Wartenberg, Germany. He landed on the East Coast and made his way into central Pennsylvania, where we’re based today in Pottsville, Pa. There was lots of anthracite coal mining during those days. There were lots of thirsty miners out there, for sure. He established his brewery in Pottsville and actually came from a brewing family over in Germany. We have since learned in recent years that he was one of the youngest of many children and his father was also a brewer. He really didn’t have much of a chance at running the family brewery in Germany. So he came to this country and six generations later, 192 years later, here we are today.

W: As Jennifer mentioned, we were founded in 1829. We have been operating out of central Pennsylvania for 192 years. We’re very excited and proud that we’re still in our fifth and sixth generation, which is pretty remarkable for any business. To be recognized as America’s oldest brewery is pretty astounding and something we take very seriously. Jennifer and I are two of the four daughters in the sixth generation and we work side-by-side in the business with our dad. It’s pretty significant in that it’s the first time our family business will transition from father to daughters, because historically it has been passed from father to son. That’s exciting for us to be able to be a part of it. We’ve grown from one small brewery in the town of Pottsville, Pa. We now have another brewery in Pennsylvania right across town, and we have a third facility in Tampa, Fla. We primarily distribute along the East Coast. We’re in 22 states now. Unfortunately, we’re not on the West Coast yet. I don’t know if you’ve ever had the chance to try our beers, but hopefully someday.

Z: Oh, yeah, I definitely have. I lived in New York for a while and spent some time in Pennsylvania, so it’s hard to avoid when you’re in that part of the country for sure. I have to ask a question about this history, too. Obviously, the history of the brewery spans American Prohibition. What did the brewery do during that period of time?

J: That was the third generation of our family who was controlling the brewery at that time, our great-grandfather, Frank Yuengling. We certainly got through a long history of perseverance, which includes surviving Prohibition. Frank was able to diversify. I think he was one as part of the six generations that have owned the brewery who had an idea of how to be entrepreneurial. We weren’t able to make beer during that time, but he was able to make “near beer,” which was one-half to 1 percent alcohol. He was able to keep our employees employed. Then, he also diversified and built a dairy across the street from our historic brewery, which still stands today. He made ice cream and milk products, so in many ways he was able to diversify and keep the company going, and yet still remain in the beer industry.

Z: Absolutely. You mentioned that you’re both part of the sixth generation. Has there ever been a point or points in history where it wasn’t going to be a family business anymore? That’s always challenging. You also mentioned that for any business and certainly in beverage alcohol, there are a lot of pressures and many — whether they’re breweries, wineries, etc. — have found themselves, for whatever set of reasons, no longer family businesses. Has that ever come close to being the case for Yuengling?

W: I think building off what Jen said, we were able to survive Prohibition in the 1920s. Coming off of that, I think breweries started to really rebound and do well. However, I would say our leanest years were probably in the ‘50s, ‘60s and early ‘70s when our grandfather and his brother were running the company. We know that they were close to closing their doors at that time. Fortunately for us, they never gave up and they just hung in there. I think that’s a testament to the perseverance of our family in our company. Those were probably the leanest times where it was really a survival, until the mid-’80s when our dad bought the business from his father and really turned the brands around and reinvented the brand Yuengling and developed lager.

Z: As you mentioned, in the 22 states that you’re currently available in, most of our listeners may be very familiar, but some of them will not be. Obviously, the Amber Lager is the flagship product at this point. Can you talk a little bit about how it came to be and where it still sits in the line of beers that you make?

J: Yeah, I can talk to that. It was shortly after our dad purchased the brewery from his father in 1985, and two years later was the beginning of the whole craft beer revolution when Jim Koch and Boston Beer were starting to come on the scene. Consumers at that time were looking for a beer that had more character, a better flavor profile, and was differentiated from the mainstream industrial-produced beers. Our dad was an entrepreneur as well and took a big risk in coming out with our lager brand. Our traditional Amber Lager beer has become our flagship today. He made the packaging a bit more upscale, introducing it in a green bottle that gave the brand more of an upscale image, maybe an imported-style image. It has that amber color to it and has a sweeter flavor profile than most mainstream beers. Then, we just caught fire. It started out in State College, Pa., Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and then it got to the point where we were only operating out of what we refer to as our historic brewery from the 1800s. The demand just completely outstripped the capacity that we had. By the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, my dad was at a crossroads. We knew we needed more capacity, and we had various consumers and wholesalers who were becoming frustrated because they couldn’t obtain our product. That’s when he undertook a pretty major expansion.

Z: Is that when the brewery facility in Florida also debuted, or was that later?

J: The first thing he did was make the decision to build a second brewery in Pottsville. You can’t build a brewery overnight. It was going to be at least two years until we got a shovel in the ground and then a beer coming off of the packaging lines. To cover that gap there in two years, he was made aware of the last Stroh Brewery in Tampa, Fla. He went down there and met with the owner, Bill Henry, and struck a deal. We were able to start producing our brands in Tampa, Fla., then shipping them up into our mid-Atlantic market to our wholesalers, who were being rationed out of our Pottsville brewery. That covered the gap until we were able to get what we refer to as our new Mill Creek Brewery online.

W: Just building on what Jen said, the lager is our flagship brand. It’s over 75 percent of our business. Since the ‘80s, ‘90s, and 2000s, we’ve built out our core brand portfolio. People that know Yuengling certainly know it for lager. Then we’ve also got this portfolio of core brands that includes Light Lager. It includes our Black and Tan. Now, a more recent introduction, our Golden Pilsner. Over the last several years, we’ve been able to expand our portfolio and reach new drinkers. We’ve introduced things like Flight, which is an upscale light beer that’s low-calorie and low-carb. We’ve done some really fun things to appeal to new drinkers with a collaboration for Hershey’s Chocolate Porter. Most recently this year, we introduced a new fruit-flavored beer called Raging Eagle Mango. We’ve really built our portfolio out over the years, but it all started with lager, and that is by far the brand that turns the lights on here.

Z: I actually wanted to touch on some of those newer beers that you mentioned. I want to start with Flight, because I think it’s an area that we’ve talked about a lot on the podcast is this nexus of low-cal, low-carb beer and other beverage alcohol products. I’m wondering if you could either or both of you speak to what the impetus behind creating that was. Do you find that the beer’s audience is people who are also Amber Lager drinkers, or is it a different segment of the drinking population entirely?

J: I can start and just talk about the genesis of Flight. I think most importantly, we were looking at our consumers to see where they were trending and what they were looking for in their beer. We noticed that the consumers are becoming increasingly focused on the stats. By the stats, I am referring to the carbs and the calories. We saw this opportunity in the upscale refreshment category to deliver what consumers want. They have active lifestyles, and we were able to produce a brand that has a lower-carb, lower-calorie while also delivering on an even better taste level.

