#people you know me by now. should i watch the sopranos

[mercurialharpy]

Disappointment even when you don't meet your shitty heroes, but they still haunt you.

Step into my own personal wayback machine for a moment. It was Fall of 1992, I was rooming with five young women I barely knew in a college dorm suite, at a college I'd transferred to the year before. I remember looking at an end table and on it, was a comic book. I'd never been into comics personally. Like most folks at the time I'd imagine, I (incorrectly) assumed that comics were for kids, and strictly for superheroes.

I was about to learn how wrong I was. This happened to be an issue of The Sandman, and was borrowed by one of my roommates from her boyfriend. He happened to be there when I was thumbing through it. I don't remember exactly what we said; all I recall was he disappeared, and re-appeared a half an hour later with Preludes and Nocturnes, a collection of The Sandman issues 1-8. I was hooked. Completely and absolutely. From that moment forward, I was a Neil Gaiman fan, and although I wasn't a hardcore consumer of every piece he's done, I would stan him and defend him and his work to anyone who would listen. My roommate and her (now) husband, who remained friends with me for decades after college, have had more than one book signed for me from the man himself.

Following the end of the original Sandman series, the novel American Gods became my second favorite. When, in the late 2010s and early 2020s, I learned my two favorite works were finally in production for television, I was beside myself with joy. Vindication. At least for me, being a fan of Gaiman was like being in a club no one else wanted to be in but you.

In following the threads of the main plot of the series, Morpheus himself was an outcast because of the trauma he suffered at the hands of vile people. In turn, he was not a particularly nice guy. I absolutely got the message that you could be a literal god, and be broken at the same time. This, paired with learning about Greek Mythology while in school, gave me a deep and satisfying understanding of the material that persisted for years. Almost a decade before The Sopranos or Breaking Bad lit a fire under the antihero archetype, Gaiman had it on lock with his work. The best foreshadowing is when you don't see it coming at all, I suppose. I will always be a fan of the work. But I'm not in the club anymore. Even now, I'm gazing at a bound version of the entire Sandman series on the shelf, and I've given serious consideration to tossing it out with the trash bin entirely. In all honesty, I had a sinking feeling when I watched the premier of American Gods on Starz (a now defunct network). It was at once a very good show, and a very flawed adaptation of the novel. In one of the promo pieces for the show, I remember reading that Gaiman was immediately at odds with Producer Bryan Fuller, and the differences ultimately caused Fuller to leave the project while taking some of the A list actors with him. All I could think was "uh-oh. This isn't going to make it to the end." And boy was I right. But not exactly for the reasons I thought.

So now we know. All of the articles I could find discussing the allegations against Gaiman and his current wife are behind paywalls, so I'm not going to link them here. I would recommend heading to Reddit for the ugly details. Both the decades-old assault allegations, and Gaiman's jaw-dropping responses, have left me questioning what exactly I should do with a piece of foundational literature that as a writer, I depended on as one of my touch stones. Another creator on Tumblr (of course I can't find the blog NOW when I need it) mentioned that supporting the remaining seasons of The Sandman TV series and Good Omens is probably a good thing despite a moral imperative to stop supporting the author; it helps maintain an ecosystem of actors and TV/film production that has suffered terribly in the wake of the Covid Pandemic and the recent writer's strike. But that doesn't solve my internal struggle. In discussing the situation with my partner, he quipped "Well, why would he stop being an asshole, if he was consistently rewarded for it? Networks were tripping over themselves to offer this guy deals. Someone had to know what was really going on, and chose to ignore it." Oof. Late-stage capitalism strikes again. While researching this post, I came across a quote from actor Norm MacDonald, from his memoir "Based On A True Story:" “It's true what they say. Never meet your heroes. It turns out they're all a bunch of fucking assholes. They're probably the reason you turned into such a fucking asshole - because they were your heroes and you spent all your time trying to be like them.”

Yup. Accurate. A good Wiccan friend, who has since passed into the Summerlands, told me during a particularly ugly divorce "Harpy, remember the opposite of love is indifference, not hate. " This quote is often attributed to Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel. The source notwithstanding, this quote never sat right with me. In America, we are now contending with an almost terminal lack of empathy, as the authoritarian shit-show circus revs its engine. We are, again, a place where the cruelty is the point, and it appears co-conspirators are literally lining up to inflict as much damage as possible on weaker individuals without agency. I care. I'll never stop caring. This is my fatal flaw, my hubris. My middle-finger to the gods that be, telling me not to care, and look the other way. I will not obey in advance. And I will not pretend that something I loved dearly wasn’t created and elevated via the suffering of other women, directly or indirectly. In short, I refuse to be haunted by an author I once had boundless respect for. As a Norse Pagan, I don't pray to the gods for forgiveness per se. We (or as least I, in my practice) make offerings, and ask for help in just being a better person; take responsibility for missteps and hurtful things, as we know not even the Gods are immune from consequences.

I see none of this kind of contrition coming from Gaiman. I see a lot of narcissistic self-soothing and justification that just, well...turns my stomach. Musician Tori Amos's response to the allegations alone made me sob. I know well, having been the victim of narcissistic bullshit in the past. This avoidance may be a strategy for side-stepping potential legal exposure. Or, it could be that he's just an actual predatory asshole. For now, the book stays on the shelf. But I won't be touching it, or looking at it for a while. The ghosts will just have to chill for a minute, and be content with indifference for now.

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 22nd:  First concert | Triumph of King Freak - Rob Zombie | Eager a/n: a missing scene from an older fic, counting stars (when I look in your eyes)! post-canon fix, eddie pov, established steddie, fluff with a dash of angst, mention of eddie's late mother read on ao3 + ao3 masterpost | tumblr masterlist

December, 1988

“Why does your acoustic have that written on it? ‘This Machine Slays Dragons’?” Steve asks as he watches Eddie strum without looking at his hands. It’s a bit mesmerizing, the way his fingers glide along the strings of their own accord. 

The song stops and Eddie slaps the body of the guitar in his lap. 

“This old girl is an homage to one Woody ‘This Machine Kills Fascists’ Guthrie. Ever heard of him?” 

“He did ‘This Land Is Your Land,’ right?”

Eddie claps his hands together and points two finger guns his way. “Ding ding ding, we have a winner. Yeah, he wrote that and a shit ton of other political critique folk music.” 

“I didn’t know you liked that sort of thing. Sounds pretty far removed from Metallica, y’know?”

“Only in delivery. You’d be surprised how much overlap there is in meaning. But yeah, my uh—” Eddie stops and pulls the guitar closer to his torso and swallows the dust in his mouth that’s gathered from years of not talking about his mother. “My mom was a big fan of it. She loved Guthrie, Baez, Dylan, Grateful Dead, Cohen. You name it, she loved it.” 

Steve’s heart tries to claw its way out of his body to run towards Eddie sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, timid smile, and fidgeting hands. 

“That’s really cool, man. She sounds awesome. How come you don’t talk about her more?” 

“It just—I don’t know. It still hurts, I guess. Which is stupid, I was eight when she died so it should get easier, right?” Eddie laughs humorlessly and stares at his strings like they hold answers to questions he didn’t know he had. He wants to crawl on top of Steve, desperate for warmth and comfort now, and looking at him makes the urge damn near impossible to beat back. So he doesn’t look up. 

Steve adjusts his position on the bed, subconsciously making room. “Hell no, that’s not how grief works, Ed. Wish it was that easy but I’ve seen a lot of death personally and with work, and it changes people. You can tell me to fuck off if I’m like, overstepping here but you were a kid. You’re allowed to be sad about her death, and you’re allowed to talk about it.” 

Eddie pauses for a long moment, considering the validation and how much he trusts Steve. He trusts him with his life, his soul, his heart, his  everything. Maybe everything could include his past, too. His voice is wistful when he starts.

“She used to sing Dylan’s ‘Forever Young’ around the house.��

December, 1974

Eddie sits cross-legged on the floor, threadbare couch behind him as he flips through a comic book gifted to him by his Uncle Wayne. The page crinkle with each turn and he traces the illustrations of each villain and superhero, the words a bit lost on him but the pictures jumping off of the page. Varying shades of saturated reds and blues disappear and reappear beneath his pointer finger and grins. He hasn’t read the story yet– he prefers to make up his own first– but he can see that the good guy is about to win. 

Happy endings are just so rare in real life. 

His mom is in the kitchen, singing softly and stirring something on the stove in a corroded aluminum pot. Eddie picks up the delicate scents of tomatoes and peppers, maybe some kind of meat. She’s been in a bright mood today, singing as she cooks, singing as she did her best to clean up the beer cans and bottles that litter the living room. Eddie even heard her singing in the shower that morning.

It’s not lost on him that his dad’s been gone for a few days. Hell, that’s the only reason he’s able to sit in the living room: there’s room for him. 

His dad is always too loud, drowning out the soft soprano of his mother’s voice. Everything she sings sounds like a lullaby, so it’s fitting that Eddie closes his eyes to listen. 

Eddie loves when his mom sings, especially the song she’s singing now. 

May you always be courageous

Stand upright and be strong

May you stay forever young

May you stay forever young

She never tells him, but he feels like she sings it just for him. 

November 1990

Steve hasn’t been this nervous to give Eddie a Christmas gift since that first Christmas of theirs two years ago. Funny enough, the gift then had been related to his late mother, too. Maybe he has a pattern. The envelope shakes in his hands as he sits next to Eddie on the couch– their couch, actually. At least as of a few months ago when they’d put down their down payment on the small, one-bedroom apartment in the heart of Indianapolis. 

Eddie glances over and sees Steve’s right hand nearly crumpling whatever his gift is, his fingertips white and his smile tight. Whatever it is must be time sensitive, since he’s insisted on giving it to Eddie so early. 

“What is it, Steve? You look like you’re gonna shit yourself.”

Steve laughs, nervous and breathy. “I actually might, and we just bought this couch, so. Just– here. Open it.”

He pries the envelope from Steve’s hand and tears it open, Steve having to caution him against ripping it in half and voiding the fucking the gift. Three rectangles fall out onto his lap, full of typewriter style font. 

“Oh shit, concert tickets!” Eddie smiles and knocks his knee against Steve’s. “Why were you so nervous? This is awesome!” 

Steve nods at the tickets. “Did you see who it is?”

Eddie’d been too excited about finally getting to a proper concert, one that he doesn’t have to set up and break down with Gareth, Jeff, and Frank. When he looks down and actually reads the headliner, his heart stops. 

University of Dayton Arena Presents: BOB DYLAN TUESDAY, NOV 13 1990 7:30 PM

“Steve… is this…?” He can’t find the words, buried and lodged behind the lump forming in his throat. 

Steve watches him carefully as he traces the letters with one finger, a habit he’s picked up on over the years, and gently rests a hand on his thigh and gives it a squeeze. “You okay?” 

Eddie nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m definitely okay.” 

Okay is an understatement. He’s bewildered, he’s humbled, he’s ecstatic. When Eddie tears himself away from the small rectangles that sit on his lap like the gold bars they are, he looks at Steve with wonderment. First, the music box. Now, this. How is he ever going to keep up? 

“I know it’s your first concert but I saw that he was coming around and I just figured it’d be cool, y’know? I don’t know who he’s touring with or anything–” 

He does this, Steve knows. He knows that he rambles when he’s nervous or when he’s put himself out there and for some reason, giving Eddie these tickets feels incredibly vulnerable. Even years later, even after Eddie’s constant reassurance that he could never, Steve would hate for Eddie to think that he’s encroaching on special memories. 

Before he can finish his stream of thought, Eddie kisses him. Just leans over, tickets still in his lap, and claps both hands on either side of his cheeks as Eddie plants one on him. Then again. And again. And again. 

Eddie peppers every inch of Steve’s face with kisses, interjecting in between each one. 

“You’re–” Kiss to the nose. 

“So fucking–” Kiss to the cheek. 

“Perfect–” Kiss to the forehead. 

When he finishes, Eddie rests his forehead against Steve’s and wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, feeling them shake beneath him as Steve laughs. “Always so dramatic.” 

“And you love it. But, wait,” Eddie pulls back and picks the tickets back up. “Why are there three?” 

“Do you honestly think Wayne would ever speak to me again if I got tickets for Bob Dylan and didn’t include him? C’mon, man. Christmas would be so fucking awkward.”

[obsidianpen]

I ADORE YOU

Weres my vape boo?

Saying spend too much time who?

You’re best mom, whoo!

Um u don’t have to post this but I just wanted to say I grew up with a stay at home mom and it was the greatest thing in the world. My mom had four kids in 6 years and somehow found time to watch the sopranos full series. And I wish she had more time! Like she was the hardest working most beautiful women ever and all I wish now that I’m an adult is that she had more fun because I got enough of her. Not that I’m upset I had sm time with her bc she was the bestest part of my childhood but every mom deserves time for themselves. I love my dad and he worked so hard to supply the family with money. But my mom worked tiredlessly to make sure that money was enough for medical care, food, home needs, school, etc. She made sure every dime was well spent while when she asked by dad to go get food he’d pick up 6 Pringle cans and a bag of onions. She is an extremely talented women who during her middle 40s stopped realizing that (she was also in the art field). Idk that one commenter really made me be like wtf (no hate i think they meant well) Because pls pls pls never loose ur love for writing. Not even for my own benefit, but bc I love woman who are dedicated to their interests. Because moms are the hardest working most important individuals (you are literally creating and then raising the next generation) and because moms deserve to have a life outside of their kids and husbands. I think moms are the most important people in society and I’m proud of anyone who can just call themselves a mom.

