#picturing this set in 2013 that fateful year before everything went wrong

[sionisjaune]

98 for brocedes :)

Sensory prompts! 98. low smoke lingering and diffusing to a smudged haze in humid summer air

It’s just Nico and Lewis left by the time the fire has died. Lewis finds himself inhaling the smell of char floating on the warm night air and wincing when it stings his eyes. On the other side of the fire, Nico is bundled up to his chin in a Mercedes-branded thermal blanket. Whoever said a team camping trip would be a good bonding exercise had obviously not taken into consideration Nico’s poor tolerance of non-Mediterranean climates. 

“What,” says Nico, sharply. 

“Huh?” says Lewis. His eyes are squinted half-shut from the smoke. 

“You’re staring,” says Nico. 

“I’m not,” says Lewis. “Just—looking.” 

“Looking at what,” says Nico, his mouth twisting. Lewis can’t help but recall the sloppy seal it made around his dick in the humid early morning, cloistered inside Lewis’s sleeping bag, Nico’s sweaty palm on the inside of his thigh. 

“Just… behind you,” says Lewis. Nico twists around in his camp chair to look. “The stars look—nice.” 

Nico untwists, facing Lewis again with a placid expression. Lewis’s throat is dry when he swallows. He wonders if it’s always going to be this good—Nico at his side, whatever it is between them blossoming into something secret and intimate. 

“Yeah,” says Nico. Small wrinkles appear over his nose. Lewis can see them even through the smoke lingering above the dying embers. “Nice.”

[doomedandstoned]

Iron Man Cement 30-Year Career with Monumental Double Album (+ new song!)

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

Review by Billy Goate

This is more than an album. It is more, even, than a portrait of quintessential New England doom metal. It is a testament to the enduring power of music and friendship to bring a collective dream to life and to sustain it to the bitter end.

The new double album 'Hail To The Riff' (2021) showcases 14 anthems by Maryland doom legends IRON MAN. With the exception of one previously unreleased studio song, the bulk of the material was performed live at Castle of Doom Festival in Pagazzano, Italy on Saturday, July 5th, 2014. It was the band's one and only trip to Italy, now being released for the first time (appropriately enough) by Italian label Argonauta Records.

Many of you know the Iron Man story. Founded back in '88 as a Black Sabbath cover band, the guys gradually started playing their own compositions and were ecstatic by the positive reception the original material received. Iron Man released their first album in '93 and over the course of many decades, went on to tour the world with the likes of Cathedral and Pentagram, composing many a doom standard along the way ("Hail To The Haze" will forever be my fav).

"In the beginning, Iron Man had two jobs," guitarist Al Morris told Doomed & Stoned some years back. "First, we were a Sabbath tribute. We were able to headline shows and get people talking about the band. Second, we were writing original music for a demo to shop. Everything went as planned! By May of 1992, we got signed to Hellhound Records in Germany. That kind of history, coupled with the internet, gave us worldwide exposure. The fans did not let us get frustrated! We are totally motivated by our fans. We have them in mind at all times." (Read the classic Doomed & Stoned interview with Iron Man.)

It should surprise no one that Hail To The Riff   is dedicated straight up to Alfred Morris III, who sadly died in 2018. As he was the longest-standing member of Iron Man and its most consistent face, it made sense when the group disbanded after the passing of its founding member.

"The Type of person my father was," Al's daughter reflects, "he never expected anything huge. He just enjoyed doing what he loved. Music was in his blood; part of his DNA and he wasn’t complete without it...As long as I can remember, Iron Man was a large part of my dad’s life, and mine. My first rock show? My dad’s band. The first live show I ever saw was Iron Man. Watching my dad perform, I saw him transform. He had this amazing stage presence. An effortless grace when he played guitar that was mesmerizing. Even though I had seen him play a thousand times, I was always impressed!"

I spoke with Screaming Mad Dee Calhoun in 2018, near the 30th anniversary of Iron man and just a few months following Al's death. "Just on a personal note, I don't think anything I'm doing now," Dee reflected, in reference to his burgeoning solo career, "would have been possible without being a part of Al and Iron Man. Al was very supportive of my efforts outside of Iron Man, be it music or writing or what not. I can never thank him enough for just tapping me on the shoulder and saying, 'Hey I want you to join my band?'" Dee continued, "No one I ever knew who knew Al ever had a bad word to say about him. He was just one of those guys who was a positive influence on people. Once he touched a project, it was better than before he touched it. We certainly miss him.

As a follow-up I asked hnw people could get better acquainted with Al's contribution and really hear his spirit. Dee replied, "Just start with Black Night and work forward. He would want to be remembered by his music. Just sit back and enjoy what he had to bring to the world." That album's title track is no. 13 on the playlist below us, and Al shines just as bright on it here as he did on their cardinal opus. What band could hope for a better life than Iron Man had, with their unlikely success leading them to record five LPs and three EPs, crossing some of the world's greatest record labels?

Hail To The Riff   begins with a cheering throng and the grungy downtuned riffing of Al Morris, to be joined in short order by Louis Strachan on bass and Jason "Mot" Waldmann on drums. At last, Screaming Mad Dee belts out hellfire and brimstone in his scratchy quasi-operatic style (who, it must said, has one of the most intimidating voices in all of metal). "Make some goddamn noise!" The crowd eats it up, of course.

At this point, I'd advise you to make any room corrections you need to, as live recordings tend to be a unique beast all their own. They always sound a little "thin" and "boxy" to me. I found simply turning the volume up a few notches more than for casual listening brought this live recording alive for me. I did not, however, tempt fate by listening with earphones (I'm already dealing with enough tinnitus from my many years of filming live shows).

"The time is here to strike fear. We are Iron Man, bringing you 25 years of Maryland doom!" That really fires up the festival for what would become the band's third and final live albums. If this had been your first time hearing Iron Man, you would encounter a group in top form with accessible songs like "Run From The Light" that capture so powerfully the spirit of metal, itself a kind of freak born of the age of electricity.

