#there is more to this city than just those tiny neighborhoods that are already improved!

[fedoranon]

Oh yeah!! I voted today!!!!

[choco-glow]

Fall Like Rain On Sunday, Pt. 11

The route to Steph’s apartment was a little bit difficult in a truck, but with the little bit of time he had to spare, he found a decent place to park in one of the quiet parking lots provided by the city, surprised to find a spot under an awning for a change. Jason loaded up his reuseable bags; it was a bit of a walk to Steph’s place from here, but with his jacket over the bags and his hood up, he was mostly protected, and this rain was a gentle one, not one of the hurricane-force bastards from the South. Boots splashing through puddles as he walked, Jason made his way through the Narrows, checking on everyone he passed with careful glances.

Everyone’s looking good…that’s a relief. Then again, Steph and I have been working hard to get people the help they need…and having Pops foot the bill goes a long way. It was the agreement that Bruce had eagerly signed with Jason; Red Hood would stop most of his killing, and Batman would fund the repair work needed to get the Narrows and Gotham back up to where they needed to be. Not that Bruce wasn’t already doing that, but having his and Steph’s eyes and ears in the thick of things made the job easier, and he’d already admitted that even his “Lefty” persona wasn’t half as good at sussing out what needed done as Jason’s quiet questioning or Steph’s cheerful chatter.

He did try his best, but throwing money at things down here ain’t the way to fix things…he knows that now, thankfully, and hey, he is listening. And on top of that, I think he enjoys the challenge of fixing things without making it feel gentrified. That had been Jason’s worry; that commercial investors would flood the area and ruin things for the people just trying to survive…but Bruce had had other plans for them. I think his lawyers were gnawing on their desks in boredom; siccing them on the scummy landlords and assholes trying to take over was exactly what they needed. Jason grinned to himself as he waved to the local bakery shop owner, taking a break from her work and sipping a cup of coffee, flour dusting her dark hair and apron.

Instead, Bruce had quietly bought out all the landlords in the area, installed a set of vetted managers to act as landlords with a dedicated maintenance staff…and made the entirety of the Narrows rent-controlled for the next fifty years. Jason had been awestruck when Bruce had revealed his plan, and he still remembered how worried the old man looked, hands clenched together, lips pursed thin.

‘“Jason…do you think it’s a good idea? I plan on leveling out the rents so that they’re reasonable, and every place will get a renovation, with free stays at hotels while the work is done…and if there’s a dedicated staff, I figure that way we can tackle problems before they become disasters. And no one person controls the rent…it all goes into the maintenance budget and to pay the managers, and the managers work as a team.”’

‘“…if you weren’t my dad, I’d kiss you right now.”’ Jason grinned to himself at Bruce’s blush of pleasure and happiness, and hummed a little as he gently kicked a soccer ball back into a yard. I’m sure it’d grate on people’s nerves to still have someone running it all, but…well, Pops does know how to pick his managers, and so far, there’s been nothing but good reviews. Nearly every tenant he’d talked to had been ecstatic. Between rent control, utilities dropping because things were getting fixed, and quality of life improving, the Narrows had become a place of hope, rather than despair…and he chuckled as he almost walked right past Steph’s building, long legs already warmed up for a jaunt around the neighborhood.

Later, Red; your girl’s gonna be wanting those waffles. He walked up the stoop and keyed in her visitor code; usually, he went in through the roof, but well, that was…kind of a dick move during the daylight, and this kept him from being caught. With care, he shook himself free of water before stepping inside, wiped his boots on the mat, and started up the stairs, wondering if he should call in a favor to get the elevator fixed. It wasn’t like stairs were hard, but he knew this building had a lot of elders…I’ll ask around, see if anyone’s got a job for it yet. Probably, it’s one of Bruce’s buildings now, and it can be hard to find a qualified tech with the time to spare.

As he crested the third floor, he mused a little more. Though, given the enrollment numbers at GothTech, I have a feeling that we’ll have plenty of engineers and handyfolks within the next year. Giving kids and adults a free certification in whatever they want through vocational school has been a godsend for the whole city; we need qualified people doing the work, and with Wayne Industries paying them the right amounts, we’re getting the kind of numbers that Gotham U wishes they had. Sure, there’s grants and stuff, but…well, GothTech doesn’t have complicated history with the Maroni and Falcone clans.

Hell, even Steph had transferred into the nursing program at GT, and Jason was seriously considering the automotive mechanics classes, if for nothing else to fix the goddamn sputter in his motorcycle. Only so many Youtube videos I can watch…He grumbled to himself as he made it up to the eight floor, hardly even panting despite his legs burning a little, and he knocked on Steph’s door with a sigh of relief, shelving his thoughts for a later day. Digging into his bag as he heard her approach, he held up the Eevee plate with a winsome grin on his face, and when Steph opened the door, her squeal of delight was the best sound he’d heard all day.

“Eevee!”