Sorry for the rants, you don’t need to respond I just wanted to say I love my mommy despite all her faults. Girl idk your faults but u seem like a good person which makes you a good mom and kids r so resilient. I don’t remember anything other than the fact that my mom tried. And that’s what’s most important. If moms loose sight of their interests (which happened to my mom), when their kids are older, they won’t know what to do with themselves. Normalize women not becoming an extension of their husband (not that I would ever suggest this happened to you but I just think it happens too often) Again sorry for the rant, I just hate the way society views women as baby carriers and nothing else. WOMAN DESERVE HOBBIES! So never ever ever feel bad about taking time to write. My sibilings and I always encourage our mom to draw and express herself and wished she did it more.

well this was an interesting rant/post!

To be clear, and i know you weren’t saying this was true of me, but it should be said - I have never once viewed myself as an extension of my husband, so no worries there, lol. As for being a stay at home mom… I did go back to work nearly full time for a bit, and it was rough. We moved across the country so he could take a job so I could be home with Bebe. It was a choice we both agreed on. I personally love being home with him. This is a season of life; I’m basking in it.

I’ve never felt guilty for taking time to write. Granted, i do it almost exclusively when he’s asleep, but still.

I think some reframing can be helpful. I don’t view myself as an extension of anyone, but at this stage in his life, I sort of view my Bebe as an extension of me, if anything. He’s still so young that he needs me 24/7 (even when he playing independently, can’t take your eyes off these guys for a mo). And that’s fine. Bebes are only bebes once. I don’t know any parent who’s ever looked back and said, gosh I wish I would have spent less time being present with my kiddos when they were young!

I’m also not someone who would ever have to worry about ‘what to do with myself’ when my kid gets older. I have plenty of ‘hobbies’ and look forward to being able to pick things like glass up again. However. I would wager that any mom/parent etc that finds themself at a loss for what to do with their time later in life got that way because hobbies were a luxury they could not afford to have while doing all the child rearing and domestic labor and perhaps also working a job job. Yes, women - and everyone - deserve to have hobbies. But no one needs to be guilted for not being able to maintain them in a society as demanding as ours when you are simply trying to be a good parent and make ends meet. You say you ‘encouraged (I assume this was meant to be past tense, as in during your childhood as well) her to draw more.’ I might be making some unfair assumptions here, but maybe she could have if someone else was helping her? Encouragement does not do the dishes, clean the house, do the laundry, make the meals, get the groceries, take the kids from here to there, run the errands, blah, blah, blah, blah. I’m sorry but I really disliked the way that was worded! It implied that if was your moms fault for not keeping up with drawing, despite being ‘encouraged.’ I bet she wishes she could have done it more too, but I also bet that when she had to make the choice between ‘get shit done’ or ‘quality time with kids’ or ‘draw’, she chose option one or two most of the time.

as for me, I love drawing too, and I can’t WAIT until my kid can draw. Some of my fondest memories with my dad were when we had ‘drawing contests’ and would sit and draw the same thing together, sometimes for hours (strangely, I always ‘won’). My dad was no artist mind, but it was fun, and it’s where I started to learn to really look at things. I’m super excited to be able to teach my kid how to draw when he’s young. This Bebe is going to know how to cross hatch and shade with charcoal before kindergarten haha!

So I guess I’ve just responded to your rant with some ranting of my own! Sorry if I’m super off base with any of my comments. I think we should normalize letting moms - and all parents - make the choices they want to make that’s best for them and their family.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Bill Prutt for Slate:

On Jan. 8, 2004, just more than 20 years ago, the first episode of The Apprentice aired. It was called “Meet the Billionaire,” and 18 million people watched. The episodes that followed climbed to roughly 20 million each week. A staggering 28 million viewers tuned in to watch the first season finale. The series won an Emmy nomination for Outstanding Reality-Competition Program, and the Television Critics Association called it one of the best TV shows of the year, alongside The Sopranos and Arrested Development. The series—alongside its bawdy sibling, The Celebrity Apprentice—appeared on NBC in coveted prime-time slots for more than a decade. The Apprentice was an instant success in another way too. It elevated Donald J. Trump from sleazy New York tabloid hustler to respectable household name. In the show, he appeared to demonstrate impeccable business instincts and unparalleled wealth, even though his businesses had barely survived multiple bankruptcies and faced yet another when he was cast. By carefully misleading viewers about Trump—his wealth, his stature, his character, and his intent—the competition reality show set about an American fraud that would balloon beyond its creators’ wildest imaginations.

I should know. I was one of four producers involved in the first two seasons. During that time, I signed an expansive nondisclosure agreement that promised a fine of $5 million and even jail time if I were to ever divulge what actually happened. It expired this year. No one involved in The Apprentice—from the production company or the network, to the cast and crew—was involved in a con with malicious intent. It was a TV show, and it was made for entertainment. I still believe that. But we played fast and loose with the facts, particularly regarding Trump, and if you were one of the 28 million who tuned in, chances are you were conned. As Trump answers for another of his alleged deception schemes in New York and gears up to try to persuade Americans to elect him again, in part thanks to the myth we created, I can finally tell you what making Trump into what he is today looked like from my side. Most days were revealing. Some still haunt me, two decades later. [...]

Now, this is important. The Apprentice is a game show regulated by the Federal Communications Commission. In the 1950s, scandals arose when producers of quiz shows fed answers to likable, ratings-generating contestants while withholding those answers from unlikable but truly knowledgeable players. Any of us involved in The Apprentice swinging the outcome of prize money by telling Trump whom to fire is forbidden. [...]

Trump goes about knocking off every one of the contestants in the boardroom until only two remain. The finalists are Kwame Jackson, a Black broker from Goldman Sachs, and Bill Rancic, a white entrepreneur from Chicago who runs his own cigar business. Trump assigns them each a task devoted to one of his crown-jewel properties. Jackson will oversee a Jessica Simpson benefit concert at Trump Taj Mahal Casino in Atlantic City, while Rancic will oversee a celebrity golf tournament at Trump National Golf Club in Briarcliff Manor, New York. Viewers need to believe that whatever Trump touches turns to gold. These properties that bear his name are supposed to glitter and gleam. All thanks to him.

Reality is another matter altogether. The lights in the casino’s sign are out. Hong Kong investors actually own the place—Trump merely lends his name. The carpet stinks, and the surroundings for Simpson’s concert are ramshackle at best. We shoot around all that. Both Rancic and Jackson do a round-robin recruitment of former contestants, and Jackson makes the fateful decision to team up with the notorious Omarosa, among others, to help him carry out his final challenge. [...]

Trump will make his decision live on camera months later, so what we are about to film is the setup to that reveal. The race between Jackson and Rancic should seem close, and that’s how we’ll edit the footage. Since we don’t know who’ll be chosen, it must appear close, even if it’s not.

We lay out the virtues and deficiencies of each finalist to Trump in a fair and balanced way, but sensing the moment at hand, Kepcher sort of comes out of herself. She expresses how she observed Jackson at the casino overcoming more obstacles than Rancic, particularly with the way he managed the troublesome Omarosa. Jackson, Kepcher maintains, handled the calamity with grace. “I think Kwame would be a great addition to the organization,” Kepcher says to Trump, who winces while his head bobs around in reaction to what he is hearing and clearly resisting. “Why didn’t he just fire her?” Trump asks, referring to Omarosa. It’s a reasonable question. Given that this the first time we’ve ever been in this situation, none of this is something we expected. “That’s not his job,” Bienstock says to Trump. “That’s yours.” Trump’s head continues to bob. “I don’t think he knew he had the ability to do that,” Kepcher says. Trump winces again.

“Yeah,” he says to no one in particular, “but, I mean, would America buy a n— winning?” Kepcher’s pale skin goes bright red. I turn my gaze toward Trump. He continues to wince. He is serious, and he is adamant about not hiring Jackson. Bienstock does a half cough, half laugh, and swiftly changes the topic or throws to Ross for his assessment. What happens next I don’t entirely recall. I am still processing what I have just heard. We all are. Only Bienstock knows well enough to keep the train moving. None of us thinks to walk out the door and never return. I still wish I had. (Bienstock and Kepcher didn’t respond to requests for comment.) Afterward, we film the final meeting in the boardroom, where Jackson and Rancic are scrutinized by Trump, who, we already know, favors Rancic. Then we wrap production, pack up, and head home. There is no discussion about what Trump said in the boardroom, about how the damning evidence was caught on tape. Nothing happens.

We attend to our thesis that only the best and brightest deserve a job working for Donald Trump. Luckily, the winner, Bill Rancic, and his rival, Kwame Jackson, come off as capable and confident throughout the season. If for some reason they had not, we would have conveniently left their shortcomings on the cutting room floor. In actuality, both men did deserve to win. Without a doubt, the hardest decisions we faced in postproduction were how to edit together sequences involving Trump. We needed him to sound sharp, dignified, and clear on what he was looking for and not as if he was yelling at people. You see him today: When he reads from a teleprompter, he comes off as loud and stoic. Go to one of his rallies and he’s the off-the-cuff rambler rousing his followers into a frenzy. While filming, he struggled to convey even the most basic items. But as he became more comfortable with filming, Trump made raucous comments he found funny or amusing—some of them misogynistic as well as racist. We cut those comments. Go to one of his rallies today and you can hear many of them.

If you listen carefully, especially to that first episode, you will notice clearly altered dialogue from Trump in both the task delivery and the boardroom. Trump was overwhelmed with remembering the contestants’ names, the way they would ride the elevator back upstairs or down to the street, the mechanics of what he needed to convey. Bienstock instigated additional dialogue recording that came late in the edit phase. We set Trump up in the soundproof boardroom set and fed him lines he would read into a microphone with Bienstock on the phone, directing from L.A. And suddenly Trump knows the names of every one of the contestants and says them while the camera cuts to each of their faces. Wow, you think, how does he remember everyone’s name? While on location, he could barely put a sentence together regarding how a task would work. Listen now, and he speaks directly to what needs to happen while the camera conveniently cuts away to the contestants, who are listening and nodding. He sounds articulate and concise through some editing sleight of hand.

Then comes the note from NBC about the fact that after Trump delivers the task assignment to the contestants, he disappears from the episode after the first act and doesn’t show up again until the next-to-last. That’s too long for the (high-priced) star of the show to be absent. There is a convenient solution. At the top of the second act, right after the task has been assigned but right before the teams embark on their assignment, we insert a sequence with Trump, seated inside his gilded apartment, dispensing a carefully crafted bit of wisdom. He speaks to whatever the theme of each episode is—why someone gets fired or what would lead to a win. The net effect is not only that Trump appears once more in each episode but that he also now seems prophetic in how he just knows the way things will go right or wrong with each individual task. He comes off as all-seeing and all-knowing. We are led to believe that Donald Trump is a natural-born leader.

Through the editorial nudge we provide him, Trump prevails. So much so that NBC asks for more time in the boardroom to appear at the end of all the remaining episodes. (NBC declined to comment for this article.) [... So, we scammed. We swindled. Nobody heard the racist and misogynistic comments or saw the alleged cheating, the bluffing, or his hair taking off in the wind. Those tapes, I’ve come to believe, will never be found.

No one lost their retirement fund or fell on hard times from watching The Apprentice. But Trump rose in stature to the point where he could finally eye a run for the White House, something he had intended to do all the way back in 1998. Along the way, he could now feed his appetite for defrauding the public with various shady practices. In 2005 thousands of students enrolled in what was called Trump University, hoping to gain insight from the Donald and his “handpicked” professors. Each paid as much as $35,000 to listen to some huckster trade on Trump’s name. In a sworn affidavit, salesman Ronald Schnackenberg testified that Trump University was “fraudulent.” The scam swiftly went from online videoconferencing courses to live events held by high-pressure sales professionals whose only job was to persuade attendees to sign up for the course. The sales were for the course “tuition” and had nothing whatsoever to do with real estate investments. A class action suit was filed against Trump.

That same year, Trump was caught bragging to Access Hollywood co-host Billy Bush that he likes to grab married women “by the pussy,” adding, “When you’re a star, they let you do it.” He later tried to recruit porn actor Stormy Daniels for The Apprentice despite her profession and, according to Daniels, had sex with her right after his last son was born. (His alleged attempt to pay off Daniels is, of course, the subject of his recent trial.) In October 2016—a month before the election—the Access Hollywood tapes were released and written off as “locker room banter.” Trump paid Daniels to keep silent about their alleged affair. He paid $25 million to settle the Trump University lawsuit and make it go away. He went on to become the first elected president to possess neither public service nor military experience. And although he lost the popular vote, Trump beat out Hillary Clinton in the Electoral College, winning in the Rust Belt by just 80,000 votes.