W: I was just going to say it was a neat project for us to be a part of as the next generation and as female drinkers looking for something different out of our products. As Jen said, I personally like to drink something that’s lower-calorie, low-carb. We were able to hit those stats with 95 calories, and 2.6 grams of carbs. It’s just a really refreshing, better-tasting light beer to deliver a better experience. We dubbed it “the next generation of light beer,” which is a cool play on our family legacy and our impact on the development of the brand.

Z: Absolutely. On the other end of the spectrum with the Hershey’s Chocolate Porter, that makes natural sense as a collaboration with another iconic central Pennsylvania producer. I’m actually surprised this didn’t happen before. Is it because the era of collaborations is relatively new in beer, because what took so long?

J: Yes, it’s interesting you say that because I think if you look at both of our two companies, Yuengling and Hershey, we have over 300 years of experience between the two of us, and we’re only 45 miles apart. It was a great first year when we rolled out in draft-only in what we call our 13 northern states. It was so successful and we had consumers clamoring for more. In 2020, we also came out with bottles, both 6-pack and 12-pack, as well as draft beer. We found that it’s been a great collaboration and they’ve been a great partner. We’re always looking to raise the bar and offer consumers something different in a seasonal-type product that they’re looking for.

Z: Then, with the Raging Eagle, here you’re talking about a fruit beer. Similar to Flight, was the idea to offer a drink to a consumer that likes lager where that’s not their preferred style of beer most of the time? How did that come to be and your initial foray into this category?

W: I would say we’ve been seeing it with consumer trends over the years, and it’s interesting. We get so many people that come visit us at the brewery so they get to experience America’s oldest brewery, tour the caves. When people come and visit us, we spend a lot of time talking with consumers, understanding what they like about our brands, and where consumer trends are going. We get a lot of great feedback. That’s what tailored our decision to make the Flight and then do some of these more innovative products like Hershey’s Chocolate Porter and Raging Eagle. A lot is based on what we hear from our fans because we’ve got very, very loyal consumers that have been following our brands all these years. We’re very appreciative of that.

J: We saw consumers today craving fun and flavorful styles. Just to give you a little bit of background on the beer itself, our Raging Eagle is a pilsner beer that’s brewed with our classic and cluster hops. We also use natural mango flavor to give you that whole taste. It comes in at 6 percent ABV. We do have it available across our 22-state footprint in both 12-ounce and 24-ounce cans. Folks can always go on our website, www.yuengling.com, and visit the link, find our beer, and find it at places close to them.

Z: Awesome. And when it comes to innovation, I certainly don’t know about a sixth-generation running a family business. I don’t have any idea what that legacy is like, but is it at all challenging or do some of the die-hards take issue with the decision to branch out? Or do they recognize that beer is an evolving industry, and to make it to a seventh, eighth, ninth generation, the brewery itself has to not totally change, obviously, but has to remain nimble and stay relevant in a variety of ways. Is there any pushback against innovation?

W: It’s interesting. We are a company that is very steeped in tradition, as I’m sure any hundred-year-old business would be. I think there’s definitely an appreciation from everyone within the organization and in the employee family that we are built on making traditional beers. But we also recognize, in order to stay relevant and survive for another hundred years, you have to be able to adapt and innovate. For us, I think the key is finding the right balance of what is our core competencies as a brewer, and then also what is new and exciting to keep us relevant to consumers for generations to come.

Z: On this topic of staying relevant to consumers and what’s to come, you mentioned at the outset that currently, you’re in 22 states. Are there plans to expand? Obviously, expanding distribution and expanding distribution and production is challenging. It’s a big country. At the same time, I’m sure you have fans in the western half of the United States, people who are from the East Coast and moved west, how do you look at that possible expansion, and is that something that’s in the works?

J: It’s funny. We talk about our Yuengling smugglers all the time. Folks who have visited any one of our breweries or one of the 22 states that we’re currently in, and they’re loading the back of their car with cases of beer and taking it to the states that don’t have our products available. What we’ve done is, last September, we announced a joint venture with Molson Coors Beverage Company to take our brands to these clamoring fans further west. It’s an extension of our existing brewery. We have these three iconic families, the Molson family, the Coors family, and, of course, our six generations of Yuengling family, where we’re able to partner with them. Later this year, we’ll be able to announce the launch of brands in the state of Texas.

Z: Eventually, presumably, other states as well? Or is that still under wraps?

J: We’ve always been slow and methodical in our growth and our business-model approach. I think for us, we’re going to start off with Texas, start off slow. We still have three New England states within our Yuengling territory footprint that we anticipate opening at some point, too. I think the start of it is going to be the state of Texas later this year.

W: I think Jennifer always says it really well. It took us 190 years to get into 22 states. We’re not in any rush to be a national company. As she mentioned, this partnership gives us a great opportunity to be able to expand and tap into their world-class brewing capabilities, and to continue to drive the strategy and the discipline behind our brands.

Z: You also mentioned that you’re in a lot of states, but I’d imagine that Pennsylvania is your most important state. It’s where the majority of the brewing happens. What is your relationship like with the communities in Pennsylvania — especially over the last year, when visiting the brewery may have been more challenging? How have you stayed connected to the fans, not just in Pennsylvania, but all over?

J: I can start with a high-level perspective on that. Certainly, Pennsylvania is our home state, our home market, home to two of our breweries, and it’s where we’ve got our start. We have our highest share market there. Certainly, this past year has been challenging for everybody, the beer industry included. We’ve done a lot with HARP in Pennsylvania, which is a Hospitality Assistance Response Program. Also, with Cheers PA because we partnered with Aaron Nola, who was a Philadelphia Phillies pitcher, and we’ve done a lot with him to help raise funds and donations for the waitstaff and bar employees who have been so heavily impacted this past year because of Covid and the on-premise and bar-restaurant shutdown.

W: And we did something very similar in Florida. We consider Tampa to be our second home just because it’s one of our largest production facilities. Now that we’ve been down there for so long and we’re doing a tremendous amount of investment in the Tampa market, we are building out our campus down there to create more of a brewery destination with a restaurant, a pilot system, and a yard for entertainment and activities. People will be able to come to visit us in Florida and experience America’s oldest brewery. We’ve invested a lot in that market over the last several years just to make it our second home. When Covid hit last year, we put a lot of resources into the state of Pennsylvania. Similarly, we did a program for the Florida Restaurant Association to try and support some of the bartenders and waitstaff and the people that are part of our industry that have been struggling through everything.

Z: Gotcha. One last question for the two of you. We talked a little bit about some of the newer products that you’ve brought to market. Is there anything else that we should be on the lookout for going forward? Whether it’s new beer styles or a continuing evolving approach? Is there anything that we can keep an eye on?

J: Yes, we talked about our innovations in the Flight by Yuengling, Raging Eagle, and our collaboration with Hershey’s Chocolate Porter. What we have going for the summer is we have our lager flagship brand available in 12- ounce and 24-ounce camouflage cans. This week we’re starting our Stars & Stripes program, which is a partnership with Team Red, White, and Blue, a military veteran organization. We have these new cans — they’re emblazoned with a very unique desert camouflage print and the RWB logo. It’s part of our continued effort to pay tribute to the men and women who have served our country.