“Saw it and thought of you, baby. Shall we waffle?” Her laughter was all Jason needed, and he scooped her up into a kiss as she pulled him inside…but the smirk on her face as she pulled away just made him grin even bigger.

“Better get to work, Hood, I’m expecting only the best golden waffles.”

“And only the best golden waffles for my lady. With sprinkles.”

“…I love you.”

“Love you too, Stephie.” She dragged him to the tiny kitchen, where apparently some cleaning had gone on this morning; dishes were freshly washed in the drainer and the counter had been cleared off of all of Steph’s normal debris, which made Jason smile fondly as he set down his finds on her tiny table. Together, they unboxed the waffle maker and wiped down the plates, and Steph pulled out a mixing bowl and spatula while Jason laid out the ingredients and got the maker warming, spraying it lightly with a bit of oil. With her direction, he started mixing up the batter while Steph surveyed the haul in front of her.

“Hmmm…”

“What sounds good first, sweetheart?”

“Well, I had berries last night…I think chocolate chips this morning!” He chuckled and set the bowl down for her to dump two heaping cupfuls of chips into the batter, stirring it expertly before stealing the half-cup to start ladling in batter, remembering what he’d looked up last night before he’d crashed. “Ohhhh those look so good.”

“Hell yeah they do, and I’m not normally a chocolate fan to that extent.” She kissed him and he melted into her kisses, the last vestiges of his nightmare from this morning finally breaking away. Something must’ve shown on his face, because she cupped his cheek, eyes worried, and he just pressed a kiss to her palm, nuzzling in close.

“You okay, Jay?”

“Mmn…just a really bad nightmare this morning.” Jason didn’t have to say what from; she knew. She knew better than anyone…it was what had made them really bond when they’d first met, when he was so angry still from…well, everything, and hadn’t been inclined to care about anyone in the Batfamily. Steph, however, had dug in under his skin, demanded that he at least talk things out…and he pulled her into a hug, rocking her close. “Thought of you, though, and that helped.” Her smile was brilliant against his skin, and he pulled back just enough to kiss her…when the stink of burned batter filled the kitchen and they both sprang apart with a yelp, flipping over the waffle maker and digging out the now charred waffle.

“Oh shit, shit shit…”

“It’s okay, babe, I shoulda paid more attention…” Steph cracked open her window, and Jason was glad for the cleansing scent of the rain outside while he tossed the lost waffle into the trash, fanning the smell out with a towel. They surveyed the wafflemaker, making sure it wasn’t toast, and with a sigh of relief, he cleaned off the crusted bits and laughed a little. “…Well, that was exciting.” Steph gave a chuckle, and they kissed again, this time with all the time in the world.

“Shall we try again?”

“Fuck yeah, we’re not quitters.”

[slapmeagain-blog]

COVID-19 LIFE

18 May 2020

How can it be 12 days since I last posted?  It must be the distraction of improving weather, the amount of time I am spending on the garden, and getting ready to enjoy the outdoor season: bringing all the outdoor furniture up from the basement, cleaning the porch, patio and deck, putting covers back on all the cushions, moving all the plants that have been hibernating in the sun room out of doors; ferns for the urns on the front steps, and hanging from hooks above the balustrades on the porch, potted palms next to the wooden furniture facing Pearl street.  There are the big self-watering planters filled with semi-tropicals on the deck off the sun room and the giant urns on the blue-stone patio.  New plantings in the bare spots in the flowers beds, potting a new lime tree, an on-going losing battle with crabgrass and other unworthy competitors to my lawn.  I could have a booth selling dandelion leaves for salad at the Wall Street farmer’s market on Saturday morning if I had the time.  Re-seeding bare patches under the copper beech tree and the corner near the vegetable patch, seeding herbs and greens in tiny compostable pots that have to be misted twice a day.  Cutting away dead leaves and growth from everything and moving the potted plants from beneath the living room windows to their appointed positions out of doors.  Ahh....

The weather had been so cool, damp and dreary, that I had to take matters into my own hands and say enough is enough, that it was about time we moved from bare hints of spring to full on spring mode on May 14th, mainly to keep Marco from packing his bags and moving back to Tuscany, where temperatures are already well into the high seventies and eighties.  Temperatures here rose as ordered.  We hit 80 a couple of days ago which has delayed Marco’s imminent migration.  I even enjoyed a pitcher of iced tea!

Meanwhile, in the wider world, 90,000 Americans are dead, and there have been 1,400,000 confirmed cases of the virus. 36,000,000 Americans have filed unemployment claims (Marco and I are not eligible) and armed civilian militia have overrun the Michigan state  legislature and shut down Oregon’s demanding that the governments re-open the economies. Who are these people?  They are clearly a small but vocal minority of the disparate groups of supremacists, right wing Christians, and hard line second amendment defenders who are being encouraged by the man in the white house (note to my great-grandchildren: many people in these times refuse to even speak the name of the current resident of the White House.  Something we borrowed as a form of protest from the Harry Potter novel series where people were afraid to even mention the name of the antagonist -- Voldemort.)  We’re not ‘afraid’ to mention his name, we just feel that he shouldn’t be given any form of legitimacy, not as a man, and certainly not at as a president.