Trump has been called the “reality TV president,” and not just because of The Apprentice. The Situation Room, where top advisers gathered, became a place for photo-ops, a bigger, better boardroom. Trump swaggered and cajoled, just as he had on the show. Whom would he listen to? Whom would he fire? Stay tuned. Trump even has his own spinoff, called the House of Representatives, where women hurl racist taunts and body-shame one another with impunity. The State of the Union is basically a cage fight. The demands of public office now include blowhard buffoonery.

Bill Pruitt wrote in Slate that Donald Trump used the N-word on the set of NBC's The Apprentice in 2004 when referring to a Black contestant (Kwame Jackson)'s chances of winning the competition by saying "would America buy a n***er winning?"

This is yet another example of Trump's long record of anti-Black racism that dates back to the 1970s.

[sirfrogsworth]

Whenever I come across opinions like these I am genuinely curious if we are watching the same shows.

And people have such a boner for Andor. It's a good show, but I was definitely more entertained by The Mandalorian and I thought Ahsoka had a lot more heart. Every character on Ahsoka I wanted to spend more time with.

I don't actually like Andor. Like... as a person. And I will sometimes have a hard time enjoying shows when the protagonist isn't very likeable. Breaking Bad, The Sopranos, etc. But I did really like the story and the worldbuilding of Andor. Though the first few episodes felt like a huge slog to get through. It won me over and I loved seeing a different kind of Star Wars show. But I definitely don't want every Star Wars show to be like Andor. And I think maybe people need to realize not everything is made for their specific tastes. Even within the same shared universe.

This is just a shit opinion. He didn't like the show. That's fine. But then he shames the people who did enjoy it. And everything he says there wasn't, there absolutely was.

Another issue might be that Ahsoka isn't as accessible without watching Clone Wars and Rebels. A lot of the character development is an extension of those shows.

Ahsoka reminded me a lot of old man Obi-Wan. Even her lightsaber style. She went from a fury of acrobatics to every stroke having deadly intention. Not a single wasted movement. When Obi-Wan defeated Maul in the desert, that was one of my favorite duels in all of Star Wars. And it lasted all of a few seconds. And if you watch Ahsoka, she fights very much like that now.

Believe it or not, that is character development.

I don't know. I like seeing different opinions regarding the media I enjoy. Even if it is negative. But when it goes from "I don't like this" to "no one should like this" it rustles my jimmies.

[woozapooza]

Sopranos ramble incoming (and the following is all just my opinion and I'm not trying to say my perspective on the show is the objective one or whatever, just so we're clear):

The idea that Krakower is the best therapist on the show (no he isn't) and the idea that Richard and Elliot were right about Tony (no they weren't) and Melfi should have listened to them (no she shouldn't) frustrate me for basically the same reason. And I’m not just talking about me being such a die-hard Melfi stan. Both ideas attempt to cut through the ethical mire in which all the Sopranos characters (just like real people) exist, but…you can’t do that. Or rather, cutting through the mire doesn’t make it go away. Yes, Tony is a horrible person. True! But now what? What does that judgment actually do? It’s easy to look at a bunch of (mostly) unrepentant criminals and (correctly) observe that they’re bad people. It’s much harder to try to understand the forces that shape their behavior and consider what can be done about those forces. The former lets you feel good, but only by doing the latter do you have a shot at effecting any sort of change.

And you know what, I said this wasn’t just about me being a die-hard Melfi stan, but what I’m talking about here is inextricable from my love of Melfi, because one of my favorite things about her, as I said in the Krakower post, is that she’s willing to get her hands dirty if that’s what it takes to do her job, which is to help people. I'm not saying that she has zero selfish motives (she's only human), but I also think it's clear she truly cares about and believes in her work. Given a choice between the potential to make a difference and the preservation of her own moral purity, she chooses the former, and paradoxically, I see that as the more moral choice.* You can certainly disagree with her choices, but when viewers just dismiss her as unethical simply for associating with Tony, I feel like they're trying to sidestep the genuine ethical complexity that she herself refuses to sidestep. I love her btw, in case I haven’t mentioned that a billion times already <3

To be clear, I’m not trying to equate Krakower, Richard, and Elliot. As misguided as I find Krakower, he doesn’t deserve that insult, lol. I’m really talking more about the viewers than the characters here. I think both these takes try to sidestep one of the things that makes The Sopranos so complex and so great: its depiction of the reasons people do bad things. Very little of the characters’ bad behavior is driven by pure sadism; rather, it’s shaped by the context in which they exist (which doesn’t absolve them of anything, don’t get me wrong). Just like real people! You could say there are two ways to watch this show (or any morally complex show): you could take the Krakower/Richard/Elliot route, where you basically just judge the characters, or the Melfi route, where you try to understand and engage with the characters in all their ugliness. It’s just a TV show, so it really doesn’t matter, but personally, I’d rather take the Melfi route. Because it leads to a richer experience, I mean. I don’t just mean because I’m down so bad for her. Though that’s part of it. I am down SO bad for her, you guys.

*Granted, this has a lot to do with my interpretation of Tony himself. As I said in the Richard-and-Elliot post, I'm 100% of the opinion that Tony (like most people) does have the capacity to change, but obviously any claim about the psychology of a fictional character ultimately comes down to interpretation ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[zalrb]

The fact that Chase won’t admit to Tony’s death kinda pisses me off tho. Idk if it’s bc James gandolfini died but I always thought it was obvious Tony gets killed in the diner…

Oh, he did admit it.

Because the scene I had in my mind was not that scene. Nor did I think of cutting to black. I had a scene in which Tony comes back from a meeting in New York in his car. At the beginning of every show, he came from New York into New Jersey, and the last scene could be him coming from New Jersey back into New York for a meeting at which he was going to be killed.

And when did the alternative ending first occur to you? I’ve spoken with showrunners who said, “I knew at the beginning exactly how my show was going to end.” Or by season three or whatever. It sounds like when you were writing, you liked to stay six scripts ahead of where you were in the action.

Yeah. But I think I had this notion — I was driving on Ocean Park Boulevard near the airport and I saw a little restaurant. It was kind of like a shack that served breakfast. And for some reason I thought, “Tony should get it in a place like that.” Why? I don’t know. That was, like, two years before.

What did you make of the reaction to the finale? The whole episode was great, but people sort of fixated on …

Yeah, nobody said anything about the episode. No, it was all about the ending.

And was that annoying?

I had no idea it would cause that much — I mean, I forget what was going on in Iraq or someplace; London had been bombed! Nobody was talking about that; they were talking about The Sopranos. It was kind of incredible to me. But I had no idea it would be that much of an uproar. And was it annoying? What was annoying was how many people wanted to see Tony killed. That bothered me.

They wanted to see it. They wanted confirmation.

They wanted to know that Tony was killed. They wanted to see him go face-down in linguini, you know? And I just thought, “God, you watched this guy for seven years and I know he’s a criminal. But don’t tell me you don’t love him in some way, don’t tell me you’re not on his side in some way. And now you want to see him killed? You want justice done? You’re a criminal after watching this shit for seven years.” That bothered me, yeah.

[strideofpride]

anything you’ve been watching/reading lately that you’d recommend? i think you have stellar taste in media (aka it often matches mine lol) so am curious! hope you feel better soon 💖

Ummmm yes, love this ask!!! (Also I’m so flattered 🥰 you have great taste as well btw)

Books:

Mo Ryan’s Burn It Down! If you’re at all interested in the entertainment industry and how it all gets made, this is basically required reading

the Succession script books (pricey but personally worth it)

I just finished Jill Gutowitz’s Girls Can Kiss Now and felt very seen, a wee bit too relatable

And I’m currently also reading Ann Patchett’s This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, which is a great book for my fellow writers to read

Substack:

I’m a paid subscriber to Hunter Harris’ Hung Up newsletter and I’ve never once regretted it lol

Gotta shout out Dracula Daily as well as the one podcast I listen to rn, re: Dracula (I listen and read at the same time which is perfect for me lol)

Gilmore Women - a Gilmore Girls recap newsletter that talks about everything wrong with each episode lol. I sped through the first six seasons and now I’m depressed that I’m caught up lol

TV:

Minx s2 - it is on Starz which I know most people don’t have but this season has been EXCELLENT

Only Murders in the Building s3 - it’s like a comfort show for me at this point, despite being about murder it makes me feel so cozy. Nora Ephron vibes

The Bear s2 - everyone’s been talking about it already but I just finished and god it was GOOD

The Sopranos - everyone should be doing # Sopranos Sunday with me!!! It’s so fun!! This show is soooo good, really living up to the hype for me

Acapulco - really cute show, makes me wish I was still on vacation in Mexico

Poker Face - bring back standalone episodes like this!!! Bring back character actors doing incredible guest star roles!!!

The Other Two - just. It was the funniest show on TV. It really was. 30 Rock’s spiritual successor which is pretty much the highest praise I can give it

Movies:

Red Eye - I rewatched it after Oppenheimer and it really holds up. Fun, tight thriller that is only like an hour 20 lol. Also Brian Cox aka Logan Roy is in it (and Jayma Mays my beloved)

Theater Camp - as a Jewish theater kid who went to and/or worked at a summer camp every year of her life from ages 4-20, there was no way I wasn’t gonna like this

Mamma Mia series - obviously everyone on tumblr knows about these already but I made my family watch them with me for the Fourth of July and god if I could live in the world of any movie it’d be this one ❤️

Man Up - very cute & fun British rom com I first discovered in college and rewatched this summer. Everyone has incredible comedic chemistry in this, and Lake Bell & Simon Pegg have great sexual chemistry as well (quite a lot of British faces who were nobodies when this was made who’ve gone on to bigger things - most notably Phoebe Waller-Bridge who’s only in a single scene)

X-Men: First Class - my favorite superhero movie ❤️

Indiana Jones series - I rewatched the whole series and saw the new one in theaters this summer. The first and third are literal masterpieces. Second one is mean spirited and racist. Fourth actually has quite a bit of charm, but then it fell apart in the back half. The new one…woof. Nobody but Steven Spielberg should be allowed to direct Indy movies.

Asteroid City - the longer it’s been since I saw it, the more and more I think it might be Wes’ masterpiece

Past Lives - incredible. But I know you already know that one lol

Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret - perfect, perfect film.

The Other Guys - we need Adam McKay and Will Ferrell to get back together, the fate of studio comedies hangs on this (anyway this movie is hilarious - but also if hell is real Marky Mark is obviously gonna burn for all eternity)

Comedy:

John Mulaney: Baby J - I saw him do this special live when he was touring it and I’m mad he cut the FBI bit but he’s still got it

[jensenscomedyelbows]

Oversharing on the Internet

Thanks for the tag, Riz @lastcallatrockysbar 😃 This is so old I bet you forgot you sent it to me! But I like to SURPRISE people when they least expect it!

ONE: Are you named after anyone?

My middle name is my grandmother’s first name, and I gave it to my daughter for hers too 😊

TWO: When was the last time you cried?

Well, I haven’t today yet, so I guess…yesterday? I’m a crier! I cry at stupid stuff e v e r y day!

THREE: Do you have kids?

One.

FOUR: Do you use sarcasm a lot?

You know, I definitely used to, BUT…my kid’s an adult now, and I realize I’ve rubbed off on her in the worst way, because she is literally so sarcastic that I often don’t know how to take what she says, and now I haaaaaaate it. I mean, be who you are, but you might be annoying. I was annoyingly, heavily sarcastic for the majority of my life! #oldpeoplerealizations

FIVE:

What sports sports do you play/have you played?

Lol.

SIX: What’s the first thing you notice about people?

The very first thing? If they’re smiling or not. Like, I notice the FACE. I usually know pretty fast whether or not we can vibe based on your face the first time I meet you. Also: there are very few faces I can’t vibe with 😌

SEVEN: What’s your eye color?

Blue

EIGHT: Scary movies or happy endings?

Scary movie with ultimately, a happy ending. Give me all the feels! Dark ones especially! Terrify me, break my heart! Freak me out! But do it all then have it all work out in the end for all the characters. 🌈

NINE: Any special talents?

Absolutely not.

TEN: Where were you born?

Waco, Texas

ELEVEN: What are your hobbies?

Reading, music, Supernatural in general, Dean in specific, my grandkids, Barbies, Transformers, Hot Wheels 😂 and ooh, I love television in general. I’m rewatching both The Sopranos for the first time since watching live waaaay back in the day, Atlanta all the way through for the first time since it aired live, and Battlestar Galactica with like three YouTube reactors for like the 8th? time? Undetermined. Anyway, yes I love TV and have seen just about everything, including Reality TV. It’s been like…17 years! I’m a Survivor superfan! You’d be shocked and appalled at my massive knowledge of Bravo TV show trivia. Also I know Supernatural like the back of my hand, which should go without saying. I’ve probably seen it 10000000X 🩷

TWELVE: Any pets?

I WISH.

THIRTEEN: How tall are you?

Six feet.

FOURTEEN: Favorite subject in school?

English.