Since I don't have perfect pitch, I would be hard pressed to determine just where Al's axe is tuned for this set. Judging from tracks like "The Worst and Longest Day'' and "South of the Earth," let's just say it's low enough to confuse the guitar sometimes for the bass (and when you listen a second time, the bass is often hitting a similar if not lower range). Remind me to ask the guys next time I get a chance and I'll add a note to this article with their answer. I'll be there were a lot of fans that day who were really feeling that Iron Man vibe on a raw, gut level as the sound reverberated through from their internal organs, ultimately grabbing hold of their spine with a mighty grip of doom, and shaking their bones like a rattle.

I've always said the acid test of any band is their ability to pull their songs off convincingly in a live setting. So many things can go wrong, but the way a band bounces through the hurdles of that 30-60 minute set tells you everything. You know right away whether you're dealing with confident musicians who believe it to the core, or wannabes who are fronting a hype machine. To hear Dee make "South of the Earth" work without the cool vocal layering from the recording and still give you chills says everything you need to know about the integrity of Iron Man as a band.

Time for the bottom line. Hail To The Riff   is nothing less than a celebration of metal-making, friendship, and the mysterious power of the riff to compel us -- no matter who we are, what language we speak, or what our differences may be -- to assemble together as a sweaty mass under a hot Italian sun in the middle of summer and revel in the pure love of heavy music. If you close your eyes, you can almost picture yourself there.

Of course, the real treat for Iron Man acolytes is going to be the solemn 14th and final track, "Black Morning." The band recorded it in late-September of 2013, just days before South of the Earth saw its release on Rise Above Records (later on Metal Blade Records, too). Hearing the words and the instruments meet in such perfect execution and conviction brought a single thought to my mind: "These guys really get doom." Long live the ferocity and might of Iron Man!

The album is officially out this Friday on digital outlets, with a special gold vinyl 2XLP available via Argonauta Records. Right now, Doomed & Stoned is letting you revel in it all! So sit back, turn those speakers up, and...

...give ear.

Iron Man - Hail The Riff

Tracklist

The Fury

Run From the Light

The Worst and Longest Day

Ruler of Ruin

South of the Earth

Grown

As the Gods Have Spoken

Hail to the Haze

Sodden With Sin

A Whore in Confession

On the Mountain

Fallen Angel

Black Night

Black Morning

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

[fairestcat]

We Did The Thing: Musings On the AO3, Wiscon, and Winning the Fandom Culture Wars

HOLY SHIT WE WON A MOTHERFUCKING HUGO.

Ahem.

More seriously - or at least more verbosely - I think we won the fandom culture wars. How weird is that?

This is a sort of rambly post. It's about the OTW and the AO3, but it's also about Wiscon, because that's the community I'm in where old-school SFF fandom and transformative works fandom collide, and it's where I've watched this transformation happen over the last decade.

Back in October I made a tumblr post about the history of the OTW/AO3: On the AO3 all these years later.

That post is mostly just quotes from the comments to @astolat's original post that started the AO3: An Archive Of One's Own - and quotes from the post I made back then linking to hers:  An Archive of One's Own, Or: Why Shouldn't We Ask For Everything We Want?

Those posts are from May 2007. I was on the OTW Finance Committee by that fall.

One year later, in May 2008, I went to my first Wiscon. I was on two panels: "Fanfic and Slash 201," and "Fanfic Rising: The Organization for Transformative Works."

They were back to back on Saturday night. "Fanfic and Slash 201" from 9:00 to 10:15 and the OTW panel from 10:30 to 11:45. All fanworks panels at non fanworks-specific cons were late night panels back then. Or, occasionally, on Monday morning after half the con had gone home.

I don't remember who else was on the Fanfic 201 panel, but the OTW panel was me, @oliviacirce and ellen_fremedon. The three of us had never met before that con. @oliviacirce and I had been in Chicago Friday night for a Panic! At the Disco concert and hadn't gotten back to Madison until 3am. I have no idea how we were even still coherent for a 10:30 PM panel.

None of us wrote the panel description, which reads even more impressively antagonistic in retrospect.

"The Organization for Transformative Works (OTW), led by fanfic writers, fan vidders, and fan artists (including writer Naomi Novik) seeks to establish a new regime in copyright law, in which 'all fannish works are recognized as legal and transformative and are accepted as a legitimate creative activity.' Should there be an exception for fanfic under copyright? Is OTW a good idea? (Some fans are afraid that OTW's activities will end BigMedia's tolerance for fannish creations.) What does the law say? What's the viewpoint of those who create original works -- should authors lose control of their original creations, as long as fans claim protection under a fanfic exception? And what about OTW's commitment to offer protection for RPF (Real People Fanfic)?"

At the time I would have said it was a pretty good panel, and yet we spent a distressing percentage of the panel defending the mere right of fanworks to even exist.

I went back to Wiscon in 2009, which was an...eventful year. It was the first Wiscon post-Racefail and it sparked a lot of discussion of intersecting modes of fannishness and particularly online fandom vs. offline con-based fandom, which was at the time a much bigger divide.

Wiscon 2009 was also the year @ellen_fremedon went to a panel on historical fiction, and got jumped on by Ellen Klages, who was one of that year's Guests of Honor, for the sin of mentioning fanfic in her presence.

After that Wiscon I posted Wiscon, Media Fandom and The Larger Fannish Conversation, about my experience of that divide, particularly as a transformative works fan at Wiscon.

Here's the thing: online media and fanfic fandom is a vibrant, active community within broader SF fandom. [...] And to a large extent media fandom is where the young female fans are, the women who are the future of fandom. We're there at Wiscon too; I was amazed by the number of people from LJ fandom I saw at the con this year. And yet, when it comes to having a voice in larger fandom, we're still the embarrassing cousin shuffled off into the corner (or the hotel lobby). Even at Wiscon, the feminist science fiction convention, we're mostly under the radar, carving out a tiny niche for ourselves.

Last year we had two general, broad-topic fanfic panels. This year we had a fanfic panel, a vidding panel and the media vs. book fandom panel, which was not explicitly a media fandom panel but had an audience heavily weighted towards media fandom participants. And I walked into those panels and I thought "Here! Here are my people!" But it was frustrating too. Why are we relegated to the corner, why are we willing to be relegated to the corner? The conversations we're having, the things we're doing, they don't exist in a vacuum, they're relevant to the larger fannish conversation, they're especially relevant, I think, to the conversation going on at Wiscon. And I think it's time we were a bigger, more open part of that conversation.