Closer to home, here in Kingston, NY, a barber in a hipster-retro shop on John Street, has been cutting hair on the sly, in defiance of the shutdown, and has been diagnosed with the virus.  Officials are searching for anyone who might have had their haircut by him (eye roll). On the brighter side, Liberato (Marco’s niece's fiance was finally able to legally open his brand spanking new barber shop in San Querico (Tuscany) this week and is booked solid for two weeks -- 97 appointments.  It’s curious that the Kingston barber made international headlines.  We heard about it from as far afield as Siena (IT) and Geneva (CH, not NY!)  Most people are taking the shutdown seriously, but many are not, and it’s a very divisive topic.  One security guard was shot, in Michigan, for telling a customer to put on a mask or leave the store.  Another liquor store owner in Flint (Michigan clearly has anger management issues) was shot in the ankle for the same reason.  Many people feel that the lock down is a useless exercise, that we should just open up and get it over with.  It’s not killing as many as we thought it might, and cases have started to fall off in the worst hit places.  But the whole point was to ‘flatten the curve’ to prevent the health care system from getting overwhelmed and to protect the vulnerable.  That part has worked.  So where do you begin, and how much is enough, to get the economy started again without creating new spikes and hot-spots of the disease and risk overwhelming the hospitals?  The scientists argue that it can’t be done safely until we have tested most of the population to get a handle on how many people have already had it.  Supposedly, 60% is a magic number for ‘herd immunity,’ above which the virus will slowly die out because it can’t sustain itself in a smaller pool, but that assumes that once you’ve had it, you are immune.  The jury is still out on that.  So much information, so little reliability.  Example: Marco read in the Italian press today that the US had come up with a vaccine and was testing it.  Here, however, the medical professionals are saying we are at least a year, maybe two, away from a vaccine.  It’s no wonder people are acting crazy.  Anyone can  pretty much find someone out there who is saying exactly the thing that appeals to their fears and some of us act on those fears, with the encouragement of the 12-year old in chief, who says he is now taking hydroychloroquine, the efficacy of which is questionable and is said to have potentially harmful side effects.  A couple of months ago, a couple in Arizona took it after he touted it.  The husband died and the wife was hospitalized in serious condition.  Well, let’s hope he manages to kill or incapacitate himself soon.

That’s plenty on that topic.  I don’t know if it is because we are safely ensconced in Kingston in a big house surrounded by lawns and stone walls and flowers that I don’t feel particularly under threat by the virus.  But at the same time, I don’t feel the loss of human contact (other than with Cole, Ashe and Carter and the hugs). My time is my own, and I’m enjoying finding ways to fill it -- cooking, reading, planning for reopening my hospitality locations, gardening, studying, watching movies....  My biggest fears, really, are economic.  When this is over, what will my investments be worth, what will the townhouse in Brooklyn be worth, how will I support myself, help Marco, and leave something to my son and grand kids when I go?  Up until now those were not serious issues for me. 

 I do miss eating out in places where I know people or places where the food is particularly transcendent, but cooking at home and really investing in keeping food interesting, has been a pleasant challenge.  And as I settle in to lock down -- it’s been two months now -- I find I am seeking less amusement in martinis, mushrooms, and space cookies, and more in reading, writing, studying and cooking and actually having a schedule for those activities.  I also love the efficiency of online visual visits, both personal and for study and business.  I’m staying in closer contact with so many of my friends than I did before lockdown.  We have a call tonight at 7 p.m. with Joe and Vicki in LA which I am looking forward to, and we are doing a weekly family call on Sundays with the kids, Roy and CT in Hawaii, Maud in Brooklyn, Hedy and Firth and M and me here in Kingston.  

Hawaii, by the way, is pretty safe.  And here, in Ulster County, we’ve had fewer than 40 deaths and 1500 cases.  And considering how many people like me have fled from the city to Kingston, I’m surprised it’s not higher.  East Hampton, for example, was a hot spot because of all the rich NYC types that have homes there and left the city.  Sorry, sorry.  I promised to stop.  Times article says that wealthier neighborhoods in NYC have lost 40% of their population!  I’m so glad the kids are at our place to keep an eye on things.  And Marco’s finding a rhythm, too.  Check it out.