FIFTEEN: Dream job

Had it, won’t bore you with the details, but I loved what I did and I was VERY good at it, and the possibilities I’ll never know because of MS. #justfacts

I’m not tagging anybody, but I apologize if you inadvertently had to read this. Here are some flowers 🌸🌺🌼🪻🪷🌻🌹🌷

[astriwilt]

So I’m rewatching The Sopranos for the third time and omg Caitlin deserved so much better. She was struggling with bad mental health issues and everyone treated her like shit.

ESPECIALLY FUCKING NOAH. MAN’S FATHER GOT A RESTRAINING ORDER AGAINST CAITLIN BECAUSE NOAH GOT A C AND NOAH THINKS THAT WAS A REASONABLE COURSE OF ACTION. NOAH YOU COULD HAVE TOLD HER TO LEAVE.

Now I can’t talk about Noah without mentioning Tony’s racism. Tony is a racist piece of shit and judged Noah based on his race instead of his character. That part has been analyzed to death though and everyone knows Tony is a raging racist asshole. What I wanna talk about is Noah’s character; which is what he should be judged on and not the color of his skin.

NOAH FUCKING SUCKS.

But in all seriousness; besides showing the audience how deep rooted Tony’s racism is….I think Noah served another purpose. To show the audience half assed “love and understanding” if that makes sense. I’ll explain it better: the first scene we see after Noah and Caitlin are in the same room; Noah is alone with Meadow and is talking to her about how they should just be patient with Caitlin. She’s far away from home and has obvious mental health problems. Meadow even comments about how caring and understanding Noah is and how “most guys wouldn’t even give a shit”. Then later Caitlin comes to talk to Noah while he’s studying. Noah lets her in; and then Caitlin talks so much that Noah can’t concentrate and gets a C on his assignment. Does Noah have the right to be mad? Yes. But should he also understand that Caitlin is literally mentally ill and that he was the one who let her in? Yes. Instead of being bitter about it for a bit he decides that his father’s restraining order is an appropriate response and bashes Caitlin for always intruding on him and Meadow. So kids, what does this say about Noah? It says he only cares when it’s convenient. He only cares until he sees how bad mental illness can be. Meadow has this problem as well; she was an absolute bitch to Caitlin at times…but at least with Meadow there was still some real concern there instead of virtue signaling. Noah’s character is a great example of how people treat mental illness. They’re all for supporting people going through it until they truly see the ugly side of it…..the illness part. If you’ve watched The Sopranos and seen how Noah acts then you know DAMN WELL this guy would say something like “We should do everything we can to help people struggling with mental illness 😢” if he was asked about the topic. But as soon as it affects him in the slightest way it’s a different story.

So is it unreasonable for me to write a whole essay about a guy who was kind of an asshole in a show about murderers and gang members? Yes, it absolutely is. But also people tend to be pissed off easier by a fictional character they’re more likely to meet in real life than ones they aren’t. I’ve met a lot of Noahs but I haven’t met many mafia members LMAO. Also for all the theatric anger in this post….the point of this post was to applaud The Sopranos here. Like I said before it’s an amazingly accurate representation of how people are mental health allies until they actually see how mental illness works. It was just so beautifully accurate and beautifully portrayed. So with that all being said:

[maaarine]

In regards to the BBC List: I wanted to know which shows you think should be on the list that aren’t already there. Also, if you would get rid of certain shows.

(The 100 greatest TV series of the 21st Century)

two shows that immediately jump out to me are #47 Grey's Anatomy and #56 The Big Bang Theory, sorry but both are garbage

very uncool of me to say but I think #2 Mad Men is incredibly overrated, it bores me to tears

amusing that The Sopranos isn't on the list at all, but I'm not mad about it, it's vastly overrated by straight men

90s staples that aren't on the list because people have soured on them for valid reasons, but I'd still add them anyway: Friends, The Simpsons, Sex and the City

...like honestly the fact that #56 The Big Bang Theory and #86 How I Met Your Mother make the list but not Friends? come on now, they're not better shows

for me the ones that are very obviously missing are:

ER (1994-2009): groundbreaking television at the time, has aged so much better than most 90s hits, one of my all-time favorite shows, love it to death

My Brilliant Friend (L'Amica Geniale, 2018-current): masterpiece for tasteful girlies, I'm begging everyone to watch it mamma mia

I'm sure a few more British shows should be added, the ones that come to mind are:

Queer As Folk (1999-2000): another one of my all-time faves, also groundbreaking, I've rewatched it many times

The Hour (2011-2012): I don't understand why you'd have #75 Babylon Berlin but not The Hour on the list, similar vibe but better

Black Books (2000-2004): #20 The Thick Of It is the superior comedy, but I'd take Black Books over #9 The Office and #42 Peep Show any day

The Last Kingdom (2015-2022): this show is a mystery to me because it's legit great, and it got 5 seasons and a movie, but it's like it doesn't exist in anyone's mind?

I was happy to see my Scandinavian blorbos on the list (#40 Borgen and #34 The Bridge), and I'd add another one:

Skam (2015-2017): maybe unexpected from me since I'm an old hag, but I think it's as good as it gets for a teen show

[lookingupatthesamemoon]

janAUary #2 - fake dating

pairing: Beatrix x Ralph Cifaretto

summary: Beatrix has been told time and time again to never give Ralph the time of day. Of course, she thinks it’s funnier not to listen.

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: this is essentially somewhat of a reimagining of part of a fic i wrote this summer. it takes place near the end of sopranos season 3. Mack, Tony’s gf in this fic, is the s/i of a friend of mine :) banner is from @saradika

“Let me think about that and I’ll get back to you,” Beatrix said smugly. “Now, are you gonna order something or are you just gonna pester me all night?”

“Oh! Is that what you think of me? I’m a pest?” Ralph teased. “Why don’t you pour me a martini? Extra olives, and I mean extra!”

“A martini?” She asked, stifling a laugh. “That’s kind of a girly drink, no?”

Shockingly, rather than getting mad, he just cracked a joke back. “Hey, I prefer to call it metrosexual. Goes with my whole look, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does,” Beatrix replied. “Is this enough olives?” She asked, sliding the drink over to him. 

“Hit me with a few more.”

She obliged, plopping another two, three, four olives into his drink before he was satisfied. Eight olives? Maybe he was a mad man after all. She watched him curiously as he stuck one with the toothpick, grabbing it in his teeth and sucking it into his mouth. She almost shivered - she hated olives.

Bea’s thoughts were interrupted by the bar’s phone ringing. She held a finger up at Ralphie as she went to pick it up, answering as pleasantly as possible. Upon picking it up, she heard Mackenzie on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Beatrix! Got a sec?” Mackenzie asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah, Mack, what’s up?”

“Well, I was just talking with Tony about this dinner thing we were setting up, and we wanted to invite you,” Mackenzie explained. “I don’t know how busy you are, but it’s Friday night if you wanted to come. I figured it would be nice to catch up some more, you know?”

“Yeah, definitely! Who’s gonna be there?” Beatrix inquired, already putting the pieces together.

“Well, me and Tony will be there, obviously, and then, um, Paulie and Ralph and whatever girls they bring. Oh, and Silvio, but I don’t think you’ve met him yet.”

“Okay, yeah… I’ll be there, Mack, count me in,” she smiled.

“Yay! Okay, so, we’ll be at Nuovo Vesuvio at eight on Friday - you know how to get there, right?”

“Yeah, I know where it is. Okay, I’ll see you, Mack.”

As she hung up the phone, she turned back around to face Ralph, who had very clearly been eavesdropping on her conversation.

“Was that Mackenzie?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she was inviting me to the same dinner you just tried to.”

“Decisions, decisions, huh?”

“Well… I’m thinking we could kind of play around with everybody, you know?” Beatrix suggested, grinning deviously. “Look… I’ll just say, I’ve been  advised against going out with you.”

“Oh, so they’ve been plotting against me here since I walked in the door, huh?” He chuckled.

“Exactly,” Beatrix nodded. “They know you’re coming with a date, they just don’t know who. So, I’m thinking… we should go together. It’ll freak ‘em out, you know? We’ll make sure to be the last two there, make an entrance, rub it in their faces a little? Let ‘em know they were wrong?”

“You know, I gotta say, Trixie… I like it,” Ralphie responded, taking a sip of his olive-overloaded martini. “Someone’s gotta remind ‘em that when you assume, you make an ass outta you and me, huh?”

“I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when we walk in together,” Beatrix laughed. “I don’t know why they’ve been making you out to be, I don’t know, a monster, or something. You’re more like a puppy dog I could keep in my purse. A feisty one, though.”

Ralph chuckled, taking another sip of his drink. He knew, perhaps, by the standards of other people, he was a monster. But what Beatrix didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, right? He watched her as she scrubbed at the back counter, popping another olive into his mouth. She wouldn’t go out with him for money, but she would go out with him out of spite? “So, we callin’ this a date, or what?”

“I don’t know that I would call it that,” Beatrix scoffed, a small smile gracing her face. “But, if you wanna call it that, go ahead. I’ll wear something nice, you’ll get to live out your little fantasy… It’ll be fun.”

And so, as Friday night rolled around, Beatrix found herself waiting around outside the Crazy Horse on her night off for Ralph Cifaretto to pick her up and take her to dinner. She had dressed up a bit - not for Ralph, of course, but to help with her commitment to the bit. She sighed, feeling the straps of her silky red dress sagging off her shoulders within the sleeves of her jacket. She opted out of wearing tights, but as the winter wind nipped at her calves, she began to regret her decision. In fact, maybe this whole night was a stupid idea. Before she could make up her mind about bailing, though, Ralph’s car finally pulled up. She watched him as he swiftly got out of the car, coming over to greet her. As she took a step towards him, she stumbled, her feet still not used to the heels she was wearing.

“Fallin’ for me, huh?” He chuckled, offering an arm to keep her stable. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Beatrix smiled. “You’re not bad yourself.”

“So, what’s our plan here?” He asked, his hands on her waist, their faces dangerously close.

“Why don’t you get me in your car first and we’ll go from there.” She smiled as she lowered herself into the passenger seat, to which he had so kindly opened the door for her. There was a certain air of giddiness between them both in the car, almost like they were teenagers about to score. Ralph clearly wanted to put the work in, as if things would become real if he tried hard enough. As much as Beatrix didn’t want to admit it to herself, it might have worked if he played his cards right. 

“We should park further back,” Beatrix insisted as they approached the restaurant. Ralph looked over at her quizzically, relatively used to having prime parking at Vesuvio’s. “Well, we gotta keep an eye out for everyone else’s cars right?”

“Yeah, yeah, but then we got a longer walk… Whattya want us to be late?” Ralph whined.

“Fashionably,” she smirked. “Come on, Ralphie,” she pouted.

“Alright, alright,” Ralph sighed, pulling into a spot in the back half of the lot. “See how easy I fold for you?”

“Oh, please… So, what’s our excuse gonna be for getting in late?”

“… We could tell ‘em we were fuckin’”

“Yeah, right,” Beatrix laughed. “As if they’d believe I’d let you touch me.”

“Whatever… You know, I could get just about any girl in Jersey, but it’s you I’m after - doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Ralph… I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, between Rosalie and your reputation… I can’t get involved. Besides, is it really that good to get all your girls with money? Don’t you want something better than that?”

“Sure, but, it ain’t that easy… I guess I’ve never exactly been the most lovable guy.”

Beatrix looked over at him, face full of pity. She put her hand on his knee as a sign of support, gently rubbing it with her fingers. By now, she was starting to care a little less about blurring the lines. Besides, she was about to play the role of his girlfriend for the evening - maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to start getting into character early.

“Come on, we don’t have to have this conversation,” he sighed. “I just saw Paulie go inside, we should probably follow suit, huh?”

“Yeah, let’s go. Let’s show them what they’re all afraid of. When we walk in there, I’m your girlfriend.”

He got out of the car, grinning slightly as he made his way over to the passenger side to help Beatrix out as quickly as he could. She couldn’t help but crack a smile, genuine this time, watching him get all nervous. She took his hand graciously, pretending for a moment that this really was serious as Ralph pulled at her. They walked briskly as they entered the restaurant, Ralph leading the way to he and his friends’ usual table, never dropping Beatrix’s hand. As the table came into his sight, he moved his arm to her waist, leaning down very briefly to whisper a “follow my lead” into her ear.

In the distance, Tony and Mackenzie immediately recognized Ralph as he weaved between other patrons. “Christ, here he comes, finally,” Tony muttered, rolling his eyes. 

“I think I see Beatrix, too, coming behind him,” Mackenzie remarked. “Thank God she finally made it, I was starting to worry.”

It was only as Ralph and Beatrix approached the table, laughing together about God knows what, their hands already all over each other, that Mack and Tony began to put the pieces together. 

“Ton’, everybody, I am so sorry we’re late,” Ralph sighed as he arrived at his seat. “This one’s just insatiable! We completely lost track of the time playin’ tonsil tennis,” he snickered.

Beatrix smacked him playfully in the chest in response, her cheeks turning a slight pink at the thought. As if. As the two of them took their seats next to each other, Mackenzie and Tony just stared, almost dumbfounded. Two empty chairs remained: one to the left of Beatrix, and one to the right of Ralph. Mack couldn’t believe what she was seeing - Beatrix and Ralph? Did his ridiculous attempts at wooing her actually work? How did that happen? Her jaw was resisting the urge to drop. Tony was sporting his classic unimpressed expression - this is exactly what he had hoped wouldn’t happen. 