Z: Well, thank you, Jennifer and Wendy so much. I have to also ask if there’s anything else that we might have missed, because there’s so much in such a historic brewery, in only a short amount of time. Is there anything else, whether it’s about the brewery or anything else, that people should know about?

W: We’ll be posting updates all summer to build on what Jennifer said about our Stars & Stripes program. There will be a lot of activation coming this summer and a lot of things to continue to promote our brand. It’s nice to see things opening up again, and people can get out there and enjoy a cold beer again.

Z: I have yet to have my first draft beer. It’s been over a year now, and I’m very much looking forward to the day. It’ll be a very, very happy day. There is nothing quite like a draft beer.

W: There’s something about a fresh draft beer. I agree with you.

Z: Well, Jennifer and Wendy, thank you so much for your time. It was a pleasure to hear about America’s oldest brewery and a tremendous institution, not just in Pennsylvania, but on the East Coast. I look forward to seeing what you all are up to as you near almost 200 years. It’ll be a big celebration, I imagine.

W: Very soon.

J: We are planning something for sure.

Thanks so much for listening to the “VinePair Podcast.” If you love this show as much as we love making it, then please leave a rating or review on iTunes, Spotify, Stitcher, or wherever it is you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show.

Now for the credits. VinePair is produced and recorded in New York City and in Seattle, Wash., by myself and Zach Geballe, who does all the editing and loves to get the credit. Also, I would love to give a special shout-out to my VinePair co-founder, Josh Malin, for helping make all this possible and also to Keith Beavers, VinePair’s tasting director, who is additionally a producer on the show. I also want to, of course, thank every other member of the VinePair team who is instrumental in all of the ideas that go into making the show every week. Thanks so much for listening and we’ll see you again.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article Next Round: Keeping America’s Oldest Brewery Modern With Jennifer and Wendy Yuengling appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/next-round-yuengling/

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johnboothus · 4 years ago

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Next Round: Keeping Americas Oldest Brewery Modern With Jennifer and Wendy Yuengling

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Jennifer & Wendy Yuengling: Doing well, thank you.

Z: Is that when the brewery facility in Florida also debuted, or was that later?

Z: Eventually, presumably, other states as well? Or is that still under wraps?

Z: I have yet to have my first draft beer. It’s been over a year now, and I’m very much looking forward to the day. It’ll be a very, very happy day. There is nothing quite like a draft beer.

W: There’s something about a fresh draft beer. I agree with you.

W: Very soon.

J: We are planning something for sure.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article Next Round: Keeping America’s Oldest Brewery Modern With Jennifer and Wendy Yuengling appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/next-round-yuengling/

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shirlleycoyle · 5 years ago

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Rural Transit Agencies Are Keeping People Alive

A few days after Jeanne McMillin started working as a dispatcher for Little Dixie Transit in the small southeastern Oklahoma town of Hugo nearly 20 years ago, she got a call from someone she described as “a little lady.”

Unbeknownst to McMillin, this lady had been a long-time rider. But McMillin was having a hard time getting all her information down. There were three different phones, two-way radios blaring constantly, and lots of activity in the office of people coming and going. It was all so much more chaotic than she expected when she took the job at the rural public transit agency. So McMillin asked the lady two or three times for her origin and destination, just to make sure she got it right.

“She kind of laughed,” McMillin recalled, “and said, ‘honey, are you new?’” McMillin chuckled at the recollection and the good-natured way the woman responded to her difficulties adjusting to the new job. “She could just tell.”

Little DIxie Transit is a public transportation agency, like New York City Transit or the LA Metro. But the similarities end there. It doesn’t have billions of dollars to spend every year or a staff of tens of thousands to serve those riders. In 2018, Little Dixie Transit had a $2 million budget and a staff of about two dozen. Rather than moving millions of people a day, they move hundreds. And when someone has somewhere to go, they call the landline and talk to someone like McMillin.

McMillin says you can learn an awful lot about a person simply by knowing where they’re going, something that Google, Apple, and countless tech companies have since discovered. A person’s travel habits are intimate, revealing details. Of course, McMillin wasn’t out to profit off that information. But it meant riders became much more than riders to her.

When that “little lady” would call, she’d tell McMillin she needed to go to Walmart or get her hair done. They’d chat about what they were making for dinner, when the lady’s children were coming to visit, and when something around the house broke that needed fixing.

“It became personal because you knew this person, her life, her activities, what she liked to do,” McMillin said. “You always thought she was going to be there, because she had always been there.” And Little Dixie Transit was always there for her, too.

The coronavirus crisis has had a powerful revealing effect on all aspects of American life. Most poignantly, it has shown us what is essential to our health and well-being. In big cities, public transportation systems that get essential workers where they need to go have received deserved recognition for their critical role in managing the crisis.

But the transit agencies across the country that serve rural populations have been less recognized. In large part, this is because many people don’t even know there’s such a thing as a rural transit agency. When most people think of public transit they think of trains and buses in dense urban areas. And when they think of rural areas, they picture people in cars driving everywhere.

But these services, which typically use smaller vans that seat a maximum of 14 people, are just as critical. They may serve fewer people, but are vital lifelines for the people who rely on them. Without these rural transit agencies, old folks would have to permanently leave their homes, the sick would routinely miss medical appointments, and some people would be stranded far from grocery stores and social events.

Motherboard spoke to four administrators of rural transit agencies and two statewide directors about the role they play in their communities for this article, and all of them stressed the underappreciated aspect of their services.

“We’re not a big urban system,” said Melissa Fesler of First Capital Trolley in Guthrie, Oklahoma. “We may not impact as many lives, but we do impact the lives of those we serve.”

In 2018, America’s 1,280 rural transit agencies made more than 125 million combined trips, according to data compiled by the American Public Transportation Association. The data doesn’t break down the purposes of those trips, but the rural transit employees Motherboard spoke to said they serve a variety of purposes. Some of their riders don’t own cars either for financial or health reasons. Others are on dialysis or receiving chemotherapy that require regular trips to health centers far from their homes and don’t have anyone else to provide that transportation. A significant portion of rural transit ridership tends to be elderly, allowing those customers to live in their homes longer than they otherwise could. Many rural agencies partner with drug courts to take people with suspended licenses to their appearances. Others bring children to school or activities while their parents are at work. Basically, if you cannot drive yourself for whatever reason, rural transit fills the gaps.

Rural transit’s proponents believe it is not merely a vital lifeline in times of crisis, but a key component to any recovery. “I always say there’s two reasons people ride the bus,” said executive director of Oklahoma Transit Association Mark Nestlen, “to make money and to spend money.” Even if that’s not strictly true, it’s a decent rule-of-thumb. For that reason, Nestlen calls transit “an economic development program that happens to have quality of life benefits.”