I finally plodded though to the end of Thomas Campanella’s book, “Brooklyn: The Once and Future City”.  It was very, very informative, even if many parts of it would be far more interesting to civic planners and architects than to casual readers, but it really did put a lot in perspective on Brooklyn’s economic and social trajectory through nearly 300 years with some interesting segues into geological formations that impact the place still today.  Sadly, as interesting and appealing a place as Brooklyn is, very little scholarly work has been done on it’s history.  Until very recently, the focus has always been on Manhattan.  It did correct a number of my own misconceptions.  Importantly, despite the fact that Robert Moses was not thrilled at the design for the proposed Dodger Stadium at the intersection of Flatbush and Atlantic Avenues, it doesn’t appear that he, on his own, could have stopped it.  Research suggests that it was the disappearing fan base (fleeing the crime-ridden city in the 50s and 60s) that made the move to LA more an economic decision than has otherwise been speculated.  And I’m no fan of Robert Moses. The study group, in the end, actually wanted to put the stadium complex in Park Slope, bordered by Sterling, Bergen, Vanderbilt and Boerum Place.  What a disaster that would have been on so many levels!!  Not the least of which would have been the United Jet that crashed in that spot in 1960. And the Weisberg’s wouldn’t have been my neighbors for 34 years because their house would have been razed.

Other non-essential slightly amusing details. Deer ‘resistant’ plants are not deer ‘proof’.  And our herd doesn’t seem to be made up of fussy eaters. So, we are frustrated by the number of our plants that are being ravaged.  Apparently, based on an internet search, Marco has discovered that piss and cayenne pepper are good home garden deer deterrents!  Well...  I am putting it to the test with a mixture of BOTH.  I’ll keep you posted on results.  (I won’t go into detail on how the mixture is obtained/prepared, interesting as it may be.)  Hungry?  Peanut butter, honey and banana -- not since I was 10 years old.  Think I’ll write a kids’ Covid cookbook!

[cuefunkymusic]

Never be mine || chapter 1

Keicho Nijimura/Okuyasu Nijimura x reader // childhood friends self insert

chapter 1 (you’re here, dude) | chapter 2 (s o o n)

Word count- 1618 Oh boy, I haven’t written a) fanfiction or b) angst in m o n t hs so I'm probably super rusty at this stuff, so sorry if it ends up being bad later :’) Feedback is VERY appreciated!! Thanks for reading in advance.

|-under the cut-|

Looking through the car window, you couldn’t help but take in all of the sights. Some of them you remembered as a child, though some of them were completely new to you. Morioh had certainly changed in the past 8 years.

It was only recently that your mom had decided to make the move into Morioh. After hearing about your grandfather’s recent death, you were both distraught, and things seemed to go even more downhill.

Last week, your mom had found out that In his will he had written that his house would be inherited by her. The apartment you and your mother used to live in was run down. The outer city was a complete wasteland- trash was everywhere, the terrain was desolate, and it seemed like the place had been devoid of all hope. Your mother didn’t even bat an eye before deciding to make the move.

In comparison, Morioh was such a change from the city, and a willing one, too. Tranquility and life seemed to exude from the town, and the whole place filled you with hope. Years before your parents had divorced, you had all lived in Morioh together. After things had fallen apart, you moved to the outer city with your mother. The last thing you were expecting was to be back here, 8 years later.

After a few moments of taking in the scenery, the car turned left into a driveway. Looking out the window, your eyes were met with a small house, with a pathway leading up to the main door with a cute little fenced gateway. It was tiny but homey. Although in comparison, anything would be better than your old apartment.

Your mom parked the car, and you stepped out, looking around. It was a bright, sunny day, and you could hear birds singing joyfully while a soft breeze blew. For summer, it wasn’t as hot as you expected it to be- the temperature seemed to be just right, and not uncomfortably hot.

“Hey, y/n, can you help me with the boxes in the trunk?” Turning around, you took a box from your mother as she grabbed another. The two of you walked up the steps of the house, and your mom went in front of you, taking out a key from her pocket.

You watched as she inserted it into the lock, and the door opened. You weren’t expecting anything in particular, but as you walked into the house you were taken aback.

Everything about the house seemed so cozy and homey. You immediately felt at ease as you walked around in the main room, and even though it was empty, the house seemed to welcome you.

As you set down a box, you sighed as you took in the sight of the interior. A staircase lead up to the second floor, only to three rooms. The other rooms seemed relatively small but livable. Walking around the house, you counted four, five other rooms on the main floor.

Going back to the room your mother was in, you smiled. “This is such a nice place,” you mused, wondering what room you would end up claiming as your own.

“It surely is an improvement from that old apartment,” your mom said, walking over to the room on her right. “I’m actually not sure if we’ll have enough furniture to fill the whole house.”

“Didn’t grandpa also issue money to be distributed to us, to help with both the move and the furniture?” you asked, looking over to your mother, who was currently walking around the house.

“Yes, there was. Although, I don’t think that there was too much of it left over after the move. At least to buy furniture.” You frowned. Perhaps there would be a working opportunity for you to gather money for more furniture?

Looking out the window, you could see that the other people in the neighborhood were outside. Of course, they must have been notified that someone new was moving in. You grimaced as you remembered that at one point or another, you’d have to meet all of them.