“That’s a waste of two chairs!” Paulie commented, shaking his head.

“We would’ve told you ahead of time, but uh, we didn’t wanna ruin the surprise,” Ralph said, glancing over at Beatrix. She offered him a hand to hold once more, displaying their “love” for the others at the table. Mack almost gagged seeing it. She couldn’t stand Ralph - but she couldn’t tell Beatrix why.

Throughout the night, there was clear tension at the table, but Beatrix and Ralph were so caught up in playing pretend that it just rolled off their backs. It was what they wanted, to freak the others out. Once they had some wine down their gullets, it almost felt like they weren’t pretending anymore. Beatrix found herself hanging all over Ralph later into the night, playing the part so perfectly that she almost forgot it was supposed to be a one time thing. As much of a pest as Ralph could be, and whatever bad history he had, she couldn’t deny that she was enjoying his company.

Not too long after the dessert round, the group decided to call it a night. The meal was through, and the tension between Tony and Ralph was becoming hard to simply ignore. Sometimes, as Beatrix was starting to put together, the DiMeo crime family had to be handled like a clique of high school girls - let whatever petty drama was happening play out, and within a matter of days, they’re having sleepovers and wearing matching outfits again. They would probably cool down by morning. As everyone was walking outside, saying their goodbyes to each other with hugs and handshakes, Tony pulled Beatrix aside.

“Hey, Beatrix,” he started. “Look, I know you don’t know me too well, but, uh, and any friend of Mackenzie’s is good in my book. I just, uh, I wanted to let you know… If you would rather, you know, not ride home with Ralphie, for whatever reason, Mackenzie and I can-“

Before he could finish his offer, Ralph strolled back over, slinging his arm around Beatrix’s waist. She smirked, turning to kiss him, perhaps a little too passionately for a fake date. He looked at her in shock, his expression quickly turning smug as he remembered Tony’s presence. “Whattya say, toots, you ready to go?” He asked.

Beatrix simply nodded, giving a short wave to Tony and Mack as she and Ralph began to head back to his car. His arm remained around her waist far after they had left everyone’s view. The cold air had sobered him up enough to drive, but as he helped Beatrix into the passenger seat, he decided maybe they should just sit for a minute.

“That was nice,” Beatrix smiled. “Maybe I should give you a serious try.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Call me next week, maybe we can go for round two.”

[ourpickwickclub]

Have you heard the song “The Painter” by Cody Johnson? That would have been perfect song for Blake! He has picked so many bad songs in the last few years - I wonder if he is picking them or his team. He really needs to do more variety also. He has only done these dumb songs (MW etc) or love songs. He needs to do some sad breakup songs - people really relate to them - but he doesn’t seem to want to and man would that start alot of rumors!! I think it’s hard since him/Gwen are so widely known as a couple - its hard for people to make the love songs relatable because they know who it’s about (usually spouses are not as well known and visible so I think it’s easier for people to apply those songs to their own life! Just me). Anyway, he could at least do some sort of breakup song like the John legend song with Meghan trainor - “like I’m gonna lose you” where they are just imagining life if they lost each other - something like that might be a good sad song! We need some variety and some much better songs! It’s so frustrating to watch other have some really good songs and then Blake puts out a dumb one! Ugh!

Kenny’s Here and Now was one i thought Blake should have done also.

I do think there is a market for love songs. Or even tapping into insecurities as a partner or stepparent. I think with Blake the biggest issue is his whole heart is not in putting out music right now. He’s happy. He wants to live his life with his family and relax.

I think Gwen has those artistic urges. She gets them out in planting flowers and arranging them, her make up line, etc, but she is an artist to the core. She needs to create and be creative. Needs it!

I don’t wanna step on anybody’s toes about Blake, because I admittedly have only been even aware of him since 2014.. but i do think i have spent a lot of time listening to his discography and reading about him, watching old Voice montages, clash of the choirs etc…. But it seems to me that Blake, although 100% capable of writing some of my favorite country music I’ve ever heard, prefers to be a cultivator. He likes bringing it all together. His amazing voice on that song, on that album. Linda Ronstadt was like that. She didn’t write songs, but she was so talented at brining it all together with her crystal clear soprano and her interpretation.

My feeling is that Blake has been phoning it in unless it’s something he’s doing with Gwen. Her artistry and excitement seems to get him going. I think an acoustic or missed hits albums could be fun for him, but new music would have to be something that shook him now. GC did.

But that’s just my take.

- B

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

I think i remember a post where you mentioned sooga liking opera but kohga never taking him to see it. How about kohga finally getting tickets for them both? Possibly having sooga get invested in it and kohga being bored but still watching to make his bf happy?

I do NOT remember saying that, but then again I haven't written them in almost a year ish, soooo you're probably right! Let's do it!

"Sooga, get in here!"

Sooga stepped into his masters quarter's the second he was requested. Of course he did, fucking obedient idiot. He bowed upon entering, shutting the door behind him.

"You summoned me, Master Kohga?"

"Yes. Here, and don't say I don't do shit for you."

Kohga sighed as he handed him the small envelope. Sooga looked it over in his hands, before opening it. He inspected it closely, before looking up at Kohga in clear disbelief.

"Master Kohga? Is this for me? Honestly?"

"US, dumbass. Unfortunately I'm going with you."

Sooga was trying to keep his composure, clearly trying not to act out of line.

"You. Me. Is. Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, but is this a date? Are you asking me on a DATE? To the OPERA?"

Ugh, he was disgustingly excited. He rolled his eyes, and held a finger up for him to pay attention. Like a dog, he was trained to know what his hand signals meant.

"Yes, I'm asking you on a date. BUT, we're gonna dress the part. APPARENTLY you can't do yiga attire in the opera. So we're gonna have to be in stupid monkey suits, and the mask I had to fight tooth and nail to keep. And god, you look like you're going to fucking explode."

Sooga was statue still, but when you've been inside a man, you can kinda figure out what he's thinking, regardless of what's happening. He gave a careful nod.

"I'm just. VERY excited, Master Kohga. May I please go get ready?"

"Yeah yeah. Take forever, maybe we'll miss it-"

Sooga bounced out of here quicker than a banana thief. God, if he bailed on him, he'd be crushed. Though he was debating how worth his glee was, later when he was stuck in that fucking seat. He was forced into a monkey suit alongside Sooga, which wasn't THAT bad. He knew he looked good, and Sooga DEFINITELY knew how to clean himself up. God, every shirt he owned fit snug on this man, he loved it. And so did the other gerudo women, sneaking glances at him.

Now he couldn't blame them, Sooga was a babe who rode like an absolute dream, but he was noticing. And he'd be damned if these tickets be wasted on this bullshit (Urbosa gave him these, so they were free, but still). He nudged his partner.

"Sooga, I'm not gonna lie, I've never done this crap. Tell me about it!"

That seemed to cheer him up immediately. He did find comfort in being commanded to do something.

"Oh, well Cil knows more than I do, as well as our resident treasurer, but I'm fairly well first. I know the first opening act has a female lead, so chances are we'll hear either soprano, alto, or one that Maz Koshia finds rather funny due to his namesake, 'Mezzo Suprano'..."

Kohga was semi paying attention. Listen, he hated that someone paid for him to watch a woman. He was gay, if he was gonna watch a woman, she could at least be jerking a guy off. Her just singing sounded like hell on earth. But you should see Sooga right now. When you got him going on something he liked, like yours truly or fishing, you just couldn't shut him the fuck up. Kohga would never admit it, but he loved it. So, it was worth it.

Having said that, he needed something to think about or he wasn't gonna survive this boring ass event.

"Hey Sooga, you wanna get dinner after this?"

"I mean, Master Kohga, this is already a treat, I can't be selfish and ask anymore of you!"

"Sooga, baby,"

He reached over to grab his tie, and bring his masked face closer to his. God, he could fuck him, ruin him, give these people a real show.

"You're gonna get treated the FUCK out of tonight~"

"Then, may I make a request?"

Yeah he was gonna ride that fucking dick in this stadium, fuck consequences.

"Mhmm~"

"Can we get clam chowder? In those bread bowls?"

This guy and his fucking fish, he was gonna kill him. He tried not to yell at him, ask him why FISH. Why did he ALWAYS WANT IT. But he sighed, nodding.

"Yes, we can get bread bowls."

"And then we can get you dessert? A few?"

Stuffing kink ass. He chuckled, gently tapping the spot of the mask that was covering his lips.

"Stuff me how you want, big guy, I'm all yours for the night ~"

He was about to get a kiss, to stave him off until after, when Sooga suddenly lurched foreword in excitement, making Kohga fall right behind him in their seats. At least he could get a good view of his back from here.

"Shh! It's starting!"

This was gonna be a long fucking night. But, again, worth it.

[readingcauldron]

I'm currently reading Against Interpretations and Other Essays by Susan Sontag and today I read her critique of Notes and Counter Notes: Writings on the Theatre by Eugene Ionesco.

it was kind of ideal timing to read this because I've been thinking a lot about how when language becomes a habit it almost becomes meaningless--especially in terms of the sentence formulas people our age constantly use. things that started out as a funny tweet and then became a twitter trend and then incorporated themselves into our daily vocabulary--like "silly little treat" becoming "silly little (insert anything here)". the words "silly little" used to imply a lot but now they don't mean anything.  or hollywood coopting "eat the rich," or (white/nonblack) people misunderstanding the origins and depth of "karen" to render both things practically meaningless in popular culture. 

i'm trying to think of phrases that i and many other people use in our daily lives: maybe "you're in your ____ era." or maybe "liminal" or "post-ironic." i know there are better examples, i'll come back and edit this post when i think of them lol. 

there are formulas we follow to say a sentence. the "era" example is one i'm guilty of--it's an easy way to comfort a friend, to uplift them, to converse with a coworker and get a cheap laugh, to express my emotions without being vulnerable or thinking as deeply as i should about what i'm saying and how i want to say it. in short, it's an out, a mode of vulnerability-less expression. it's reflexive, empty words used to fill the space.

I don't think these things have the value that slang does, because they're so transient. by feeling meaningless within a few uses, they self-destruct, and we move on to another phrase/sentence formula that becomes meaningless then self-destructs (by becoming cringe or by nonblack people finding out it's AAVE). i could be wrong though...haven't done much research on what qualifies as slang

i think, to a certain extent, maybe it's okay if not every word someone says has meaning. maybe... but habit is so dangerous when it comes to language. "no ethical consumption under capitalism" is a good example of this. it was said so much by the wrong people that the majority of its users don't actually know what it means and it's used by nominal anti-capitalists to justify very capitalist activities. 

back to the book: "...exotic substance secreted--in a sort of trance--by interchangeable persons." this puts it into words perfectly. these phrases require no brainpower, they're practically a reflex.

so of course i had to read Ionesco's essay The Tragedy of Language, which is about his first play The Bald Sopranos, which he was inspired to write while learning English from a workbook that had him write down English sentences like "The floor is down" and "The ceiling is up."

From the essay:

So then of course I had to watch the play (links to read, watch). The conversations reminded me a lot of when I was back home and had to talk to a bunch of adults. “How curious it is! How very bizarre! What a coincidence!…but I do not believe I recall it.” Forms of expression that in their automatic usage render their content meaningless. the veneer of politeness that I often find myself trapped in—when I feel I need to be polite, and I feel my personality disappear, and with it any original language, and I default to an echo of the adults around me. The play exposes the absurdity of it all very well. 

What I love about reading nonfiction: you go from book to essay to essay to play, hardly conscious of it!