It’s important to not put too much stock in economic impact analyses, as they’re often little more than glorified guesswork. That being said, a host of studies have consistently found public transit in both rural and urban areas pays for itself by creating jobs, saving people money, improving health care access and outcomes, and saving lives. While the exact dollar benefits range greatly, studies consistently find rural transit is worth the money.

But these rural transit experts also said recent events have underscored how federal rules and funding formulas make it difficult to provide better or expanded service to those who need it. As a result, some are worried about what the future will bring.

“I’ve never experienced anything like what we have gone through in the last couple of months in almost 20 years of doing this work,” McMillin said, “and I’m very concerned about where we’re going to be at when we come out the other side.”

Like their urban counterparts, many rural transit agencies didn’t shut down when their respective states issued stay-at-home orders. The managers I spoke to all recounted similar thought processes, ones reminiscent of the mutual aid networks that have sprung up around the country. They asked themselves how they can still serve their communities even if it means adhering to social distancing and putting their community first, personal finances second.

Because many of their riders use the service to get to grocery stores, several rural agencies Motherboard spoke to quickly pivoted to grocery and meal delivery. Kari Ruse, transit manager at the Nebraska Department of Transportation, said many of the rural agencies in her state are now de facto grocery delivery services, free of charge.

So too is Goose Creek Transit in Sheridan, Wyoming, which primarily serves the town’s elderly population and whose goal, according to manager Steve Ainslie, is to enable seniors to live in their homes for as long as possible. Normally, that means bringing seniors to and from the senior center, but with social distancing rules in place, Goose Creek Transit has become their go-to Walmart delivery service. Ainslie decided to waive the $2.50 fare because “it just didn’t seem like the right idea to ask” for that money.

Not only did many rural transit agencies stay open, but they are also facing expenses and various inefficiencies that are pushing their budgets. Most obviously, they had to buy personal protective equipment for their drivers—many of whom are themselves senior citizens supplementing retirement income—and gallons upon gallons of hand sanitizer and other cleaning supplies, expenses they either didn’t have before the outbreak or were much lower prior to the crisis. Fesler of First Capital Transit told Motherboard she’s been spending $80 per gallon of hand sanitizer, not to mention sanitizing all 60 vehicles between each passenger.

Image: Oklahoma Transit Association

Some rural transit agencies have it better than big city agencies that typically move millions of people, at least financially speaking. Although agencies big and small have seen ridership plummet, the CARES Act, which provided $25 billion for public transportation, will cover agency shortfalls in the 10 largest transit regions for an average of 5.4 to 8.3 months, according to an analysis by the non-profit think tank TransitCenter. For the rest of the country’s transit systems, CARES Act funding will last an average of 12.6 to 20.8 months.

This is because the CARES Act uses the same federal funding formulas as the feds do in normal times to divvy up that $25 billion, which, as Ben Fried of TransitCenter told Motherboard, “shortchange transit agencies in large cities, distributing less money relative to their share of national ridership.”

However, TransitCenter notes these are just averages, and some rural agencies are in just as dire funding straits as big city agencies due to the vagaries of these broad formulas.

In order to receive money from the feds, rural transit agencies have to scrounge up some cash on their own. For operating expenses, agencies have to match the federal contribution dollar for dollar, while administrative and capital expenses are one local dollar for every four federal ones (the CARES Act money doesn’t require a local match).

Some rural agencies get that local match from city or state tax revenues. Others raise the money on their own by providing contract services for non-emergency medical transportation, drug courts, and other local government agencies for their transportation needs.

This is a cumbersome, inexact process that works better for some rural agencies than others during normal times. Because the CARES Act uses the same basic formulas, the coronavirus crisis has therefore only exacerbated those differences, meaning those who normally struggle to put together local match funding are in even worse shape during the crisis.

First, those federal funds for rural transit agencies—which amounted to $740 million for rural transit agencies this fiscal year before the CARES Act stimulus—are appropriated based on performance metrics. The two most important metrics are how many trips the agencies provide and how many miles the vehicles travel while picking up and dropping off riders. Both of those statistics have plummeted nationwide in recent weeks.

Plus, agencies that used to transport multiple passengers at a time have changed their policies to enable social distancing. Now, they have either severely limited vehicle capacity or stopped taking multiple passengers entirely. This adds vehicle miles travelled—and the related fuel and maintenance expenses—while providing service for fewer people, making their operations appear less efficient, which hurts their federal outlay.

On top of that, those same performance measures are the ones transit administrators show to local politicians to demonstrate they’re providing a valuable service to the community. This helps justify the local match funding so they can in turn receive the federal funds. But, with tax revenues plummeting, will local or state governments continue providing that funding, especially if rural transit agency’s metrics look so bad on paper?

Even the agencies that raise their own matching funds are worried. Little Dixie Transit, for example, gets most of its matching funds through non-emergency medical transportation contracts that pay for Medicaid patients to get to their doctor’s appointments. In rural areas, those trips can take hours each way. Dialysis and chemotherapy patients are still going to their appointments because they’re medically necessary, but McMillin estimates about 75 percent of non-emergency medical trips have been cancelled. As of the end of April, she has no idea how she will make up for that lost revenue.

In keeping with the vagaries of federal funding formulas, some agencies are more worried about the future than others. Ruse, for example, thinks the $27 million Nebraska got through the CARES Act will help see Nebraska’s transit agencies through the difficult months ahead. Others are hoping this crisis spurs more fundamental changes in how rural transit is funded so they aren’t scrounging for dollars every year to get that federal match.

Depending on the specifics, this would likely be a great development, Nestlen believes.

“Congress never sat down at the table and said ‘let’s develop a rural transit program. What should it look like?’ They sat down at a table and said here’s the urban transit program…we’re going to have everything be the same and just put it in rural," he said. "When you do that, you’re going to put a square peg into a round hole.”

It is to their credit that the rural transit agencies do not operate like square pegs in round holes. To a person, the people interviewed for this article were proud to be serving their communities in these difficult times. Some said it reminded them why they got into this line of work to begin with. Fesler had a driver thank her for assigning her to deliver meals to seniors, because she was just grateful to be making a difference at a time where so many of us feel so isolated and powerless, the exact opposite of what a good transit system does for its passengers.

One of the people who has been reminded what she got into this line of work lately is McMillin. Seven or eight years into her tenure at Little Dixie Transit, the “little lady” who welcomed her to the new job passed away. McMillin and a half-dozen other Little Dixie Transit employees went to her funeral. After all, they spoke to her almost every day for years. They knew which days she would be calling and which days she wouldn't. It was those kinds of experiences that got McMillin hooked to the job, helping people one at a time. Never before, she said, has that been more important.

“I can’t tell you,” she added almost as an afterthought, “how many people we transport where we will be the only people they see any given day.”

Rural Transit Agencies Are Keeping People Alive syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

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bangkokjacknews · 5 years ago

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Thai tourism industry and how the Thais are ruining it

The Thai tourism industry has been suffering over recent years, despite the claims of the Tourist Authority of Thailand.