When you and your mother lived in the outer city, you hadn’t had the best experiences with your neighbors. Of course, this wasn’t an apartment, so it was different, but it didn’t change the fact that no matter where you lived, it seemed like your neighbors were always against you in some way.  

The people that had lived above you always threw parties, and whenever you tried to complain to them they would curse you out drunkenly, telling you to go back to your apartment. When you had reported it to your landlord, they were just as useless, saying there wasn’t really any use in stopping them.

Later, you had found out that those people had bribed said landlord to let them keep throwing parties. The people next to you weren’t any better. They would always leave their stuff outside your door in the hallway, and again, the landlord didn’t seem to do a single thing about it.

Everyone that was there already seemed well adjusted, while you and your mother were just the newbies in the complex. Even though several years had passed, it seemed like your neighbors had never really accepted you.

You hoped that the new neighbors would be better, although deep down, you had a feeling they would be just as worse.

Almost as if it was on cue, you heard a knock at the door. This early? It had only been 30 minutes since you and your mother had just gotten here. Couldn’t the neighbors wait? Before you could protest, your mother walked by you and opened the door.

Looking over to see who it was, you saw a woman, probably in her late thirties, with a boy who seemed around your age. They both had strikingly dark purple hair, and the boy had his hair in a neat pompadour.

“Hey there, it’s nice to meet you!” your mother smiled as she shook the hand of the woman, and then who you could assume was her son. Unwillingly, you walked over next to your mother to greet your new neighbors.

“Oh? Who’s this?” The woman asked as she looked at you, smiling. Before you could speak, your mother spoke instead. “This is my daughter, y/n.”

The woman held out her hand to you, and you shook it, noting her very firm grip. “Nice to meet you. I’m Tomoko Higashikata, and this here is my son, Josuke.” She gestured to Josuke, who stood next to her.

“Hi Miss l/n, y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” Before you could really do anything else, your mom and Ms. Higashikata started talking, seemingly endlessly.

If anything, your mom was quite a talker. Sometimes, you had to pull her away from conversations in order to talk to her, or even leave a place. Luckily, it wasn’t like she knew many people she could talk to for hours. Until now.

You and Josuke stood there for a few minutes awkwardly, as your mothers conversed. Shifting your weight, you pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, trying to start up a conversation. “So, uh… how long have you lived here for?”

“I’ve lived here for… pretty much all of my life, actually!” Josuke’s voice seemed lighthearted and humorous, and something about him just seemed to exude friendliness. Had you actually lucked out with neighbors this time?

After a moment, you continued the conversation. “Oh, nice. My mother and I actually used to live here in Morioh eight years ago. We only moved back now,” you said, a smile creeping up on your face unbeknownst to you.

“Cool, cool. So do you know if you’re gonna attend the public high school here?”

Oh, yeah. School started soon. You had almost forgotten- you had been enjoying your break so much you weren’t even keeping track of time anymore. Hopefully, said high school was close to your house. Where you lived before, it was such a long walk to get there.

“Yep. I’m starting my first high school year at that public high school. What about you?”

“Oh, me too!” Josuke was smiling ear to ear, giddy with excitement. “Maybe we’ll have the same classes together!”

For a neighbor, Josuke seemed very friendly. Something that you would normally doubt. But you could tell that his friendliness was genuine. Turned out that you had lucked out with neighbors after all.

“Hopefully so!” you agreed, actually looking forward to starting school for once. At least you’d be able to meet more people, and even if you didn’t, you had Josuke.

Before you could say anything else, you heard your mother start to say goodbye to Ms. Higashikata.

“Well, Josuke, we’d best get going by now.” Josuke’s mother smiled warmly to your mother, waving goodbye. “It was nice to meet you two! Hopefully we’ll be able to talk more!”

As they started to walk down the steps, you heard Josuke’s voice yell out as you saw him turn towards you, waving wildly.

 “Bye, y/n!”

“...Bye, Josuke!” you waved, watching him and his mother walk down the street and back into their own house.

“Hey, y/n! Can you help me with these boxes?” hearing your mom’s voice from outside, you opened the door to help her unload stuff from the moving van. You smiled to yourself as you walked over to her.

Luckily, the Higashikata family seemed nice. Even if the other neighbors weren’t as kind, at least you still had them. Lifting up a box full of clothes, you walked back inside the house, setting them down.

Even though it hadn’t started, you had a feeling this school year was gonna be great.

[something-tofightfor]

Ryan Brenner Headcanon List

This is for my Neon Lights/Just a Place Ryan Brenner. 

Tagging: @the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @benbarnestongue @lexxierave @suchatinyinfinity @obscurilicious

Enjoy! 

Tell me something we should know about him, but you’re worried no one will ask or care or want to know. This is me asking, caring, and wanting to know.