-Lizzy

[thewul]

Completing Sunset Creek

Chapter X, Let's go on a Cruise

King Georges

Over the next few days I tried to look poor, slacks jeans and a beaten Hugo Boss navy blue t shirt, well used to, more like pale blue now, to the apparent because women know how to make things apparent, displeasure of dear Lucy, who valued the high life much better, and what I found horrified me, money hangs around you like, like some kind of cloud, like the smell sardine oil after having sardines, that just won't go away no matter how hard you try

And the looks, the looks of the hotel staff, almost commiserating to my what my condition, my condition of having billions and trying to hide it, as if to say we have seen it all before, of course it's a world famous luxury hotel, we have seen rich people trying to get away with being rich and living happily ever after

That is until I met Georges, Georges is the Maître D'Hôtel at the restaurant, oh how Georges looked me up and down, and then he paused and went, Sorry Sir that won't be possible, with his back on the half empty tables of the restaurant, and all my billions couldn't buy me lunch, not even a salad, not in the Kingdom of Georges, where class doesn't have a price tag on it

I don't know if Georges is also a mind reader, with a slight smile he suggested, But room service is possible if you are so inclined, yes Georges I am so inclined not to hunger with billions of Dollars, do you know Georges of the happy days when I used to twist the hot cheese of my leftover pizzas while watching TV on the couch, George would frown at that simplest of words, pizza, vegetables meat and cheese thrown over a poor man's bread, and hamburger, well forget what you know friend, a hamburger is not a tasty sandwich, it's an insult

But we can never blame Georges for being what he is, to the contrary we should admire what he stands for, how wealth is not just having money, it is much more than that, you can have all the money in the world and never really belong to those for whom things are not a matter of how much, but of how few, not a question of whether they can afford something but of knowing how it is crafted, its history and value whether past or present, and essentially what standards they apply to their way of going about themselves, business, people, and the world

The simplest definition of a wealthy man is a skipper who knows how to steer his beautiful ship, and the simplest definition of a poor man is one who grounds his own self

Wealth or poverty only revealed what you are made of, money had little to do with being wealthy, or poor and when you knew that you knew a lot

Sopranos

Later in the evening

The phone rang for a couple of times, it could only be the one person who knew where I was, and so I picked it up

They want you dead, all four of them, Dillinger and the rest, 1 million bucks each, Am paying double the money, You been watching the Sopranos? Deal? Deal, When and where? Not here friend, Why not? Where then? Because you don't poopoo where you eat kiddo, I can make them travel, You can? All I have to say is take back the money, and Gino Yes? Am offering you that new restaurant too, That's my boy, Wait Gino, what if they buy back those hits? 16 million Dollars? They don't have that money, we checked, Of course you did, you did, Stay safe kiddo, arrivederci, Thanks a bunch Gino, Don't mention it

I put down the phone and it dawned on me why I put up with them all this time because things happen for a reason or reasons, well here we are now, on a losing streak and going all the way, it got to that point where you have all the chips and they're bluffing with a pair, but the tables do turn what nobody is telling you because they don't want you to be there when they do

That's crazy, you have people like that in life that don't know when they're done, they see that huge cliff in front of them and they have the pedal to the floor thinking they're going to fly over it like life is some Indiana Jones movie, and they see it happening but no, and true there's people in life who won't stop at anything, you beat them and they still want to get even whatever the consequences, Dillinger was just like that and so were the others

It got serious that way, and if they placed those hits once they would place them again, so leaving no room for repeat business is it, put those contracts on them twice just to make sure so help me God, in the end the feds or whomever will have to tie dead execs, all in to their necks with Dillinger who had already dispatched a couple, a low level employee who bailed like many others did after what happened, and money that didn't exist, it was a long shot especially if they couldn't tie me to the money

All I had to do is to keep a low profile which wasn't an issue, the real motive was the money, without the money there was no case, no wait a second I was building them a case with those murders… The feds were going to start digging for that money like there's no tomorrow, still by far the only plausible motive for all of it, that's what I would do nothing else could explain it not hurt feelings not revenge or some cheating wives affair no nothing like that, more than surely the feds knew already and if they could pin me to it I was done, I grabbed the phone and started dialing back

If its about your money it's gone kiddo, you owe it now, Keep the money, Just put everything on hold and let the word out that money has been paid, You sure? Yes, it's going to scare them for good which is all I want for now get them off my back, Smart kid, That's all Gino, thanks, Prego, And Gino, if they still find more money somehow we'll be talking again, Seguramente

The morning after

I exited the lift, heading to the breakfast buffet besides the terrace, numb, still dazed and confused by the recent turn of events and badly in need of coffee I felt I was being watched

My first impression of him was that of a wealthy man, clean cut with a nice suit, sitting legs crossed in the lobby lounge in front of a coffee and holding a newspaper… Upside down… He folded the newspaper and looked intently at me, smiling, amused almost, as if he knew who I was, that look as if he looked through me, almost an empty stare but still smiling still full of life, a hitman… it's hitmen that have eyes like that, oh no no, I looked away and made it to the suite to leave on the first plane, with Susie, beloved Susie who was there unpacking tons of shopping boxes and trying on new shoes

American Airlines Desk, Annie how may I help you? What time is the flight? Excuse me Sir, the… Which flight? First flight, Well we have to … Dallas Fort Worth, Connecting to where? Honolulu International Sir, later in the morning at 11:05, arrival at… I'll have that, Name please? For one person? Two persons, one way, fist class, name is Johnson, check in at the airport, Sorry Mister Johnson you have to book in advance, and check in 2 hours before, What, no, how much? How much what Sir? Your expensive stuff, card, club, anything, Well Sir our Admirals Club membership for one year is… Pay you when I check in, Amex Centurion Card, say I do, In that case Mister Johnson all you need to do is present yourself to our Admirals Club Lounge located in… Sold make it 3 years, thank you bye

Hey no listen you are going to have to stop wearing pink all the time, But what am I going to wear? There's other colors you can wear, not pink you can be seen from a mile away, It's my favorite color! Look at me, do I look like a victim to you? And that pink poodle we don't need that either, No way Billy Perkins! Well dye it in another color then, pack it we're leaving, Why leave? I like it here! So do I but we need to keep moving, Like fugitives you mean? Exactly

A Roll of Dices

Honolulu Hawaii, about 48 hours later

As I was putting on the everyday suit that I kept just in case I needed to look like everyone else I found a key in the pocket of the jacket, at first I didn't know what it was for, it had a number as would a locker key but for what, clouded memories of the last time I wore that jacket came slowly to my mind, at the bank…

The last time I wore that jacket was at the Bahamas bank, and that key was handed out to me by the banker, the safe deposit key… I had completely forgotten, the discovery of billions in that bank account made me dazed and confused, what, how didn't I think of checking its content, all I remembered was walking out the bank into the harsh sunlight of Nassau, a rich man, wandering aimlessly for a bit before catching a cab

What could be in it… The goods on Allstate, jewelry, cash, there had to be something, could it be a way out of a life on the run with a hitman chasing me around, I thought I seen his face in the crowds at the pier, as the ship was leaving, smiling and waiving, or maybe it was just an impression, I locked myself in my cabin, for what two weeks now, a cruise to anywhere here just take my money, going over Weissman's accounting to keep it together not lose it

More money going in than out, he had known that it was a crooked company but now he could see why, VBE's the miracle snake oil product of Sullivan and Richardson, that was going 'to propel the company forward into record profits' was a complete scam paying nothing in premiums and millions of it were being sold all across the country

But how did they steal from Allstate... well what do you know they pretend to pay premiums that either don't exist or are not paid, or they are but the money goes to an expenses account and back making it appear as if the recipients got their money, it's tricky and a lot of hassle to invent fake clients and their policies, it's much simpler to execute the provisions on existing policies where the paper chase is cut by the fact that there are no papers to speak of, Weissman is there to cook the books, you ask to see your policy record it's neat there's nothing there, but a premium for multiple sclerosis cancer has been swindled that looks not executed because old Weissman he just needs to trigger it, puts the trigger back to where it was, meanwhile they're selling millions of VBE's at discount prices that are a cash cow to them to keep the business running, policies that are good for flu medicine, skim the rest anything high end

This was huge I didnt know how many VBE's but millions there had to be millions how else could they steal 2.6bn, high end policies stripped of their provisions overnight and moved to VBE asset class account

Piecing it together to get the full picture of how they robbed people blind clients and shareholders alike, thinking is that what wealth got me, a porthole in a cruise ship, I needed a breath of fresh air and I needed it now

Nevermind if Mister Hitman could be lurking outside, it was still a big ship, one of those huge ones I hoped in on sight with beloved Susie, for anywhere, well with just a bit a luck I will not meet his thousand Dollars suit being dressed by 100% Polyester at Costco, you know life is also that, how you play your cards and if you don't have cards to play, borrow them

The cruise ship would arrive to Vancouver in a couple of days after a week spent discovering the islands of Hawaii, paradises on Earth could be an understatement, but Earth can be, is often, a paradise when left untouched, meanwhile I decided, finally, to have a talk with Lucy when she returned to the cabin, things could not go on like that, fleeing from a professional hit man or several,luckily she knew nothing only that we traveled with fake passports to hide from Dillinger & Co

For her own safety I needed her to split with everything she asked for really, maybe what I originally had in the back of my mind before deciding that she would be the perfect cover for a wealthy bachelor and luxury hotels turned out to be a trap with wealthy people that discuss wealth business and success as a normal way of being, whereas I found out that I probably amongst the worst at lying, well I never really had to I guess, didn't like it one bit either

Back in the cabin

Gino? Si pronto You need to save me, I have a hitman after me I cannot save you while am cooking pasta kid Pasta? What can you do for me? Pizza, lasagna, tortellini, depends where you staying You never lose it do you? You only lose it twice in this bizness, the first time is when you marry and the second time is when you divorce, capiche? He's here! He's here on the boat! Say a little prayer and he'll go away There's something you're not telling me Gino You have friends in high places kid, whomever took the contract didn't seem too interested in delivering, even in the money, but because he took it no one is touching it Tall guy well dressed? Looks like a model? Maybe, Signora Alessia, come va? Kid I have to go And me what about me? What do you mean you, she knows the Pope, in bocca lupo Di nulla!

Chapter XI, The Box

Chapter 11, The Box It's the unraveling of Dillinger & Co, the discovery of the deposit box contents, the cooked book of Weissman that he has Lucy mail to the FBI so that he can also set her up with a new identity as a federal witness, smart move that

edit, trip to the Bahamas from Vancouver

The Banker

BBQ stands for Bahamas Bahamas Q Branch, which Perkins finds out when he recovers the cooked book from the bank's deposit box, BBQ is a code name for Dillinger and his execs, and others at the board, well for the thieves to sum up, a front company part of the numbered account package

Did you know about BBQ, I see that you are in the list of trustees Surely Sir But you didn't say I didn't have to I don't know about BBQ you don't say Precisely You're really something Mister Banker, these papers list a boat with Dillinger and there's a house also, listed with Richardson Where are they now? They're not here That is regrettable So? It doesn't change a thing to the fact that these assets belong to BBQ And who does BBQ belong to now? To the person that claims it That simple Of course, providing you can produce the by laws which I see that you do, Bahamas Bahamas Q Branch, BBQ The boat is mine? And the house

Can I ask you to make copies of this? And a pen and paper no letterhead please? But of course Sir, my assistant will take care of that for you, would you like to have coffee meanwhile? Java Timor would do? It is a perfectly fine bland, I am afraid we have ran out of Arabica, Yes yes very much so

While Mister Banker made copies of Weissman's crap, that I was about to mail to the Bureau right next, I sat and wrote a letter to the FBI offering the cooked books of Allstate in return for witness protection for Lucy, stuff I knew about well that everyone knows about from movie flicks and TV series, a new identity, new ID, driver's license, social security, passport, the works even a birth certificate, real fake papers, untraceable inasmuch you didn't blow the paperwork cover

But I was confident, Lucy knew how to keep her cards close to her chest, going brunette and a little plastic surgery would do it, It was the best coffee I ever had in my life, Java Timor got to remember the name, see when you slam that door make sure the whole house falls to the ground, else you're not doing it right, the reply came a couple of days later agreeing to the deal, strangely they felt the need to mention that I wasn't part of it, well I didn't have Lucy's assets for certain

Crime Son

Lucy honey come here, Go ahead and say it, you never call me honey you call me darling, You deserve better in life Lucy darling, the high life all those movie stars you are fond of, Don't give me that you deserve better in life crap Billy Perkins it's looking back that kept us trapped like chickens at that hellhole where air conditioning was a thing, it's because of looking back that you could never keep a girl guess what they all looked the other way, say it's time to look forward, to move on, I move on you move on, we both move on, You mean you're not upset? Upset? Look at all of the stuff I just bought that I could never dream of affording, so? How about 100 million Dollars, pink mansion in Beverly Hills, pink marble pink everything, pink Cadillac, Well Billy Boy that's just enough for a small mansion, I've already spent my half my life in a one bedroom flat in Jersey, A small mansion do you say? Am not forever Billy Boy I want a huge mansion, to look 20 years younger, plus the clothes, shoes and luxury vacations around the world that you started by promising, am almost your wife you know, in fact we should be married instead of living in sin, You already look fine Lucy darling, Skip the soft soap Billy Boy, 200 millions? How much was in that account, you found their bank account didn't you, A bit more? Are you kidding me even a thousand Dollars was a fortune for you! I looked at everyone's payslips just so you know, I know you struck gold! 200 millions and a thousand Dollar bill? I'll take that Billy Boy, pass me the thousand bill first, A Grover? I don't have it on me, Well in that case put the sign on the door and get undressed for a thousand, I didn't know you were like that Lucy darling… That's your loss Billy Perkins and I am not interested in the change, I don't have it either Lucy Darling, You have more than you know Billy Boy…

Earlier on at the IRS

Mister Perkins you asked to meet us so here we are I know you're watching me How do you know that Mister Perkins Because I have eyes in the back of my head That's a good thing to have, and? You're after tax money on the 2.6 Billions We're after all of it actually, it's defrauded money It's money that don't exist So what exists Mister Perkins? 10% of that, 260 Million Dollars, your tax money 15% No can't do Why is that? Because they don't exist, but 10% exist And you get to keep the rest I already have it, deal? You're saying you have 2.6 Billions of defrauded money What does it change if you can't find them, do you want the 260 Millions or not? While they still exist Ok deal, how will you transfer the money? It's not money What is it then? Treasury bonds, I already bought them, I am not getting caught with 260 Millions in liquidity but you can have the bonds they're not nominative or anything You're a clever man Mister Perkins IRS clever It's appreciated 260 bonds, 1 Million denomination, counted twice Thank you Mister Perkins Nice day gentlemen Ah yes Mister Perkins one last thing, actually we are good at finding stuff and we reserve the right to pursue the remainder, in which case you will be charged for fraud, embezzlement and theft I know, I made sure we're not having that conversation, I do expect however that you won't spend all your time trying to find money for which I already paid taxes, nice day gentlemen