So, we set out to make that happen. The OTW and the AO3 were a big part of that. Everyone who was worried at the time that the OTW would bring too much attention to fandom was right to be afraid. And wrong to be afraid too. Because that attention was how everything started to change. The OTW was fandom coming out of the closet, and like any coming out it was a powerful, transformative moment for those involved.

In 2010, a group of fans held the first ever Wiscon Vid Party. 

At Wiscon in 2010, we held the first ever vid party in one of these hospitality suites on the Saturday night, from 9pm to 3am. That's six hours of vid programming! It was mostly unthemed, other than "here are some amazing vids!"[...] The general vibe of the party was loud, a little bit raucous, and pretty informal. We had a mixture of sofas and armchairs, stackable seating, and standing room. People came and went at will. We put a sign on the door asking people to keep conversations to a minimum, and it worked pretty well to keep chatter down while still allowing people to relax and have a good time. It was pretty much like a really big living room.

I missed that con due to the whole move to Canada and get married thing I did, but I remember my first Vid Party in 2012, looking around the party room and having this amazing feeling of being surrounded by my people.

I loved Wiscon, but it was always a fraught experience. There was always this worry that I'd say the wrong thing in the wrong place and suddenly get that disappointed, "oh, you're one of those fans," response. The vid party was the one place at the con that you could just walk in and that worry went away.

And then there started being more of those places. We started suggesting more and more fic and vid related panels.

In 2012, @oliviacirce and I were both on two transformative works panels. "What makes a great transformative work?" and "Fans Fix SF." In a step up from previous fanworks panels at Wiscon they were both during the day. But they were also both in the smallest panel rooms at the con, and both panels fit comfortably into those rooms. Conference 5, where "Fans Fix SF" was held, is still the only room Wiscon uses for programming that's so small it isn't wired for microphones.

And then in 2013 I suggested ten panels for Wiscon and nine of them ended up on the schedule. They weren't all explicitly transformative fandom panels, but a lot of them were, and most of the panel descriptions were informed by my experience in transformative works fandom. Looking back, that was a sea-change moment, because an interesting thing happened. There mostly stopped being transformative fandom-specific panels at Wiscon, because it started being okay, even expected, that fanfic and other transformative works might come up on any panel, from the audience or the panelists.

At Wiscon 2018, I went to a panel on #OwnVoices fiction. Every panelist was a published author and/or professional editor. In the course of the panel, every panelist mentioned fanfic in general or the AO3 in specific in an explicitly complementary fashion. I nearly burst into tears in the back of the panel room.

Afterwards, I met up with @oliviacirce and ellen_fremedon to flail about it, at which point we realized that it had been ten years since that first fateful OTW panel where we all met. And that ten years both felt like so long ago, and also so recent for everything to have changed so completely.

At Wiscon 2019, the three of us were on another panel together. We called it "Fanfic: Threat or Menace - Ten Years Later," and this time I wrote the description:

Do you remember a time before the AO3? Do you remember a time when mentioning fanfic at Wiscon risked a lecture on its illegality and/or immorality? We sure do! In 2008 we met on the panel “Fanfic Rising: The Organization for Transformative Works,” & spent most of our time defending the right of fanworks to exist. In 2018 we were amazed to realize just how much had changed. Let’s talk about how the perception & reception of fanworks have changed, both in fandom at large and right here at Wiscon.

We made it onto the schedule. They once again put us in the smallest panel room. We looked around the lobby on Thursday night and said, "yeah, that ain't happening." We eventually moved to one of the largest panel rooms.

It was almost completely full.

I started the panel by reading out the original panel description from 2008. There was laughter! revolutionaryjo came up afterwards and asked to take a picture of the description on my phone. There were so many people in that room who had no idea what the Wiscon of a decade previous had been like. It was amazing.

Best Related Work? The OTW and AO3 changed the nature of the relationship between fic readers and writers and the entirety of mainstream organized SFF fandom.

The Wiscon Vid Party is still happening, and it's still a marathon of amazing vids, but it's not a really big living room anymore. The Vid Party is the Friday night feature in the biggest panel room. There are Premieres. There’s a sing-a-long. People come who have never watched a vid outside of Wiscon. People come who've never even heard of vids outside of Wiscon. The first year the Vid Party was in the big room, I walked into the room just before the show started, looked around, and realized I didn't recognize ⅔ of the people in the room. And I was so happy. Because I no longer need the Vid Party as a safe space to let down my guard, the entire con is now that place.

We did that. We made that happen.

The OTW made that happen. The AO3 made that happen. But also, a whole lot of individual fans made that happen. We stepped out of our corner, we stepped out of our closet. We demanded a seat at the table. And now we have a motherfucking HUGO AWARD, and when Naomi Novik got on stage at the Hugos and asked everyone who felt that they were part of the AO3 to stand up to be acknowledged, a notable number of this year's other Hugo nominees were among the attendees who got to their feet.

[withasideoficing]

Chapters (Part One)

Chapters- Part One- Things Change in the Blink of an Eyelid

Part One Summary:  Cora Owens was raise on the ball fields of New Jersey. Now living in Columbus and a member of the US National Softball Team, a potentially career ending injury at the World Championships puts her dreams on the line. Cora’s had only one focus since she was a kid, and that’s get a medal at the Olympics. Enter Seth Jones. 

Features: Backstory and brief introduction of Seth. Non-graphic depiction of injury; mention of surgery and physical therapy 

Notes: I’ve been kicking this idea around for a while. It started as your typical imagine, but I opted to make it a story with a named character. I added some more detail. Forgive any conversions from “you” and “Y/N” that a missed, because like I said, it was originally going to be a normal imagine. I just kinda jumped right into it with some of it. 

Word Count: 2k

From the time Cora Owens could walk, she had a glove on one hand and a ball in the other. She was a Jersey girl through and through, raised on the Mets, the Jets, and the Devils. Her father had played ball, but injury had sidelined him from the big leagues when she was five. He had coached her through her childhood. If Cora was on a ball field, her father was there watching. 