Ryan’s middle name is Abraham. He was born on March 14th, 1985. He’s right handed. He sleeps on his right side or on his stomach when he’s really comfortable, one knee bent, the other leg stretched out. He’s used to sleeping fully clothed - sitting up - but is most comfortable sleeping in a light pair of pajama pants and nothing else.

Ryan’s favorite color is olive green. His favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip. His favorite meal is chicken and dumplings. Ryan prefers to sleep with a window open, even in the winter, because he’s used to fresh air from the trains. Ryan got his driver’s license the day he turned 16, and though he hasn’t always had insurance, he’s kept the license valid because he knew that he’d need it for potential jobs.

The only foreign country he’s ever been to is Canada, and that was just to get through to Alaska. He wants to go to Mexico and Europe, and getting a passport has always been a dream for him.

The only dollar he’d never spend is the one that was given to him as his first tip, and it’s folded into a teeny tiny square and he keeps it tucked behind a picture of his mom that he has in his wallet. 

What was middle school Ryan like? Was he in the band? Did he play trumpet? He’s got the lips for it. Did he play percussion? Was he a good student? Average student with genuine curiosity? Little too concerned with stuff at home to be a student? Did he play baseball? Football? Lacrosse? Did he wear polo shirts? Can he read music?

Middle school Ryan… this is a good one. Ryan was in band - well, he started out in choir, like the rest of the kids, because it was a part of the curriculum, and his mom couldn’t afford to buy or rent him an instrument. He could sing well, and the choir teacher - Ms. Mercer - took a special interest in him, giving him solos in performances and things like that. She caught him one day after school in the music room, sitting in front of the piano, playing random notes… and because she knew that he could sing, asked if he’d ever tried to play the piano.

When he said no, she decided that she was going to help him learn, and offered to teach him after school and during recess - with his mom’s permission, of course. She gave it, and Ryan learned to play the piano slowly but surely over the course of 6th and 7th grade, while also continuing to sing. He learned to read music during this period, too. And because he was really interested, he picked it up very quickly.

Occasionally, he’d play the guitar, too - but he didn’t pick that up until a few years later.

In school, Ryan was a smart, attentive kid. He liked being able to give the right answers to the teachers, liked to learn things, but didn’t like to read much - not because he wasn’t good at it, but because he learns better via hands on experiences. He catches on to things very quickly and retains information.

As he got older, and his home life changed (mom’s new marriage), Ryan’s focus became music instead of academics, because it allowed him to focus on something that he could create, something that would make him feel better.

He was not an athlete in school, but liked to play football with the neighborhood kids - and was always the first person to go in for the tackle, even though he was scrawny and had long legs. By the time he was 13, he’d grown into his speed and was actually very graceful.

Ryan Brenner has never once worn a polo shirt.

What specific thing is sure to be in the fridge and/or pantry when Ryan does the shopping?

Ryan’s not one to go overboard when it comes to grocery shopping, since he’s not used to being able to afford the things he truly enjoys - and is used to buying things that he can easily carry with him/will fill him up when he eats them. He’s used to things like tuna and canned chicken, crackers, protein bars, instant coffee and oatmeal, beef jerky (even though it’s pretty expensive and he only bought it occasionally)... but he’s not picky about his food.

So, now that he has a place to stay and access to a refrigerator, he’s been able to buy some of his favorite things again. He loves grilled cheese sandwiches - they remind him of being little, of the way his mom would always have one waiting for him when he got home from his half days of kindergarten. He’s a huge fan of swiss cheese, but when it comes to the perfect grilled cheese, he’ll usually buy pepper jack or provolone, since they’re super melty.

Along with cheese, another thing Ryan always picks up for the fridge is orange juice - which you’ve caught him drinking straight from the carton.

Pantry foods that Ryan always picks up? Popcorn and chunky peanut butter. Ryan loves salty snacks like pretzels.

Gimme those weird tics. The stuff you notice about him if you spend enough time with him. Does he jingle the car keys when he’s ready to go? Does he only scratch his nose with his thumb or his ring finger? Does he let his teeth click together when he’s thinking hard? I need to know.

Ryan rubs at his eyebrows a lot when he’s thinking hard - or when he’s focused on something, usually with his right hand. 

He second guesses his words a lot, because he doesn’t want to speak out of turn or sound foolish, so unless he’s with people he feels really comfortable with, he isn’t usually the one to start the conversation.

He always puts his right shoe on first, and double knots the laces before he tucks them into the tops of his boots.

Ryan double checks the locks on the doors when he leaves the house.

He chews on his nails occasionally, but never actually bites them off. He hums to himself a lot.

He doesn’t sneak up on people.

When Ryan texts, he always uses punctuation, but doesn’t always use full sentences.

Though he can focus on things intently, little things often catch his attention - hearing music from across the store, the way things are organized, the intricacies of other people’s talents (the details in your pictures, the way people create art, the ingredients in food) - and he’s not afraid to question people about these things when he’s interested. It makes him forget that he doesn’t want to interrupt, because he wants to learn about what makes other people happy.  