And this is largely the fault of the Thai people themselves and their behavior towards their fee paying guests. Recently a tourist who turned off a moped because he said it was too loud was left dripping in blood when the furious rider punched him in the back of the head, during a holiday in Thailand. This is typical behaviour for the average Thai man who specialise in the cowardly strike from behind on old men, or women, who have had one too many and are ill-prepared for such an assault. Often with a crash helmet or wooden club. You never see Thai men being 'offended' by young, fit and sober chaps. You won't find them attacking anybody who can defend themselves, even from behind and with a helmet. Instead, they run away. Last year Chiang Mai started a campaign to try and lure back Chinese tourists, whose visits have fallen significantly lately. The drop in visitor numbers is thought to be related to the Thais’ constant criticism of the Chinese on social media, causing the them to boycott Thailand. Why have Westerners stopped going? And this is something like the reason the Americans stopped going there in numbers a few years ago. And the British, Australians & Europeans. The attitude of the Thai authorities and, in some cases the population, towards their guests is driving people away. The fifteen-year prosperity, thanks to the wealth Westerners brought in by the billion that looked, only a few years ago, as if it would never end, may well be ending. Take a look at tourism over the last forty-years and a pattern emerges. In the 1970's the early package tours took wealth and prosperity to Spain's, previously undeveloped, Costa del Sol region. The Coast of the Sun was cheap, easy to reach, beautiful, unspoiled and safe. The Spanish welcomed new customers to their bars, taverns, hotels & beaches by the million. And, of course, the crooks moved in too. The pickpockets, the muggers, the taxi driver scams, the water-ski scammers (you damaged my ski, that's $50, gracias). Waiters watered down wine, shops short-changed. Every non Spaniard was an opportunity and the Spanish police were bought and paid for. In on it - up to the nail-bag. So were the authorities. Ugly hotels went up, the beautiful shoreline was ruined, the seawater polluted, condos were bought and never built. Now-famous time share scams were established. . Golf club memberships were sold, to courses that would never be played. Nightmares were had and tears flowed. Greed flourished and wealth changed hands. https://bangkokjack.com/2019/06/19/epidemic-tourist-death-in-thailand/ The Crooks Then the foreign crooks all moved in and gun-fights were common. Taxi drivers cheated, robbed and raped. And the tourists were all chased out of town. People just stopped going there. First the Americans left. Then the British and other Europeans. The Japanese, so affluent during the 1970's & 80's, stopped going. The Russians had a brief look around, after their borders opened in the 1990's, but it was too late for Spain by then. There was no way to change the attitudes of the people by that time. A whole generation had grown up thinking tourists in numbers had always been there, and always would be. But the Russians also found somewhere else to go before long. Spain then spent the next twenty-years with its collective arms out saying, 'where you go, please come back handsome man.' But no-one goes back there now. Not in any numbers anyway. Spain is broke. The money is gone. Buildings lay derelict and a decent condo can now be picked up from a bank for the price of a medium sized car. And it serves them right. Spain was onto a good thing in the 1980's. And they thought it would last forever. But people who are abused, everywhere they go in a country, just stop going there. The tourist dollar went to Greece instead during the 1990's and exactly the same thing happen there too. Now their elderly scavenge for food in street bins and you can buy a decent apartment in Athens for pocket change. But, who would? The gravy train pulled into Turkey next, for a brief while, until the same thing happened there and tourists were chased away by robbing, thieving locals who thought they knew a good thing when it walked past them at night. Who, in their right minds, would go on holiday to Turkey now? Fifteen years ago (or something) the same gravy train left western stations and pulled into Thailand. Is any of this sounding familiar yet? https://bangkokjack.com/2019/08/25/beer-t-shirts-illegal-thailand/ So what is going on? It doesn't take long for the so-called quality tourist to be driven out of town. Parts of Thailand today mirror the Costa Del Sol during the 1980's. And I don't just mean the once beautiful coastline through Naklua and Wongamat that is now so badly scarred by high-rise chicken boxes. And nor do I just mean the polluted seawater, thanks to cheap drainage. It is every baht bus driver who pulled away without giving change. It is every chicken vendor who charged the white face more than they saw the person before them pay. And all the gold stealing ladyboys in the dead of night and every traffic ticket that is issued unfairly. Your Man in the Orient - Albert Jack It is every motorbike taxi driver who beat up and robbed a drunk tourist instead of helping him home and every bar worker who added tabs to a bin. And the tour guides who refused to help a stranded tourist because 'he didn’t pay for a tour guide. Next time he come he pay for tour guide. He learn his lesson and more money for us. Why should we help him now?’ I will tell you why, my lovely. Because he isn't coming back. There is no next time. The next time his (or anybody he knows) cruise ship docks in Laem Chabang Port him and his wife will stay on board, in the casino, and not come to Pattaya or Bangkok. The next stop for them is Saigon. Because you think he 'learn his lesson' sitting, sweating like a farmer, outside Mike's Mall having missed his bus. And you won't take him back to the ship on your half-empty, air-conditioned, tour bus because 'he no pay for guide.' He learned his lesson alright. 'He no come back' - ever. That is why you should have given him a lift, and been nice. And multiply that example by tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Maybe millions of times over the few short years the gravy train has been coming to Thailand. It is every single thing, big or small. Because every time anything like this happens someone goes home and tells all of their friends, on Facebook, ‘don’t go there, go somewhere else instead.’ Most Thais are lovely people Now, obviously I don't mean everybody in Thailand are mistreating their guests. I don't even imply it is anybody outside the tourist centres. It is not that many inside towns like Pattaya & Phuket either. But it is enough. The small minority that are causing people to go home with a bad experience. Just as it was in Spain, Greece and Turkey.. And the Thai police do nothing about these people. Instead the tourist is usually blamed in some way. In Thailand the paying customer is always wrong. And imagine those bad experiences being shared many hundreds of thousands of times by modern social media users in all corners of the world over the last five years. As it is in China, right now. https://bangkokjack.com/2018/11/05/thai-politics-red-shirts-yellow-shirts/ They just don't understand it do they The people seem unaware of any of this. Chiang Mai deputy governor Mongkol Suksai tried to calm feelings down in the province when he said 'it is just a significant difference between cultures which, on many occasions, we Thais are not accustomed to. That is why it is vital that we make them understand how Thai people are. It is our job to show them what is acceptable, and more importantly, what is inappropriate in Thai culture.’ I am afraid not, Mr Governor. You couldn't be more wrong than that. It is an Olympic gold medal effort in being wrong. Who the hell made you deputy governor? The Chinese, Indian and Arab tourists are the level you are at right now, in terms of visitor. They are the customer. They bring the money. This is what you are left to work with. Europe, America, Australia and Russia have all been chased out of town, to Vietnam perhaps. Hurried over the border. This is what Thailand have right now. It is you who must adapt your service to suit the Chinese. If you want them to keep coming. Because if you don't then your tour guides, who have all been learning Manderin over the last twelve months, had better start learning Arabic, Hindi and Urdu instead. And it will serve them right too. Because that is what is coming next. Just ask the Spanish, the Greeks or the Turks. (First published as 'Are Days Numbered for the Thai tourist industry - August 2016) Report by Albert Jack https://bangkokjack.com/2019/08/28/top-scams-in-thailand/ – – You can follow BangkokJack on Facebook, Minds & Twitter. Or join the free mailing list (top right) Please help us continue to bring the REAL NEWS - PayPal Read the full article

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seashelbytravel · 5 years ago

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Khao Sok National Park & Father’s Day

Date of post: June 19, 2019

Location of post: Chiang Mai, Thailand

Date of venture: June 14-16, 2019

Location of venture: Khao Sok National Park, Surat Thani, Thailand

From Krabi, we took a bus to the village right outside of the enterance the Khao Sok National Park.