Summers were made for being out on the ball field. Softball was her life. There was nothing like the smell in the air on a spring morning. The fresh morning dew that signaled a perfect day to play ball.  The ball field was a second home. As a kid, she dreamed of being in the Olympics, only for that dream to end up on the back-burner when it was removed from the Olympics after the ‘08 games. But with the sport set to make a return in 2020, Cora and the women she played with were determined. 

Cora had been on the national team since she was eighteen. Cora had played for Oklahoma State, bringing home the national championship twice while she was there. She had settled in Columbus, Ohio, finding a job that was flexible with her schedule while playing for the national team. 

Until the World Championships in Japan. In a game against Australia, everything came crashing down. Cora had been caught in a rundown. That wasn’t abnormal. What was abnormal was the pain that ran up her leg after she slid back into third. Cora curled up as she bit back a scream. She had broken bones before, but it had never felt that painful. The training staff and coaches jumped into action to get on the field and get to her. 

“Can you sit up?” the trainer asked her. In spite of her pain, Cora nodded and sat up with the trainer’s help.  

“Let’s try getting you to stand now,” the trainer said. With the help of one of the coaches they got Cora up. When she tried to put pressure on her leg, she almost collapsed back down to the ground with the pain in her knee. For the first time since the announcement about softball being back in the 2020 games, Cora saw her dreams slipping from her grasp. She could only imagine the disappointment her father would have.

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When all was said and done, Cora was done for the tournament at the very least. Having to sit on the sidelines while her team played? That wasn’t something she was used to doing. The victory for her was bittersweet. The team had gone to dinner to celebrate, one of their last nights in Japan before heading home. 

“Hey, at least we won, right?” Sarah asked. Cora just glared at the bubbly redhead. Sarah had a knack for trying to find the silver lining in everything. She shrunk back, feeling the annoyance radiating off the captain.

“Yeah. At least we won,” Cora said flatly. She grabbed her crutches from where they sat beside her and went outside. 

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Cora was quiet the whole journey back to the US. Once she was home, she finally let herself break. Her childhood dream was within reach and fate was standing right there, seeming ready to snatch it away from her. Hot tears slid down her face as she curled up on her couch. 

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair!” she cried. She could almost hear her dad’s voice saying “Nothing is fair kiddo. You think it’s a ball and the ump says it’s a strike and you’re out. Sometimes, that’s just the way it goes. You just go out there and do your best next time.” Her dad had always been one to try to come up with an analogy tied to softball, even if it didn’t make much sense. 

“Pops, I need your advice,” she said to the empty room. A sob escaped from her. Days like that were the hardest. Almost on cue, her phone lit up with a call from her mom.

“Hello?” Cora asked, her voice low from crying.

“Hey sweetie, just checking up on you. You never texted that you got home,” her mother’s voice came. 

“Yeah...yeah got home not too long ago. Didn’t mean to make you worry ma. I had things to do the second I walked in the door,” Cora said. ‘Like wallow in self pity,’ she thought. The two fell into conversation, her mother asking about the trip before she asked about the injury. Cora was quiet for a minute.

“Now, Cora Grace, I know you’re not going to just give up just because they think you’re done,” her mother said. Evelyn Owens was many things. She was a loving mother, a devoted wife, and above all else, she was where her daughter got her stubborn streak.

“What if they’re right ma? What if I never play again? What then? If I can’t play, who am I? I want to make Pops proud,” Cora said, the words flying out of her mouth rapidly. Her mother sighed. 

“He would be so proud of you. Cora, even if you can’t play again, he would be so proud of you. Captain of the US National Team, you brought a national title to your school. Baby, you’ve accomplished so much. Your father would be so proud of you, Olympics or no Olympics,” she said. Cora let out a sob.

“I just wish he was here,” she cried. She heard her mother sniffle, a telltale sign that she was crying too.

“Me too, baby, me too,” her mother said quietly. Cora spoke to her mother for a while longer before she had to hang up. As she looked around her apartment, her eyes landed on the picture frame that sat on the entertainment stand by the television. It was one of the last photos she had with her father. She stood in her maroon jersey, her parents on either side while she held a bouquet of flowers on senior day in high school five years prior, the frame inscribed with ‘Cora Owens #19 Class of 2013’ across the bottom. Cora sighed as she stood up and grabbed her crutches, ready to go take a nap. 

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The next morning, Cora awoke bright and early. She still had a few days off work for recovery from travelling. The first thing she did was make an appointment to see an orthopedic doctor. By some miracle, she was able to get an appointment that day. 

She was worried. One of her friends was driving her to her appointments, because driving, as it turned out, was difficult to do with a messed up knee. She filled out the paperwork when she got there and sat waiting, her hand tapping her thigh to the beat of the music that was playing softly in the waiting room. 

“Cora, knock it off,” Cassidy said. 

“Sorry...just, nervous I guess? What if he says I can never play again?” she asked, voicing the fear she’d had since you went down. Cass’ expression softened.

“Cor, I doubt that will happen,” she said, trying to reassure her. 

“I’m not so sure,” Cora replied. She had had a restless night of sleep. Between the pain if she moved the wrong way and the nagging thought that her time as a softball player was done, it had been a long night. 

“Ms. Owens? Dr. Ashford is ready to see you,” a nurse said. They were taking x-rays first. When the doctor came in, he put the images up for her to see. 

“Even with surgery, I’m not sure you’ll be able to play again, at least not competitively, without aggravating the injury. Torn ACLs can be career ending, as I’m sure you know. We’ll have to see how your recovery goes, but with how severe the tear is, I’m not sure a full return will be possible for you,” he said. Cora just nodded. 

She felt like everything was crumbling around her. It was, without a doubt, the worst case scenario for her. Softball was part of her. If she couldn’t lace up her cleats and play anymore, who she? Softball had been her world since she was a child, looking forward to the weather breaking in the spring each year. Now everything was in jeopardy, including her Olympic dreams. 

“So, when can we do this? Because I’m not giving up,” Cora said. 

“The earliest we can get you in for surgery is Monday morning,” he said. She took a breath, trying to steady herself.

“Let’s do it,” she said.

“We’ll get you sorted up front,” he said. Cora took a moment to collect herself. When she returned to the waiting room, she didn’t say a word to Cassidy before setting up the appointment for her surgery. It wasn’t until they got to Cassidy’s car that she broke the silence.