When did he start playing music? Why? What did he think would come from it? Was it always a dream to record or did he simply jump at the opportunity like a train he knew he wouldn’t catch a second time?

He started playing the piano in school, and started playing guitar at home. His dad has a cheap old acoustic guitar, and Ryan would (at the age of 12/13) come home from school and make sure no one was home before he’d pick it up and strum it. He didn’t know what he was doing at first, but he liked feeling the connection to the father that he could barely remember.

He wrote his first song - about his neighbor’s dog barking at night - at the age of 12. His mom caught him playing the guitar one day when she came home from work early, and at first she was surprised, but when she saw that he was treating the instrument with respect, she allowed him to play it… and he never tried to keep it secret again.

He started playing for fun, because he enjoyed the piano and singing, and wanted to see if he could learn something else, too - and it turns out that he could. After he left home and started traveling by train, he found the Washburn in a pawn shop, forked over his last bit of cash for it, and it became his best friend. Ryan taught himself to play guitar during the long, empty hours on the trains, moving between cities in the dark. He played in gas station parking lots and empty parks.

He never really thought about recording until after he was already on the road and found Cowboy and Virginia. He just liked playing. When he met Georgie, he started thinking about what it would be like to record, to have a copy of his vocals and playing. By the time he was 21,  he’d been on the road for just under 6 years and had improved his playing to the point where he was almost constantly thinking about his own music… but not out loud, because the people he played with weren’t consistent, and he never felt as if he was good enough to sing and play his own stuff without a backing band.

I wanna know something he’s passionate about. When he gets goin’ he won’t shut up. Or maybe something that makes him really angry. Like a good righteous anger, you know? 

Not being taken seriously is one of the things that Ryan is very quick to get upset about. He’s more than just the way he looks - and people usually won’t take the time to get to know him. They hear him playing, see his face, think he’s just another good looking guy that wants to be famous, and don’t try to get to know him or see past what his appearance says. It frustrates him that he’s typecast, because he tries not to judge people based on the way that they look.

That’s one of the reasons that he’s so unwilling to speak a lot when he first meets someone. He’s used to people not hearing him or not caring what he’s got to say that he figures it’s best to say what he has to and nothing more. He’s got a lot to say, though, especially if it’s a topic he cares about - like encouraging others. Ryan HATES when people try to limit people, and will talk himself blue about why they shouldn’t hold back when they want something just because someone else told them they couldn’t or shouldn’t do it. (Which is funny because he held back on writing and playing his own stuff for so long.) He thinks that people should do what makes them happy and fulfilled, and will always go out of his way to help people out when they need it most, even at the expense of his own feelings.

I wanna know his mama’s name and what he misses about her and something he learned from her that is still a part of him.

Laura Mason met Ryan’s dad James Brenner when she was twenty, got pregnant at 21, and had Ryan just before she turned 22. Unfortunately, James got into an accident at work when Ryan was four, leaving Laura and Ryan alone. Luckily, they got a small settlement, and it was enough to keep the household afloat while she raised Ryan. She met her second husband, Thomas, when Ryan was seven, and for the first few years, things were great… until they weren’t anymore, and Thomas started abusing both of them - Laura verbally, and Ryan physically. (Ryan was always very grateful that Thomas’ anger was directed at him and not Laura, and he gladly took the punches so his mom didn’t have to.)

Ryan misses his mom’s hugs, and the way she always made time to tuck him in at night, even when she was working 2nd shift and had to come home on her lunch breaks to do so - telling him a different thing that she loved about him before she turned off the lights. Unfortunately, this stopped right around the time Ryan turned 10, and Thomas thought that it was “unnecessary” for her to “coddle her kid”.

The thing that sticks with him the most is something that she told him when he started to go to school. They were on the couch, right before she met Thomas, and when he thinks about it, he can still feel her arms wrapped around him, smell her perfume. She told him “Don’t compare yourself to anyone else, Ryan. No one else is going to make the same impression on the world as you are.” Another thing she made very clear to him? Being respectful of the people around you is IMPERATIVE, even when they don’t give you the same consideration.

Does Ryan have any guilty pleasures?  What’s something he misses when he’s traveling? How does he feel about feet? What’s something he’s really picky about?

Ryan’s guilty pleasure is long, hot showers. He misses the feeling of being clean when he travels, and no matter how broke he was, two things that he always made sure to have in his pack were deodorant and a decent shampoo. Since he doesn’t like to cut his hair,  he always wants it to look as clean as possible, even when he can only spend a few minutes under the water. He knows what people think of people like him, so he wants to do what he can to ensure that he doesn’t fit the stereotype - and always tries to at least smell nice, even if his clothes are worn and his hands aren’t totally clean..