What do you think Walt, We won't catch him with as much as 20 bucks he can't justify, So why did he pay 260 Millions? Just like he said so that we don't spend too much time trying to find the rest, Paid in bonds too, Right straight from the treasury, I thought we had him there, Yes somebody taught him the ropes you don't walk into IRS with a suitcase full of cash, He's some weasel, It's something in his eyes, But he cuts an honest figure, They all do all the good ones nice home on the beach money on an offshore account, What about it, Well that's the guy, What beach, Abroad where we have no jurisdiction, Where could the money be? It's still in the Bahamas how else is he going to get 2.6 Billion Dollars out of there, He could have wired it from there, Wire it what for pay some percentages of it, it's not like any bank in the Bahamas is going to tell us anything, it's making them more money than booze on payday, But how did he get the 260 Millions in the US to buy the bonds, He didn't, he surely bought them through his offshore bank make it through customs no questions asked, a bond is a debt a treasury debt, the treasury took the money that's it game over it's got to pay it back, You're the man Walt you're the man, 30 years in the service son, We still can ask Bahamas banks about him, What are we going to say give us your Bahamas Dollars? It's Bahamas Dollars? What did you think, he's far from dumb, that's it if he doesn't do anything silly which something tells me that he knows better

Earlier on at the FBI

Gentlemen first I would like to say that I am deeply appreciative of the work that you do to protect us and keep us safe, even this investigation What did you do with the money I understand that you are trying to prove that I stole the money deposited by Dillinger on an offshore account in the Bahamas So you know, go ahead where's the money I also understand that you have to find an answer to that question because your whole case depends on it What do you mean No money no case You think you're so smart Anything else gentlemen? It's not over Perkins In that case I will have to report you for pursuing an investigation without proof, cases cannot be built on assumptions It's not an investigation we're just talking It's incredible the work that you do, keep up the good work Keep paying cash Will do You sent those books didn't you to put him and his people behind bars Is that what you would have done? Am not a criminal Neither am I That is it, thank you for your time Mister Perkins Welcome, nice day gentlemen

Can you believe that guy But how he doesn't even have a criminal record He's a con artist I seen it in his eyes the moment we brought him in that's why he agreed to start with, no lawyer no nothing Well he's still the prime suspect Don't you get it? He doesn't care if we think he's innocent or not, he made sure nobody ever finds that money! So what's next? We have nothing on him, it's only IRS that is going to stay on his back for that taxpayer money That he's spending in cash He might even cut a deal with them offer them money, look you know something is better than nothing, con artist talk all the way Did he steal 2.6 Billion Dollars again? Minus what he's going to propose to IRS, probably did already We've just met crime son John wait, why did he even bother showing up here To make us feel bad Make us feel bad? About spending years trying to nail him when we got worst stuff that's piled up to the roof already True, I did nothing but steal from a bunch of thieves, you have them, they're killers on top of that, drop it that's the message What do we do? What can we do Indict him! On what grounds, where's the proof We can trace him to the Bahamas! So what he visited the Bahamas, millions do every year, that's it, it's a dead end, he came here to show us the sign save us time, just him being helpful, probably is too No we can't let him get away with it! Are you kidding me, it's hundreds of thousands if not millions that got denied care because of the Allstate scam, nationwide, that he put out of business for good, he may as well have that money by my book But?! He's right junior, we're not closing the investigation just not spending time on that guy, too smart plus he knows what he's doing, listen you're just getting started with law enforcement, there's stuff that you let slide for the simple reason that's how things are, no harm done, the sooner you learn that the better

Dead man's hand

A pair of black aces, a pair of black eights, and a card that stayed covered, that nobody bothered to look at, it could have been a full of aces, or a full of eights, or some sad faced joker, but it is all in that covered card, all about what they don't know, when they least expect it, dealt to those who stand against you

It's all the story of what Perkins did, how he got out of his dead end life, how he kept that card on its face, how he never once shown it, even more less bragged about it, he won for the very good reason that no matter how hard we try we may never know what it was, only guess and be wrong at that too, but true there's no such thing as here take a look at my hand in poker, and poker is life

Big Fish

But how do you put down a big fish like Dillinger, with a contract, he has money, knows people, it's not the way to go about it, but Perkins makes it back to the Bahamas bank on a hunch he's got the key to that safe deposit box he didn't even go through, could it be the way out of the situation he's in, basically that Dillinger and others at Allstate have put contracts on him, they still have a lot of money, especially Dillinger who is bent on killing him, and in the box is the books that Andrew 'Cook' Weissman has cooked for Allstate enough to put Dillinger and his people behind bars for the rest of their lives, because old Dillinger he pays hit money from that offshore account same as cab receipts, just another expense, Allstate goes down and Allstate is huge, for fraud, and the FBI wants to know how a million bucks got paid and to whom a few days before Richardson got killed by a professional, and Dillinger what does he do, he just smiles, he's not upset or anything he played, he lost, he folded

Perkins used to put up with a dead end job and becomes a billionaire, how as he correct his life he unravels the misconceptions that he had that others might have including the readers, how in the end the billions that he has matter only little, the real story is how Perkins turns his life around, where everything that has taken place so far is accessory to the fact that fate intervenes in the life of our main character, that intervention implies walking out on the dead end job, taking risks, going through the illusion that money equals happiness, finding love which unlike money doesn't sit on a banking account, and coming to the realization, the inner peace, of a quiet life away from it all in a modest beach house in Costa Rica, where the people that matter are the same basically as those of the poker night, everyday people, he marries into them, they could use new fishing boats he sets up a small fishery, the real story is that Perkins had to steal 2.6BN Dollars to find out that money has little to do with happiness or love or finding one's way in life, but that willing to change, to take risks even does

Atlantic City Tribune, Sunday, December 15, 1986

Allstates’s bankruptcy reveals massive fraud accusations. Unitrust alleges Allstate fraudulently obtained almost $2.7 billion

In a stunning turn of events, Atlantic City's New Jersey based insurance company Allstate Insurances has filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection, unveiling a web of fraudulent activities that have sent shock waves through the industry. The company faces serious allegations of financial misconduct and asset mismanagement.

According to a filing with the Federal Insurance Office (FIO), Allstate employs 6000 and has 580 local branches. The company was founded in 1931 and has regional headquarters in California, Texas, New Jersey, Indiana, Tennessee, Georgia, Arizona and Arkansas.

Allstate filed Chapter 11 with nearly $3.25 billion in long-term debt. Unsecured claims total at least $2.4 billion, according to court filings. Among the largest unsecured creditors are CMC Trust Inc., owed more than $1.2 billion; Continental Securities, owed more than $1 billion; and Health Solution Express, HSE, owed more than $950 million.

However, court documents reveal a far more troubling picture of Allstate’s operations. Unitrust Financial Services USA, LLC, the company’s largest shareholder, has uncovered evidence of massive fraud perpetrated by Allstate against its creditors.

In a shocking revelation, Unitrust alleges that Allstate fraudulently obtained approximately $1.68 billion to purchase bulk insurance policies from Vanguard.

Allstate executives, several co conspirators weren't named, then proceeded to strip these policies of most of their provisions to be repackaged as low priced policies known at Allstate as VBE's or VB's, Value Benefit Economy policies

Court documents show that the company never actually paid Vanguard, or received the said insurance policies. Instead, Allstate somehow managed to provide Unitrust with fraudulent certificates of title for these non-existent insurance policies, complete with recorded liens. To add insult to injury, Allstate continued to make monthly payments on this loan as if the insurance policies had been purchased and were in their possession.

Unitrust’s investigation has also uncovered that approximately 36.6 million VBE policies serving as collateral for their loans were then illegally transferred to Ridge Insurance Policies & Retailing, Inc., an affiliate of Allstate owned by the same individual, Mr. Dillinger.

These insurance policies were subsequently sold, leased, or pledged to third parties, potentially creating a complex legal situation where innocent third parties may claim senior interest in the collateral. This unauthorized transfer alone could result in an additional $2 billion loss for Unitrust, for insurance policies that didn't exist to start with

In yet another fraudulent maneuver, Allstate reportedly transferred numerous insurance policies that were part of Unitrust’s collateral to its affiliate, Callstone Policies & Retail Inc., an insurance policy dealer. Callstone then sold these policies to third parties, allegedly free and clear of any Unitrust’s liens, under the guise of ordinary business transactions. Unitrust never received the proceeds from these unauthorized transfers.

The extent of Allstate’s fraudulent activities has placed the recovery of over $800 million in Unitrust loans in serious jeopardy. Whereas the hundreds of thousands of VBE policies actually sold to customers through Callstone's retail network were the object of a pending class action that could result in a further $1.4 billion loss in punitive damages for all shareholders and lenders alike. In light of these revelations, Unitrust initially had no interest in continuing its business relationship with Allstate during the bankruptcy proceedings.

In a bid to salvage the situation, Allstate has agreed to remove Mr. Dillinger, currently under arrest in a Federal case led by both IRS and FBI for fraud, embezzlement, forgery and theft, conspiracy to commit fraud over state lines and money laundering with the intent to defraud the IRS, as a director of each debtor company and replace him with unaffiliated independent directors.

Additionally, the company has accepted to retain Henry Thorn, proposed from and by Unitrust initially as a liquidator, to be its chief restructuring officer, granting him complete control over business operations, including all books, records and financial transactions.

These commitments have led Unitrust to cautiously agree to the debtors’ use of certain retained collateral, consisting of 580 local branches and all regional headquarter locations as well as 10 nationwide insurance policies retail affiliates, during bankruptcy proceedings. This agreement being subject to strict terms and conditions outlined in Unitrust agreed adequate protection order.

As the bankruptcy proceedings unfold, all eyes will be on Allstate and its newly appointed independent directors and CRO. Insurance industry and creditors alike will be watching closely to see how this complex web of fraud is untangled and what consequences will follow for those involved in these deceptive practices.

Texan oil man just wanted to have fun with the big city boy, who didn't smell anywhere like crude oil, but as Perkins turns things around he finds out that the kid is actually smart and has money to invest which isn't bad at all, because underneath his Texan skin there's a business man and a business man most of time is doing business even when he is brushing his teeth

4 chapters to go, and a character that is maturing, that is falling back on his poker skills to deal with his new wealth, in the next 4 chapters the novel has to come together, people not money, or money as a means not as an end, this is where his life continues in a fishing village in Costa Rica, the Sunset Creek the novel is about

So in the dead end job was the means to an immense wealth, happiness was never about what you have or don't have, rather how you go about life, about others, and yes about yourself, it's harder to know that you are worth more and easier to just say it, it's even harder to have other people know it and not just say it

Perkins has to reach the conclusion that Weissman typed down that sequence, and that he is desperate to find it, and that it has to do with what's going on at Allstate, he still doesn't know what the 21 numbers are for but the cab receipt sets him on track, and Lucy yields the final piece of the puzzle, that BBQ is a front company only the top management knows about, and from there he takes his chances, if the sequence turns out to be a numbered bank account he can strike gold, run with the loot, now he still after the money doesn't put in perspective how Dillinger & Co are going to want him dead for robbing them, but he's no fluffy bunny, buys Bahamas passports for himself and Lucy because he knows that he has to disappear and that he owes Lucy, she deserves better maybe even she put herself at risk for having told him about BBQ

the postcards he finds them in the deposit box, someone put them there for him but we will get to that

Chapter XII, Sunset Creek ***end spellcheck***

Chapter 12, Sunset Creek Takes the Lady Belle from Montego Bay to Costa Rica, anchors in a bay there, becomes interested in the people of a fishing village nearby, settles down and marries

So yes Lady Belle is the name of the sail ship in our novel

Lady Belle

I couldn't believe my eyes when I seen here, perfectly in order and moored to the dock with her sails stacked, This is your ship Mister Johnson, My ship… My ship… Going about her back and forth as if struck by madness, what would Uncle Joe think what would Uncle Joe say

56 meters Selene that is correct Mister Johnson, all port fees paid for it is just a crew that she lacks, and provisions of course, fuel tanking should take only a couple of hours at most so she can be ready whenever you require, I had no idea yes I expected a sail ship but nowhere close anything like this, 57 meters that's 180 no 187 foot…

The ship's papers are inside the master cabin's safe which is not locked it is a perfectly reputable Marina I remember the banker saying, had I gotten those papers beforehand I would have found out how large, and beautiful, no magnificent she was, Can I visit I mumbled visibly numb at my discovery

But of course Mister Johnson she is all yours, the ship's caretaker contacted us in advance informing us that you would visit but didn't know when, a pleasant surprise isn't it, she was a sight when she arrived here some six months ago now, and since it has been painful not to see here sail again, she's become part of the Marina and her dock has become the most visited one, people come to take a look at her and many return again and again, even the coffee place in front of her has become busier, The caretaker do you say? Six months ago? Yes your banker from the Bahamas brought her here, from Nassau I believe, do you know how to sail Mister Johnson