“What’s the verdict Owens?” the shorter woman asked. Cora sighed. This was not a conversation she wanted to have. Not with Cassidy, not with anyone. 

“Surgery. Even then...Dr. Ashford isn’t sure I can play again. I did quite a number on my knee,” Cora said. She was trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. 

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August turned into September. Cora had her surgery and were in the midst of therapy to rehab it. She were frustrated with her progress. It seemed for every step forward, it was another two back with setbacks. 

Cora was at her usual Monday appointment, but this time, one of the other patients had someone with her. He looked vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place it where she knew him from. 

“When can I start playing again?” she asked. Her physical therapist sighed. 

“Cora, you might not play again. We’ve talked about this,” she said. 

“I will play again,” she told her, the tone of her voice even and sure. Cora wouldn’t accept any other outcome. 

“With how much damage was done...going back out there could do more harm,” she explained. Cora just stared her down. 

“I don’t care what happens. All I know is in 2020, I will be at the Olympics. I will be the captain of the team. And we will bring home a gold medal,” Cora snapped. Cora was in a mood and her physical therapist wasn’t about to argue with her. Cora was far from the first stubborn patient she’d had. As her session went on, the woman who was with the other physical therapist took her spot on the next table next to Cora. 

“Oh, don’t pay any mind to her, she’s a bit of a pessimist,” the woman said. Cora laughed.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” she replied. 

“What brings you here? Some kind of exciting story I’m sure,” she said.

“I messed up my knee playing softball in Japan,” Cora told her. 

“That’s definitely more exciting that what I did. I slipped taking the trash out and hurt my knee. Embarrassing really,” she said. The two of them fell into conversation,  the person who had come with her sitting silently. Cora still weren’t sure why he looked familiar.

“Oh, where are my manners. My name is Amy. This is my son, Seth,” she said.

“I’m Cora,” Cora said. That was when it clicked for Cora. Seth was Seth Jones from the Columbus Blue Jackets.  She wasn't sure what to do with that information. She followed hockey, but her main team was the Devils and she wasn’t too up to date on the rosters of other teams. 

“How long have you played softball?” Amy asked. Cora smiled.

“My whole life. I was practically raised on the ball field,” Cora told her. The two of them fell into conversation about her softball career and what had led up to her injury. She was easy to talk to and for once, someone wasn’t telling her to consider the possibility that she wasn’t going to be able to play again. 

Before long, her appointment was over. Cora was waiting for her ride to show up. She hated the loss of independence that came with not being allowed to drive for a while. When Cassidy showed up, Cora just shook her head when she asked how the appointment was.

“If one more person tells me I might never play again, I’m going to scream,” Cora said to her. 

“You do realize that is a possibility, right?” she asked.

“Cass, I’m not accepting it as a possibility until never playing again is the only option left on the table,”she said as Cassidy pulled out of the lot.

[atleastivegotachance-anna-blog]

Unwritten // Self-Para

Anna didn't want to be at school. While her life was everything she had ever imagined, I mean, she was in love for gosh sake, but she wasn't happy. She was happy, with her relationship. Everything was perfect. He was perfect. She just wasn't happy happy. Not the kind of happy that radiates through her and lifts her up everyday.  The kind of happy that made her the smiley bubbly person she always was. No, she had been feeling down, and she knew just how to solve it. She needed to go home.

While a part of her knew this was because her sister was so distant. Anna didn't think that the problem could be fixed with her sister, no. She had to find something else. She would say someone else, but she knew it was her fate to be alone.

After getting home for break, Anna walked up the stairs of their home looking around to the Christmas decorations Anna never took down. The home was dusty and the air felt still. A home that sat empty most of the year would be that way. Walking in through the front door, Anna went to the back and opened the windows letting the cool spring air fill the room.

"Spring cleaning?" She asked the empty room, pulling the hair band off of her wrist and tying her hair up. "Of course, I'll dust, Mom!" She said to the mom she knew she wasn't there. She could pretend though, and she would.

Anna spent the day cleaning the house top to bottom. She dusted, she put away the Christmas decorations, she vacuumed, mopped, and cleaned out the food that had since expired. She picked up her room and the living room. Anna was having so much fun dancing around the house and making it spotless for her mo- for no one. It didn't matter. It felt normal. It felt happy.

Dancing to Natasha Beddingfield, she paused mid-lyric in front of her sister's door. Anna reached out, holding the handle and staring it down. She wanted to go in, but she knew she shouldn't. Things were already tense between her and her sister, Anna couldn't imagine it any worse, but she didn't want to test it either. Anna let go of the doorknob and took a step back. She couldn't go in there. That was off limits, and even in a house she had to herself, it wasn't somewhere she felt like she would ever be allowed.

Anna finished cleaning, put an angel food cake into the oven and closed the windows as the smell of near imminent rain flowed through them. She was content. She was full. She was, fake. Something inside of her knew the day she had spent pleasing her dead parents was nothing. She knew she had made it all up. But she had felt like sunshine, like the color yellow, and she liked that feeling.

Anna waited for the cake to bake and found her way upstairs and into her parent's room. She wanted to be close to them as she let the memory of them become not one of the present, but one of the past again. Opening the door to the largest bedroom in the house Anna revealed a room that had been just as she had left it last. The room was dustier than she remembered, and touching the ring that she now wore around her neck, Anna didn't want to move a thing. It was perfectly preserved. Her parents were still a part of the room. Anna made her way over to the bed, pressing her hand on the familiar quilt that sat on top. It wasn't too long ago when Anna would have nightmares, things she couldn't explain in words even, sometimes just flashes of light, that would leave her crying and trudging her way to this room. Her parents were patient. They would let Anna sleep with them and there she was safe. Anna would stay close, curled up in warmth and safety there.

Looking around the rest of the room she was reminded of little things her parents had left behind. The change her father would empty out of his pockets and put on the dresser, the shoes that her mother would slip on when they made runs to the store when Anna just had the BEST idea for a cake, and the crafts she had made for her parents, a picture frame for Christmas, a jewelry container for mother's day, a handkerchief she embroidered for her father's birthday. There was a lot of things her parents had left behind, and Anna felt like one of them. Anna circled the bed, noticing the book with the bookmark still in it on the nightstand but as she did Anna stubbed her toe on something.