One of the oldest remaining parts of the natural rainforest, dating back hundreds of millions of years. Preserved by a terrible small pox outbreak that killed 80% of the village population in the 1940’s, and then protected by a rouge group of communists during the 70’s who practiced geurilla warfare tactics warding off colonialism.

We didn’t know where we were going to stay so we hopped in that back bed of a locals truck and headed into town center.

We were dropped at the Green Mountain guest house, where we ate the best food we’ve experienced in Thailand yet. We’ve hit close to 8 towns before arriving here.

John asked to meet the chef and, our waitress got a look on her face, I think she assumed we were going to complain. We told her that her cooking was the best we’ve had yet. We told her about all of the towns we’d dined in before hers. She was so happy, but more surprised that we wanted so badly to tell her how wonderful her crafted cooking was. And it was artiful.

I love Tom Yum Goong. It’s my favorite dish I’ve had here, but I’m making it a point to eat something different as much as I can. And that’s been a pretty easy feat. So. Much. Delicious. Food. And I LOVE the Thai spice. It’s not debilitating and all encompassing like in Texas. Although, don’t get me wrong, I love our TexMex. Thai spice has so many other flavors that compliment the fire you’re eating.

We ended up staying at the guesthouse where the restraraunt resided. Our room was very nice and tucked away. When we first arrived, I walked up to the super sweet pupper of the guesthouse. I said “Hi baby” and without looking, his tail started thumping.

His name was “Coffee” and he looked like a little adorable hybrid dog bear. So sweet. When we left, John threw him some chicken. He slept outside of our room the two nights we stayed.

We scheduled our “jungle trek”. Two days, one night on Cheow Lan Lake. Sleeping on floating bungalo’s in the middle of the lake.

The next morning the van picked us up, and we immediately met a couple from Colorado. They were my age, and traveling for two weeks. Julie and Joe. Easy to remember all the “J’s”. I thought we were going to be alone, and honestly I was glad to meet other people our age.

We picked up two 18-something British couples who were only a few days into their trip, and obviously processing that they weren’t in Kansas anymore.

We picked up one more French couple, and they became our travel buddies after we emerged from the jungle. Emma and Jordan. Not “Jor-Dan”. Say it with the French accent and the name sounds so much more beautiful beacause, duh. French vs. English in terms of diction, French will always be the more beautiful of the languages, in my opioln.

Okay. We took an hour long, long boat ride to our bungalows. John and I sat in the front. About halfway through the boat ride, we noticed a heavy mist setting in, blurring our sight. Not mist. Rain. You like pina coladas? I do. And getting caught in the rain? I definitely do. We were soaked in 30 seconds. I loved it.

We got to our bungalow and had lunch prepared by the family who lived and hosted these tours with our companions. Then, jungle hike time.

Okay. I wore leggings, a white t, and my trail shoes. We pulled up the the trail on longboat and the first thing we see is a sign that read “DANGER Trail Closed”.

Okiiiiiiii... trusting. Trust is paramount here.

We started anyway. So beautiful. The air smelled healthy. Like it was hosting millions of happy flora. And it was. We hiked for 30 min before our guide stopped us for a “leech check”. Now, I imagine leeches as the big fat black buggies we see in the movies. Nope. The suckers (haha) looks like desperate little earth worms, sprouting out of the ground, clinging to the first bit of your they could. I didn’t have any! Yay! Neither did John. We kept going.

We got to a part in our hike where I guided turned to us and said “Okay, very steep. We climb like monkeys”. Cool. We both (Johnny and I) have our own natural rock climbing experiences (it’s been a while for me, but it really is like riding a bike and my confidence came back quickly) but I was worried about our fellow hikers. Especially the young British ones. Said a quick lil prayer that no one would be harmed. Glad I did because we were literally climbing what John and I think to be a 5.4 on the climbing scale. A legitimate climb. But no one was hurt, not even a scrape (I think). John and I headed the group right behind our guide. Mind you, this man was climbing in FLIP FLOPS. His confidence gave my own a boost. John watched where the guide placed his feet, and I John, and so on. We would call down the line when something was extra slippery or more tough than normal. We were all responsible for each other’s. That’s a uniting feeling.

We finally reached the top. It’s the 6th picture in this post. John was on a perch and looked down to a 200 ft drop. Straight down. He is terrified of free heights and there he was. I was very proud of him. But, his face changed when he realized where he was sitting. We look to our right, and the biggest rainbow took form. Y’all. If you don’t believe in God, spend some time in nature. I’m a very faithful person. I love God more than anything. God has shown itself to me in the most divine ways. This rainbow being one instance, amoung a plethora of divinity. It wasn’t there when we reached the top. But felt like a “You made it!” gift.

Ok, LEECH CHECK. Guess what. I had those sons of beaches all under the tounge of my shoe. Just, enjoying my blood. I was so skeeved out. I don’t have many specific fears. Grasshoppers and crickets gross me out, but I’m no baby when it comes to bugs. These really freaked me out. We all had them. They are sneaky. And pulling them off actually hurts, and you bleed a lot more than if you let them do their business and fall off. Our guides called them “vampires”.

From the mountain, we went to a smaller waterfall (not pictured) and our guide went first to make sure it was safe. He gave the thumbs up and all the guys got up to explore. I thought “uh, I didn’t come to Thailand to sit in a boat” so Julie (our American friend) and I both followed. I stood under that waterfall and it washed away all of the sweat from the jungle. Julie and I both. The guys returned to the boat and Julie and I finally headed back. You ever hear of quick sand? Ha. I was wading in the water back to the boat when all of a sudden, my left leg sank down so fast, all the way up to my hip. But, my right was on firm ground. For real, thank God because I feel like that could’ve been a very bad situation. I’m so proud of my body and its ability. Thankful for it. Grateful to it.

We went back and swam in the lake. We drank rum with our new friends and ate dinner that was caught in the lake. We stayed up late playing “Rummi”. Mom and I used to play it all the time, and it felt like another sign that we were right where we were supposed to be.

Back to the mainland. Our new friends Emma and Jordan, from France, hadn’t decided on a place to stay, so we suggested ours. They booked a room, and it was right next to ours. Yay! We decided to hike more of the park together. I love Emma and Jordan.