Sail… Yes, isn't it what you came here for? Later on I can arrange for you to meet some of the ship crews for hire that we have, safe hands, very professional with previous experience in luxury yachting and excellent credentials, from both chartering companies and yacht owners, since you are an owner, How many do I need? Are you expecting guests Mister Johnson? Guests… No it's just me, In that case I suggest a crew of five including a cook and cabin staff

Make it three I know how to sail, I promptly replied as I snapped back to reality not to sound completely dumbfounded or suspicious even, No cabin staff Mister Johnson? No we'll clean after ourselves, thank you very much for your assistance in this matter, Of course, with great pleasure Mister Johnson, well I have to leave you know if you feel like having lunch the Marina's restaurants, there are several, will accommodate you perfectly, Thank you again

Six months she's been here… From when I first visited the bank in Nassau… I remembered the smiling face of Poitier, Buy a sailboat Sir, The world you see has many horizons and many sailboats, he was all that wasn't he, made sure Dillinger could never put his hands on Lady Belle again, how life is, when you think you've seen the best of people they still manage to surprise you with more of it, not all of them do, but Sidney was one of those, of the finest

And it's true that the bad ones will surprise you just the same, but it was remote from my thoughts, even how growing up is made of acting surprised when we aren't, forgetful at times or often, more or less hopeful depending how life treated us or how we treated life, but importantly more forgiving of ourselves, and of others

Because in the end we're only human, and to life maybe we're just kids, and she has gifts when we least expect it, not to make up for anything but because that's how she is, neither hard or easy but all of the things of life without which she could not be otherwise

Sunset Creek

The creek looked wild and unkempt, with a dozen fishing shacks on the horizon and small decrepit fishing boats grounded by the low tide, a fishermen village, I stayed at a reasonable distance from the shore on a spot that I had scooted while scuba diving for crabs mostly and dropped anchor, come first light I had decided to venture on the coast, buy some fish and vegetables, at any rate introduce myself to the people of the village, because men of the sea watch for each others

I didn't know if I was dreaming but the repeated sound of knocking astern made its way into my thoughts as I woke up, I put my clothes on in a hurry thinking surely a sea wreck or log stuck on the boat could damage the hull what else could it be, and to my surprise I found a few of the villager's boats that I had spotted the night before, full of smiling faces of all ages

Some very young, some adults or elders, both men and women, in the midst of all of the groceries I was thinking of getting in the village, brought by curiosity no doubt for the Lady Bell was really a beautiful schooner that would get its fair share of attention in any port, and to sell the many goods their small boats were loaded with, vegetables of all kinds, fruits and yes fish, for Costa Rica was plentiful, in its dense luxurious jungle and its cascades hidden in the heart of the forest, in its pristine and almost untouched coastline stretching as far as the eye could see, and in the joyful welcoming innocence of its people

Anita

She carried a straw basket replete with vegetables and even a couple of chickens, or maybe they were tree of them, sticking their heads out and protesting as loud as they could, she didn't as much watch her steps as she glided over the rocky beach stretch leading to the village's market

The moment she looked at me I stood still, either bewitched or enchanted by her long flowing curly dark hair, her gracious silhouette and most of all her piercing black eyes and natural long eye lashes, she could have well walked out of a painting, I mean I don't know much about paintings or art but it was a painting right there in the orange shades of early morning

She stopped humming her song as soon as she noticed my presence and almost hurried away, either out of shyness or for not being used to seeing strangers, even less so getting caught unaware in her familiar settings

I would learn later on that her name was Ana Monteiro, that her fisherman father had passed away at sea in her tender years in a tragedy that everyone at the village still remembered, and that she provided for her elder mother and four siblings by selling vegetables, chickens and eggs, at the market, where everyone called her Anita

One of the first people I met was Paco, to his benefit he spoke a little English and after disembarking me on the shore he proposed his services to ferry me to and from the ship whenever I wanted, in the morning, he made a gesture of grabbing something, me I guess, from the ship at a distance indicating 6AM with his other hand, and back in the evening gesturing at any time, I accepted his offer and indicated 8AM instead

A sturdy old man who rowed his boat with ease, as if it was nothing, or more to the point a second nature, that of being born and living all of his life in a fishermen village, where the sea was not an elsewhere but just another somewhere, and rowing a boat grew with you from an early age in life, same as walking or swimming

Paco knew everyone, well everyone knew everyone else, and guided me through the small village, stretching alongside a rocky creek, with a small sand beach further away before the arm that extended into the sea, and in the back of the village was a dense jungle for as far as the eye could see, thick, unfathomable, with ragged peaks looming in the distant horizon, almost another world in itself that coexisted with the coastline

Because it was almost time for lunch we bought some fish and coal from the market, he then took me to his favorite spot to roast fish on the shore, a rock mound overlooking the creek and its couple of dozen fishing boats laying on the sandy portion, on top of which nature had disposed its on rocks as seats, and even a dry puddle where he arranged the coal and lit a fire

I gazed at the fishing boats at a distance, some in good order and some left to whither away under the sun, rowing boats most of them, motors didn't come cheap neither did gasoline, the motored ones looked better cared for then the rest of them, who often barely had any paint left on their flanks, or the men would repaint them soon whenever they could afford it

After going fro and there in the village, where each couple of steps was the occasion for Paco to meet someone and talk, often for a long while since being in a hurry wasn't a thing or a way of life, or came only few and in between when women had to give birth, and I too told was asked where I am from, about my boat, how long was I staying and where to, all of the things you would be asked by villagers for whom the Lady Belle showing up overnight in the bay in front of their homes was the talk of town and an event they would remember for a lifetime especially the children, or all of those who never seen anything quite like it from up close

As the day went by and the sun started going down, it's hours spent strangely almost unnoticed as if time stood still but still went by when you didn't pay attention, Paco dragged me to the local watering hole where after a couple of beers he started spilling his beans about how the people of the village were left to themselves for as long as he could remember, how it didn't even have a road and they couldn't sell their fishing catch to sell at better prices in the larger towns further away, or even freeze it for that mater since neither diesel generators or the large freezers that these towns had came cheap, for any fisherman that had not much to spare or even collectively, and how it was all dried as a result not just to rot away on the shelves

About how the only people that were better of had motored boats and even they couldn't stock their catch and so they had to sell it on the spot after taking it by sea to the larger fish markets, and accept any prices they were given, yes the sea was plentiful but the village had little means to prosper from it

And it is then between a couple of beers, or many I didn't keep count, that the idea of investing in the village and its community made its way into my mind, that this creek, especially the way it looked at dusk hour was all of the settings I could ask for, quiet, out of time almost, a place where the thoughts of hit men never crossed my mind since I arrived, where I didn't feel wanted by whomever for whatever reason, and yes where my sudden wealth wasn't a curse, to the contrary I felt unburdened and free

A fishermen village in Costa Rica… The dead end job, the meaningless life or atleast in the eyes of my ex girlfriends, the numbered sequence, I remembered my dry mouth while punching them, the billions and what I thought was a new lease on life in the fast lane, all of that in the end hands, hands of cards, leading to this place, where I felt that I belonged the most, where nothing was more important than just being, here of all places

But… I could have hoped in the first plane and arrived to Sunset Creek, what years ago, a decade ago when I figured out that what I had only made sense to myself and not even to my poker friends, but no things don't work that way or fate doesn't work that way, see that deck of cards that we call life, well it's got a life of its own

I decided to stay, if it's motored boats, diesel generators and freezers that were needed I would procure them, that Paco said they could change everything, hell I would even build that road, and you have to do that, to know why things are or find them out, why that creek, that village, those people, warmhearted, genuine, more dignified than to ask but still in need of a helping hand while I had more money than I could spend in a hundred lifetimes and I needed a place away from it all, yes I would stay at Sunset Creek, be that helping hand, even two hands I thought, you have to be that in life, the prodigal stranger for the very reason that you can be, that you are meant to be

Build a home, and marry Anita if she accepted, Anita and her hurried steps each time I caught a glimpse of her in the village market, to change her everyday clothes and come back for our dates on the outside seating of La Boqueria Fina, often under the facetious cheers of the women and girls of the village, wearing her one and only fancy red dress with flowing sleeves that an aunt bought her from the big town, how she maked sure her dress always looks neat when they meet, fresh and without any wrinkles, and the gold earrings she inherited from her mother

Maybe even she was the reason, the second I seen her everything that didn't made all of the sense in the world, the catch, the steal, the life on the run, all of it the means to an end, and the end was a meaning, of life itself

Of destiny or the bigger scheme of things, that we may call them as we want, have them on our thoughts or not all, expect them or not, but the cards will play themselves, always, inasmuch as you believe in them, inasmuch as you believe in you, and in fate, that the bad guys are there for a reason, that there's good guys too in your story never forget that it's easy to forget that

Because life is more than a game, it's about more than wining or losing, more than about wealth or poverty, it's about making sense of it, it's about finding peace, finding happiness, finding oneself, and yes each others

Epilogue

Gino's Place

Gino's restaurant was not much to look at but still had it's charm, creme wallpaper that turned a bit yellowish since, red and white tablecloth covers, authentic blackened wood chairs that weighted a ton to lift, and 1930's pictures of New York where Gino as from, hanging on the wall as a large oil painting depicting a beautiful Italian villa nested in the countryside of Sicily, only the kitchenware was a bit modern, as it got replaced over time I guess

Aside from that the place hadn't changed from as long as I could remember, from when my old man used to take us there for an Italian family lunch or he would take his wife there for a romantic diner just the two of them, and Gino was also that, family, with his local joint in a quiet, or used to be, suburb of Atlantic City, where he kept a low profile basically, only his expensive limo tint Cadillac parked outside of the restaurant framed him as a wiseguy, that he had won in horse bets or probably not because I never seen him bet

That and his cord phone in the back of the restaurant where some said he ran his mob business, or atleast that's what people suggested about a character who was loved by everyone in the hood, to whom everyone else owed some service or favor at some point, while he insisted that they do not speak a word of it, but still did

Even Sgt Harris kept quiet about the Pizza Pasta Godfather he called Gino, framing him without saying as a some go in between guy, and consigliere of more than a single Italian mafia family, well everything restaurant was Gino and Gino was everything restaurant, always had nice things to say about the dates that I invariably brought there, offering Tiramisu to those he especially liked

And there was mobsters and mobsters, there was those who minded their business, that law enforcement knew it could still talk to and make deals with, and the public dangers that nobody liked, the mob itself more than anyone else because they're "bad for business"

Gino was old school, kept his affari quiet and tight and his name out of newspapers and law enforcement mouths, there was only that one time I still remembered, and always will, when Gotti was making the news on the cable TV set that the restaurant has, and I nodded to the screen wondering what he would have to say about the Teflon Don if anything

He gazed at the news channel for a while, and looked at me square in the eyes from behind the counter with stone cold eyes and a slight corner smile, "Cosa di amici non paga nulla" he said in his usual low tone, almost making me a wiseguy on the spot, and true John Gotti had risen to the top by making sure there were no more amici basically

I would have handed him an Oscar right there if I had one for best everything, Gino's place was all that, almost, no as good as sitting in the movie set of Goodfellas or even The Godfather, and we all did, I wasn't the only one but still a few in the know of what Gino would never tell anyone openly, keep the secret that we had that Goodfellas restaurant in our own hood, it's not stuff that money can buy, or that you can find elsewhere

Still looking for Dusk Bird in these novels, and it seems he has resurfaced in Sunset Creek not as Billy Perkins not as the obvious main character, but as the gray suit man who's barely there or he's there for a job he has to do and he's gone, as a professional hitman, he's still Matt Pawn in Dream Chaser, the humanitarian doctor

So the poker night part ahead of us, and I also realize that we are still telling the story of Atlantic city and the neighborhood Perkins grew up in, still lives there, plays poker with older folks, his retired neighbors

poker night where a lot of things are said, important things

About life, his neighbors are retired they had their shares of troubles and successes in life, and they're looking at him still young, playing poker with them, why isn't he having fun with a younger crowd his age, partying getting drunk and chasing girls, how come he's already spending time with them, learning from them, saying things that are not even his age as if he had their experience in life

And how on earth is he different from about every other youngster they know, not wanting to have everything now money success women fast cars, it's like he's not after anything and waiting for his moment, he knows the value of patience which comes often much later in life, they more they consider it he's onto something big, but what is it, they ask all sorts of questions not directly but, and Perkins well he doesn't know himself what it is

Or he's bluffing all the way to the bank, good looking, smart, good instincts, well mannered, maybe he's thinking that the spreadsheet copy and paste life is going to crumble of its own, he's worth more than that and he knows it, all he has to do is wait

He's sitting at a poker table with guys that are going to lose one after the other, O'Connor, Sullivan, Richardson, Weissman, Dillinger, what do you do tell them, why you're a charity business, no no let's play all the way, put all of those chips on the table and more

What they don't see in you they don't see in themselves, as simple as that, and if life isn't something it's a rerun

Humpty Dumpty kept tagging and eventually you settled somewhere