"Shoot!" Anna said softly, not so much in a cry of pain but in embarrassment. She didn't want to touch anything in that room. She felt it should be preserved for as long as they could keep it that way, but looking down Anna had never seen the box before. Curious, Anna bent down and pulled it out. It was a nice sized box, not too big but heavy. Carefully decorated on the outside by herself she assumed, or maybe it was Elsa? Either way, it was covered in crayon art and pictures of people and flowers on the front. Opening it up, Anna wasn't sure what she expected, but a part of her hoped it was something she could find some comfort in. Carefully, Anna peeked inside. A set of 16 leather bound journals were stacked one on top of the other. Picking them up one by one, Anna looked inside, but she felt bad for doing so the second she recognized her mother's handwriting. These weren't just journals. They were her mother's journals. It felt wrong to hold them or to even be near them.

Anna's curiosity though pushed past that feeling with ease. Her mother was gone, and to see her handwriting alone, gave Anna a sense of ease. Flipping through the pages, she saw the dates. 2015 was on top, the last one her mother had written in. Then it was 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011, the numbers continued on until the year before Anna was born, 1999. Anna smiled a little bit, curious as to what kind of shenanigans Elsa had gotten into before Anna had come along. After all, Elsa was surely a much happier person before that day. Anna opened that journal first smiling slightly, as her mother recounted a tale about her father first.

Dear Diary,

I swear he is going to kill me. Today, of all days in the middle of winter, my husband (I just love to say the word husband don't you?) asked if we could go camping. Who did he think I was? I was not built for the outdoors by any means, and more than that I was not built for the English countryside in the middle of winter. Needless to say, I laughed off his ridiculous request. Maybe he will be able to convince me when summer hits.

Anna laughed a little bit, that was a very her father thing to do. Her mother would have never given in but Anna knew that she would have if asked. Anna was an adventurous spirit. Anna flipped through the pages, curious to find one with Elsa, but it was strange. Anna didn't see her name anywhere. Finally, Anna settled on a page, what should have been Elsa's second birthday and when she would have just been pregnant with Anna.

Dear Diary,

Another year is ending and I really think something is missing in our lives. I have always wanted children, and though we keep trying and trying and well, it's not working. The doctors say it's nothing to worry about. They say it'll happen in time. But I'm worried maybe my time has just passed. I don't know. I just wish that there was some way we could fix this.

Anna frowned. She checked the date again. No. This couldn't be right. Elsa had been born in 1997, this was 1999... Anna shook her head, reaching for the next journal. 2000. Anna skipped to her birthday, and again, nothing seemed quite right. She discussed a pool and a party on that day. Things you would not do if you were pushing a baby out of you. Flipping through the pages Anna found one, dated July 29th, about a month after Anna had been born, and that was the first time their names were mentioned.

Dear Diary,

Anna and Elsa. It has a nice ring to it doesn't it? I think that's what we'll call them. Anna and Elsa. They-

The oven beeped off in the distance calling Anna to take the cake out of the oven. Anna slammed the book closed, unsure of what she had just uncovered. Stumbling, Anna took the box and made her way back downstairs. That feeling of sunshine now drained from her. Something wasn't right and Anna wasn't sure how she would figure this one out.

[cassiiann-blog1]