You know, with all the bad politics happening everywhere, we are all the same. Emma and I spoke openly about the political turmoil in France and America. We are the same. Emma and me, and France and America. Don’t judge. Just read and absorb.

My fearless sweet heart. We found the waterfall! The big one. We all waded and swam past currents. I probably wouldn’t have been so adventurous in getting to them (and I’m not sure Jordan or Emma wolves been, but they were adventurous in those own lovely way) if my monkey man wasn’t jumping into random pools, jumping from rock to rock. I was a good jumper too, and so were Emma and Jordan! I felt confident. Our waterfall is pictured below.

I love Emma and Jordan. And I cherish our time together. Too short. That’s the crux of traveling. You meet wonderful (again, that word doesn’t even come close to fully encompassing how I feel about the people we meet) people who become in stand “best friends”. And then you have to say “goodbye”. That’s the hardest part.

Walking back from the national park, Emma and I walked together and John and Jordan ahead.

After our honest conversation about politics in the place we love and call home, the conversation turned to family. Emma’s parents run a farm in France, and she helps them. She’s also an occupational therapist for the mantally ill. At a psychiatric hospital. Amazing. She’s 24. I told her about how my mom lived across the country, and when I told her it would take me 3 days to drive (if I sped) or $300 round trip to fly, and that I got to see her once a year, if I was lucky, she was shocked.

I told her I had no brothers or sisters, and inevitably the dad question was answered. She lovingly (without my saying) validated how lonley I must feel. That loneliness. Errrgg. I keep packed down. For lots of reasons. I’ve been shamed for it, inadvertently, and truthfully, sometimes people don’t know how to precieve it. And sometimes, I have such a bleeding heart about it that the last thing I want to do is make someone uncomfortable. And I definitely never want to be a “Debby Downer”. But we were speaking truthfully about our home situations. She was empathetic, kind, and so loving. I told her about my own trip and my father’s own travels. She said “it sounds like a sign to me”. And we exchanged French and English meanings for “goosebumps”. I love her for that conversation. And for many other connections we shared.

We walked the rest of the way home together. Then we had dinner and drinks on our shared porch.

She wrote in my journal and I’ll remember her forever. Hopefully, I’ll get out to northern France for a visit one day.

I didn’t mention I pulled 5 more microscopic leeches off of myself over the next 12 hours. 4, I found in the shower AFTER John, Emma, Jordan and I finished our own trek and... the nasty one. It had lodged itself in my leg. And I found it while still on the bungalows. Our guide poured alcohol on it and popped it out like a pimple. Gross. You’re welcome for that visual.

Not poisoness and I’m not dead so, yay.

Father’s Day was the best I’ve had since my dad died. He is my greatest guide, and will continue to be until I meet him again in heaven.

He was the greatest. Ever. I’m so lucky he created 50% of me. And I’m so much more like him than I ever thought I’d be. I posted about the significance of my trip and him on Facebook and Instagram. I never felt like crying. That’s new to me and I’m totally into it. Grieving, in the sorrowful way, is draining and I never let myself experience otherwise. But this felt like a gift.

This was long. Thank you for reading.

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dave-meowstaine · 7 years ago

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All of them!!!! Muahahaha

Oh god hahahaha

200: My crush’s name is - Elizabeth Nicole Nieves

199: I was born in - London 1998

198: I am really - Happy! :D

197: My cellphone company is - Vodaphone

196: My eye color is - Blue (interchangeable)

195: My shoe size is - 6

194: My ring size is - No idea

193: My height is - 6ft exactly!

192: I am allergic to - Nothing that I know of

191: My 1st car was - Never had a car

190: My 1st job was - Working at my local food store

189: Last book you read - Genuinely can’t remember. I really need to read more

188: My bed is - Too small :(

187: My pet - 2 cats and a doggy

186: My best friend(s) - Are amazing!

185: My favorite shampoo is - Don’t have one

184: Xbox or ps3 - Definitely PS3

183: Piggy banks are - Cute but I never have spare change on me and if I do it just goes in my wallet

182: In my pockets - Nothing

181: On my calendar - Induction day on the 17th of August

180: Marriage is - Amaziiiing if it’s the right person

179: Spongebob can - make me laugh a lot I fucking love spongebob

178: My mom - Is an amazing, strong woman

177: The last three songs I bought were - Green Day’s American Idiot album because it wouldn’t important onto my iTunes from the CD I had so I just rebought the album on iTunes

176: Last YouTube video watched - A stupid Twitch highlights compilation

175: How many cousins do you have? - None. I have 2 step cousins but my uncle isn’t married to there mum, they’re just in a long term relationship so…

174: Do you have any siblings? - I have a sister who is 23

173: Are your parents divorced? - Nope

172: Are you taller than your mom? - Yeah by nearly a foot haha

171: Do you play an instrument? - I play guitar and bass, a little bit on the drums, and I used to play the trumpet

170: What did you do yesterday? - Talked to Lizzie all day (as usual)

[ I Believe In ]

169: Love at first sight - Kindaaa? I mean, I think you have to get to know someone properly in order to love them, but I think you can have a pretty good idea when you first meet

168: Luck - Not really.

167: Fate - To an extent. I think somethings are just meant to be, but we make a lot of our own decisions

166: Yourself - Yes, definitely

165: Aliens - Yes. Our universe is waaaaay too big for us to be the only ones in it

164: Heaven - Nope

163: Hell - Nope

162: God - Nope

161: Horoscopes - Yep!

160: Soul mates - Already found mine

159: Ghosts - I’m not really sure. I would like to

158: Gay Marriage - Of course. Love is love, no matter what the gender

157: War - I believe that conflict is a natural part of the human race no matter how much we wished it wasn’t

156: Orbs - Just light exposure

155: Magic - Would be cool but no

[ This or That ]

154: Hugs or Kisses - Depends on the person. Definitely kisses with my baby girl, though

153: Drunk or High - Probably high because I throw up when I get drunk (I mean properly drunk)

152: Phone or Online - Online definitely

151: Red heads or Black haired - Black haired

150: Blondes or Brunettes - Brunettes

149: Hot or cold - Cold because you can snuggle up and get all cozy

148: Summer or winter - Winter

147: Autumn or Spring - Autumn

146: Chocolate or vanilla - Chocolate

145: Night or Day - Night

144: Oranges or Apples - Apples

143: Curly or Straight hair - Wavey

142: McDonalds or Burger King - McDonalds but I haven’t been since I became a vegetarian

141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate - Milk chocolate

140: Mac or PC - PC obviously

139: Flip flops or high heels - High heels

138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor - Sweet and poor obviously

137: Coke or Pepsi - Pepsi

136: Hillary or Obama - Obama

135: Burried or cremated - Cremated

134: Singing or Dancing - Both

133: Coach or Chanel - No idea

132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks - Who?