How to watch 'Fast and Furious' movies in the right order

Vin Diesel and Paul Walker. All inclusive Pictures/"The Fast and the Furious" The INSIDER Summary: There are as of now seven films in the "Quick and Furious" franchise. Most fans have likely watched them in the wrong order. You shouldn't watch them in the request they were released. The rectify film arrange is 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 3, 7. There are likewise two authority "Quick and Furious" shorts that occur before the second and fourth motion pictures. There's likewise another film, "Better Luck Tomorrow," which is viewed as a prequel for establishment character Han. In case you're doing a monster fling watch of the "Quick and Furious" motion pictures before the eighth film hits theaters April 14, ensure you're watching them the right way. A reboot to the arrangement that began with the fourth film modified the request in which fans should watch the establishment in the event that they're wanting to see them in sequential request. An extra credits scene after the 6th film flipped the arrangement on its head. Here's the right request you should watch the movies before observing "The Fate of the Furious": "The Fast and the Furious" (2001) "2 Fast 2 Furious" (2003) "Quick Furious 6" (2013) "The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift" (2006) "Incensed 7" (2015) Why should I watch the motion pictures in this order? The closure of the third film in the establishment, "Tokyo Drift," brought about Han's passing after his auto was hit by a Mercedes . At the point when Han appeared alive in well in the establishment's next motion picture, "Quick Furious" in the wake of getting murdered off in the last motion picture, "Tokyo Drift." Widespread The course of events turned out to be all the more clear after Han showed up in the following two motion pictures. Toward the finish of "Quick Furious 6" that Deckard Shaw went to Tokyo to chase down Han for putting his more youthful sibling into a trance like state. Shaw was the driver in the driver's seat of the Mercedes. Shaw in Tokyo calling up Dom in the seventh movie. All inclusive Vin Diesel appears toward the finish of "Tokyo Drift" after Han's passing. In the course of events, this happens in the seventh motion picture. All inclusive The very end of "Tokyo Drift" where Dom visits Tokyo at that point happens in "Enraged 7." We see Dom recover the neckband he provided for Letty from Sean (Lucas Black) . In the event that it sounds confounding, you can watch the Han's passing scene from the finish of "Tokyo Drift" converged with the "Quick 6" scene here . But there's more! In the event that you've just watched the "Quick and Furious" films, you've passed up a major opportunity for about a half hour a greater amount of the establishment. There are likewise two authority "Quick" shorts, one of which was coordinated by Vin Diesel himself. There's additionally another motion picture that is viewed as a definitive prequel to the whole establishment. What are the two "Quick and Furious" shorts? "The Turbo Charged Prelude for 2 Fast 2 Furious" As the title proposes, the short is a prelude to "2 Fast 2 Furious" which demonstrates how Brian O'Connor (Paul Walker) winds up in Miami in the second film. He drives crosscountry making money by road dashing while at the same time avoiding cops subsequent to releasing Dominic toward the finish of "The Fast and the Furious." The prelude indicates how Brian repaired an old Skyline to make it a hustling machine. All inclusive The short contains no exchange, however in the event that you're considering how Brian ended up with the Nissan Skyline he has toward the begin of the "Quick and Furious" spin-off, the six-minute video will indicate you precisely how everything happened. In case you're a "Friday Night Lights" fan, Minka Kelly flies up in a little part too. A lady (Minka Kelly) spots Brian O'Conner in a cafe as he's attempting to keep away from cops. All inclusive You can look at it here . "Los Bandoleros" Spanish for "The Outlaws," "Los Bandoleros" was composed and coordinated by Vin Diesel himself. It's an antecedent to the fourth "Quick and Furious" film and sets up the oil heist toward the begin of the film. The 20-minute preface feels like two scaled down scenes. The main half shows Dom hanging out with family in the Dominican Republic while Han (Sung Kang), from "Tokyo Drift" arrives and noticed that he's never been to Japan by then. He says he met Dom in Mexico so it's reasonable this motion picture happens a bit previously. There's a considerable measure of discuss oil being rare and costly and Dom helps break Tego Leo from jail who later turns into a piece of the group in resulting motion pictures. The last 50% of the short concentrates on Dom's association with Letty (Michelle Rodriguez) after she turns up in the DR. The two street trip out to a shoreline where they wind up investing a considerable measure of energy in a kayak paddling, making out, lying around, dropping out of the kayak, and making out some more. She additionally says she needs to participate on whatever experience Dom's arranging. Letty and Dom set off for some quality time at the beach. Widespread "Los Bandoleros" came as a reward on the Blu-beam and extraordinary release DVD of 2009's "Quick and the Furious." The short film's editorial manager Sonia Gonzalez-Martinez put the whole short film on Vimeo. You can see it here . The informal prequel movie "Better Luck Tomorrow" Sung Kang as Han in "Better Luck Tomorrow." Vital Pictures/MTV In the event that you truly need to go down the "Quick and Furious" rabbit gap there's one more motion picture you should look at, 2003's independent film "Better Luck Tomorrow." The motion picture is from "Tokyo Drift" executive Justin Lin. While its not authoritatively partnered with the "Quick and Furious" establishment, its generally thought to be a prequel story for Han (Sung Kang), who's presented in "Tokyo Drift." Why? All things considered, in light of the fact that "Better Luck Tomorrow" likewise stars Sung Kang as a character named Han amid his secondary school years. Plus, both Lin and Kang have affirmed the character is the same crosswise over both arrangement. "Yes, it is. Justin and I generally He needed to keep the treasury going," Kang told Crave . "He was continually pondering where the characters follow secondary school. The Daric Loo character really went into his film Annapolis, and afterward in Tokyo Drift we have Virgil too from 'Better Luck Tomorrow' also." Lin additionally affirmed it in a meeting with ComingSoon.net saying its been an enjoyment inside joke . Here's the full request you should watch the arrangement in: "Better Luck Tomorrow" (2003) "The Fast and the Furious" (2001) "The Turbo Charged Prelude for 2 Fast 2 Furious" "2 Fast 2 Furious" (2003) "Los Bandoleros" (2009) "Quick Furious 6" (2013) "The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift" (2006) "Irate 7" (2015)

[djrelentless]

“Circles And Old Habits”

December 19, 2013 at 5:11pm

I am finally back in Toronto. The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of events and emotions. I started December with one of my most ambitious endeavors to date. I put together an awards show to honor ten people from the community who either helped raise awareness or money in the fight against HIV/AIDS. I am happy to say that the POZ-TO Awards at Crews & Tangos were a success on World AIDS Day. It was amazing to see so many people come out from our diverse Gay Community to celebrate and help raise just under $1200 for Toronto's People With AIDS Foundation. What a way to close out the year!

Then it was the mad rush to get everything ready for probably one of the most important trips for myself and my husband, John.

Earlier this year I wrote about reconnecting with my family in Florida. I told you about not being in contact with my family for almost 24 years. I wrote about my strained relationship with my father and a Thanksgiving Dinner back in 1991 that would change the course of all our lives.

Well, after spending the better part of the spring, summer and fall of 2013 writing and calling my step-mother (Teresa), my uncle (Rudolph), my brothers (Anthony & Anton) I decided that I really wanted to go see them around Christmas. I had some gigs scheduled in New York City and Asbury Park. So, I booked a couple of cheap airline tickets to Tampa, Florida. I was taking my husband home for the holidays! Wow….I never thought I would be uttering that phrase in my life. This would be a trip back to two of my homes of the past. John had been to the New York area with me before, but going to a family reunion at my Uncle Rudolph's house in Florida was a big deal.

So, let's start with the trip to The Big Apple and New Jersey. Arriving in New York City felt like home. Seeing my friends like Marshall, Andrew, Adrian, Neil, Jermaine and Kale was a real nice way to start off. Tried to go to some of my old haunts like The Monster and The Hangar, but I'm afraid too much time has past. Both places were just the mere shells of themselves. I didn't recognize any of the small attendees (except for maybe a couple of die-hard regulars sprinkled here and there). Those places of old employment didn't feel like home anymore.

I called a few of my old friends but their lives seemed to have moved on in different directions. As I explained to my husband, the longer I stay away the further I am in most's memories. But oddly enough, a theme for our trip was starting in New York and New Jersey. And the theme was "Circles & Old Habits". From friends repeating old patterns in relationships to others not recognizing that they have addiction problems……some things never change.

Somehow, Asbury Park always seems to be the same. I guess it is because it is a little smaller than NYC. Spinning at Georgies Bar is always a treat. The reputation and legacy of DJ Relentless still holds up there. Unfortunately, the cold weather kept a lot folks in (and truthfully….I don't blame 'em). If I didn't have to be out, I wouldn't either. And no visit to Asbury Park is complete without the late night after the bar talk to catch up with David Hoffman. Him and Marshall White are probably my oldest friends (not meaning in age, but as in longest time knowing each other) in the Tri-State area.