131: Small town or Big city - Small town

130: Wal-Mart or Target - British

129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler - Ben Stiller

128: Manicure or Pedicure - No idea

127: East Coast or West Coast - No idea

126: Your Birthday or Christmas - I don’t like either…

125: Chocolate or Flowers - Chocolate but flowers are adorable af

124: Disney or Six Flags - Haven’t been to either so idk

123: Yankees or Red Sox - idk[ Here’s What I Think About ]

122: War - Didn’t I answer this earlier?

121: George Bush - Better to not get into politics

120: Gay Marriage - Love is love

119: The presidential election - No thank you

118: Abortion - I feel that if it is safe and appropriate that the father of the child should be involved, but at the end of the day it’s the woman’s body and therefore her choice.

117: MySpace - That was my shit back in the day

116: Reality TV - Don’t care

115: Parents - I love my parents. My parents have always been there for me and supported me and I am very grateful for that. I know how lucky I am in that regards

114: Back stabbers - Fuck off

113: Ebay - Good shit, cheap prices, probably get ripped off

112: Facebook - I mean, I use it to communicate with friends but that’s it

111: Work - I would rather not, but wouldn’t we all?

110: My Neighbors - The house is rented out but at the moment it’s a single mum and her two kids and she seems nices

109: Gas Prices - Too damn high

108: Designer Clothes - Ehhh

107: College - I’m currently in college

106: Sports - Effort

105: My family - I love my family

104: The future - EXCITING

[ Last time I ]

103: Hugged someone - I hugged my mum earlier today

102: Last time you ate - 4 hours ago

101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile - I’m seeing my friends tomorrow

100: Cried in front of someone - Last night in front of Lizzie

99: Went to a movie theater - Over a year ago with my best friend, Ed

98: Took a vacation - Last month we went to the Isle of Wight

97: Swam in a pool - School Swimming, like, 4 years ago. I threw up everywhere lol

96: Changed a diaper - Never

95: Got my nails done - Years ago

94: Went to a wedding - Never been to one

93: Broke a bone - Never broken a bone

92: Got a piercing - 2 years ago

91: Broke the law - Don’t know

90: Texted - 12:15am

[ MISC ]

89: Who makes you laugh the most - Definitely Lizzie

88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is - My PC ngl

87: The last movie I saw - Inglorious Basterds

86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most - Being with Lizzie

85: The thing im not looking forward to - No idea

84: People call me - Tyler

83: The most difficult thing to do is - Be so far away from my baby girl

82: I have gotten a speeding ticket - Nope

81: My zodiac sign is - Libra

80: The first person i talked to today was - Lizzie. We always fall asleep on the phone together so we wake up on the phone too

79: First time you had a crush - When I was, like, 8?

78: The one person who i can’t hide things from - Lizzie

77: Last time someone said something you were thinking - Lizzie and I always say things at exactly the same time soooo

76: Right now I am talking to - Lizzie

75: What are you going to do when you grow up - I wanna be an IT technician

74: I have/will get a job - I will get a job after I graduate college

73: Tomorrow - I’m gonna go meet up with friends

72: Today - I answered so many asks I have hand cramp :)

71: Next Summer - Don’t know yet

70: Next Weekend - Probably nothing

69: I have these pets - 2 cats and a dog

68: The worst sound in the world - My baby girl crying or the sound of her voice when I know something is wrong

67: The person that makes me cry the most is - Lizzie because of how fucking perfect she is

66: People that make you happy - Lizzie and my friends

65: Last time I cried - Last night

64: My friends are - There’s a lot of them haha

63: My computer is:

Operating System: Windows 7 Home Premium 64-bitProcessor: Intel® Core™ i5-4670K CPU @ 3.40GHzMotherboard: Gigabyte GA-Z87-HD3Sound: NVIDIA High Definition AudioGraphics Card: msi GeForce GTX 970 GAMING 4GBPSU: Cooler Master 600WCooling System: Cooler Master HYPER 212XMain Storage: 1TB HDDAdditional Storage: 500GB Samsung 850 EVO SSDRAM: 8GB Mouse: UtechSmart Venus 50Keyboard: Gigabyte Force K3Headset: Beexcellent Gaming Headset with MicMousepad: Diablo III Reaper of Souls Collector’s Edition Mousepad

62: My School - Is a college in Cirencester. It’s pretty chill, don’t have to be there a lot

61: My Car - Don’t have one

60: I lose all respect for people who - Are assholes or fuckboys (but I respect people who are assholes to fuckboys lol)

59: The movie I cried at was - No idea

58: Your hair color is - Dirty blonde

57: TV shows you watch - Just The Walking Dead

56: Favorite web site - Youtube

55: Your dream vacation - I don’t know. I want to travel the world with my baby girl

54: The worst pain I was ever in was - No idea

53: How do you like your steak cooked - Vegetarian

52: My room is - Messy as shit

51: My favorite celebrity is - Don’t have one

50: Where would you like to be - With Lizzie :((((((((((((

49: Do you want children - I do

48: Ever been in love - I am right now

47: Who’s your best friend - Lizzie and Ed

46: More guy friends or girl friends - Guy friends

45: One thing that makes you feel great is - Lizzie

44: One person that you wish you could see right now - Lizzie

43: Do you have a 5 year plan - No, but I have general ideas about what I want to happen

42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die - Nope

41: Have you pre-named your children - Kinda

40: Last person I got mad at - My mum

39: I would like to move to - Nowhere, to be honest

38: I wish I was a professional - Skateboarder would be awesome

[ My Favorites ]

37: Candy - I used to love Wine Gums and Haribo but I’m a vegetarian now so…

36: Vehicle - Don’t have one

35: President - Don’t have one

34: State visited - Never been to America :(

33: Cellphone provider - Don’t have one

32: Athlete - Don’t have one

31: Actor - Don’t have one

30: Actress - Don’t have one

29: Singer - Don’t have one

28: Band - Slipknot

27: Clothing store - Don’t have one

26: Grocery store - Don’t have one

25: TV show - Breaking Bad

24: Movie - John Carpenter’s The Thing

23: Website - Youtube

22: Animal - Chimps

21: Theme park - Don’t have one

20: Holiday - Scotland

19: Sport to watch - Don’t have one

18: Sport to play - I like Basketball

17: Magazine - I love tattoo mags

16: Book - I Am Legend by Richard Matheson

15: Day of the week - Saturday

14: Beach - St Helens on the Isle of Wight

13: Concert attended - Slayer with Anthrax supporting

12: Thing to cook - Don’t know

11: Food - PIZZA

10: Restaurant - Don’t have one

9: Radio station - Don’t have one

8: Yankee candle scent - Don’t have one

7: Perfume - Don’t have one

6: Flower - Don’t have one

5: Color - Red

4: Talk show host - Don’t have one

3: Comedian - Don’t have one

2: Dog breed - Don’t have one

1: Did you answer all these truthfully? - Of course. What’s the point of answering them if I wasn’t honest?

Sorry I answered so many of these with I don’t know, but I really don’t know haha. Thank you! :)

#asks #anon

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