So, then it was off to Atlantic City to fly out to Florida. To tell the truth, I was a little nervous. Talking to someone over the phone or through facebook is one thing, but seeing them face to face is another. Memories of the reasons I left Tampa came flooding back. And that insecure kid who so desperately wanted acceptance reared his head on the plane ride down. But as soon as I saw my Uncle Rudolph waiting for us at the airport, a sense of accomplishment rushed over me. The look in his eyes told me that I had done the right thing by coming home.

Finally, I could show my husband where I came from. The places I grew up and the food I always brag about. As we drove through the city, tons of memories that I had not thought about in years came back. Stories of my youth poured from my mouth. I'm sure John was sick of it by the second the day. And finally, I was going to find out what had happen over the past two decades in my family.

Me and the saviors of our family....Uncle Rudolph & Aunt Ruthie. These two are the ones who are trying keep everyone together.

First, I have to say that my Uncle Rudolph and my Aunt Ruth are the glue that holds what's left of my family together. I applaud them for putting "Family First" regardless what happens. After some of the things they shared with me, I don't know if I could do what they have done. My father's side of my family is a big bundle of "Circles & Old Habits". And the expression of "history repeating itself" is so fitting. My father, his mother, my Aunt Kathy and even the man who got me into DJ-ing (Uncle Herb) were not nice people. And the disfunction that they wallowed in has ruled the development of their off-spring. My brothers, Vaughn, Adrain, Anton, and Anthony are all following in my fathers foot-steps. All with kids too early in life, all consumed with sex and all making mistakes that are gonna haunt them later in life. Except for the kids, I am guilty of these things too. But fortunately, I stopped and changed my cycle. I have a different perspective about my life. In a way….I kinda feel like Uncle Rudolph's approach rubbed off on me. We both have the ability to see the bigger picture and what's important in life.

My Uncle Rudolph and Aunt Ruth invited everyone over to their house for a barbecue. They spend two days preparing all the food for that day. Chicken, beef ribs, pork ribs, potato salad, collard greens….hell, there was so much food I couldn't sample it all! Oh….and the best macaroni & cheese I've had in a long time! See my brothers, cousins (Tarkesha, Tula, Cookie and Cornell), nieces and nephews was such a treat. We laughed and reminisce all day. It was a shame that everyone didn't make it over at the same time. It would have been great to get a group photo. And John had such a great time meeting everyone. As a Canadian, John was really enjoying my family's accents and sensibilities. I think Aunt Ruth was his favorite. It was wonderful being respected and accepted. Too bad, Teresa (my step-mother) was not well enough to make over that day. So, we went to see her the next day.

But I guess the one brother that I was most disappointed with was Vaughn. He did not want to see me at all. I found out that his first born son is also gay. In some strange way he blames me. He treats his son exactly like my father treated me. He has nothing to do with him. I hope that he does not have the same fate as my father. I am a firm believer that God puts people and situations in your life to teach you how to love. It's just a shame that not everyone gets that lesson. Perhaps Vaughn thinks because I was so "out" about being gay so young that I set a bad example. But from my mother's side of the family, I was taught to just be me. That's all I can be. So, if that meant that I wanted o wear a wig and lip-sync songs for the family at Christmas….so be it. No one told me that I was wrong. My grandmother (Carrie-Mae) just let me be who I was and loved me unconditionally.

It was really heartbreaking to hear the demise of my Uncle Herbert. He went blind as a teenager, but was always talented in music. My Uncle Rudolph told me that he graduated from college with degrees in child psychology. I never knew that. I only knew him as a DJ and musician. It was terrible to know that he was robbed and beaten up so badly that he had to be put on life support. And basically it was my father's fault for leaving him alone with a stranger in the house. He was a brilliant man and he taught me so much about music. It's hard to believe that he is gone.

And the last disturbing thing to finally see the last mother figure in my life being mistreated my her sons. Teresa was a very important part of my life when I was trying to know my father back in the early 80's. She recognized that I was gay and tried to get him to accept it. I witnessed her taking mental and physical abuse from this man. I watched her get up and go to work to feed me, Adrian, Anton, Zuberi (my mother's other child) and Anthony while my father would lay around drinking some days. So, to see her not well and her own sons not making sure that she is comfortable and living better was just upsetting! This is what I meant about "Circles & Old Habits". My brothers are doing the same things my father did and don't even realize it. The disfunction continues with no end in sight. These lives are going round and round in circles.

Now, some would say…..why are you putting your family out there on "front street" like this? Well, I am hoping they read this and do something about it. I know that I am risking alienating myself all over again, but something also occurred to me while I was visiting. I am the oldest. After my Uncle Rudolph, I am the oldest male on my father's side of the family. It is my responsibility to step up to the plate and do what I can. I cannot be a father to my brothers. Too much time has past. Attitudes and habits have been formed. I can only set an example and lend my experiences to the fabric of what is our family.

Another interesting thing that my aunt and uncle shared with me was the last monarch of the family was gay also. My Great Uncle Luther was a closeted homosexual. So, it is so funny to me that some of the men in my family have issues with gay people. There are plenty of us in the family and have been for years.

So, I shall return to Tampa more often. There was a time that I was not interested in ever seeing Florida again. Now, I think I have to spend some more time there…..for my family and most importantly for me. Plus, I also found out that I have a couple of gay relatives who I think could benefit from having me around. I wanna make sure that they don't have to grow up with all the baggage that my father put on me. So, Uncle Jade and Aunt Johnny are gonna be a part of your lives.

The long weekend in Tampa seemed to have flown by. I did get to reconnect with my probably one of my longest running friends, Rossie. It's hard to believe that I met him back in the late 70's. It is great to know that some friends may come and go, but others are there for life. Hopefully, LaKiria & Ashley (girlfriends of my brothers) will be added to that list of life long friends.

So, we rushed backed to NYC for my last gig this trip. I was spinning at an East Village landmark, The Cock. I never really had a huge following in the East Village. I built my reputation on the Westside of Manhattan (Greenwich Village, Chelsea, Hell's Kitchen, Harlem). But thanks to another good friend, Shameless I think I am beginning to lay the foundation in other circles. New work relationships and new followings are being forged. I like it!

This trip really showed me that I made the right decisions in my life. I'm glad that I left Tampa when I did. That circle of disfunction had to be broken. I would not be the person I am today if I had not stepped out on faith and took a chance to change my life. And now I have a completely new life. I have continued to be blessed.