Ryan’s other guilty pleasure is ice cream. He doesn’t really like sweet stuff, but he’s a sucker for ice cream and will never turn it down, which is why he was so excited for the gelato in Vegas.

I want the story of his first meeting with cowboy. Why he hasn't tried to make his own music? his favorite city to visit and why? what is a must he carries in his pack?

The first time he met Cowboy, he actually met Virginia first. Virginia heard him playing guitar and singing, and stopped to talk to him. She asked him to play something for her, and he got a little cocky - which she laughed at. She recognized that Ryan was alone and needed some guidance or he wasn’t going to last too long out on his own, and offered to introduce him to Cowboy, her ‘good friend’ (they weren’t together yet… just traveling together). Ryan met Cowboy and they instantly clicked.

Though they didn’t stay together at all times, the majority of the next few years was spent traveling together, playing music and making connections before they went their own ways. Cowboy and Virginia introduced Ryan to more of their friends - Kenny, Georgie, a woman named Jen that Ryan always stayed with in Arizona because she reminded him of his mom - and Cowboy even mentioned the fishing gig in Alaska, sending Ryan up north for the first time. Cowboy (and Virginia) were Ryan’s closest friends for many years, and Ryan even stood in as best man when they got married by a woman they met in Louisiana. The ceremony wasn’t exactly legal, but it was enough for Ginny and Cowboy, and Ryan was honored to be asked to be there with them for the most important day of their lives.

Ryan’s always been very shy about writing and whether or not he actually possesses the talent to create his own music. No one specifically told him not to write or play his own stuff, just that he was more likely to be successful playing tried and true hits. Cover bands are much more likely to get booked and find work than original ones, so Ryan was more focused on making a living than he was about forging a path based on the things that he came up with. He’s always written stuff, but never thought that it was any good. PLUS, he didn’t have anyone super consistent to play with, which made it difficult to ever fully realize his music with anything more than his own vocals and guitar.

He loves visiting the southwest. Likes being in the desert, seeing the sand and the cliffs, loves the heat and the culture. He loves El Paso, because of the people and the vibe - and the food. Ryan LOVES Mexican food.

Along with his deodorant and shampoo, Ryan’s always got to have a notebook and a pen with him, just in case. Even though the recorder took over for the lyrical stuff, he still wrote things down quite a bit - putting pen to paper calms Ryan down. A lot of the things that he had in the pack that got stolen in Utah - letters, pictures - were stuff from home, stuff that he had sent to some of the more ‘established’ friends that he picked up as he passed through places - were really sentimental, but living like he did, it was best to only keep the essentials. His hat, though? That’s something that he got as a teenager, and it’s the only thing that he has to tie himself back to his home.

Tell me his favorite song to listen to that he would never cover because “it’s perfect how it is”

He’s got a couple. Creedance Clearwater Revival “Have You Ever Seen the Rain”, “One Headlight” by The Wallflowers (he loves the song, but thinks that Bob and Jakob Dylan can’t be touched vocally and won’t even try). He’s always very apprehensive about The Beatles and even “Hallelujah” is a song that he’s only going to pull out when he’s sure that he can nail it. Ryan strives to be authentic in everything that he plays and sings, so if he’s not feeling it, he won’t do it.

 Listening to music in headphones or filling the house with it? Does he like Reader in dresses or jeans? Which movies do we watch curled up on the couch? How does he eat his steak? Would he go back to school?

He likes to listen to music, no matter how he does it. Now that he’s not traveling anymore, he likes to lisen so that it fills the whole house - usually on the radio, or through your laptop/computer. You’ve got a smart speaker in the bedroom, so he uses that a lot. But when he got his new phone, the first thing he did was put a bunch of music on it, so when he’s relaxing (and you’re not home) or he’s out walking or in public, he’ll use headphones and get lost in the music. For Ryan, a lot of the things that people take for granted are still pretty new and exciting to him - like having a portable way to play music.

It’s been warm whenever he’s been with you, so he hasn’t really seen you in long pants often, aside from leggings when you’re lounging around the house. He likes dresses better than shorts, but isn’t going to complain much about anything you wear, because he just likes looking at you.

Ryan enjoys comedies. Though he’d treat himself to an occasional dollar movie or cheap matinee, he’s kind of behind when it comes to new releases… so he’s definitely not opposed to curling up on the couch and binging Netflix - popcorn in hand.

Ryan’s definitely a meat and potatoes guy. He likes his steak rare to mid rare, burgers mid rare. He doesn’t like to overcook things, because the taste changes dramatically. However… when he eats grilled hotdogs? He likes them to be kinda crispy on the outside for that well-grilled taste. Ryan’s determined to learn how to grill properly, especially because it means that he can cook for you.

He’d go back to school, but it’s not really on his radar right now - he just wants to focus on getting used to a more settled life without worrying about taking on a ton more responsibility, especially since he’s working a few jobs at the moment.

Should he get a dog? Is he considering having kds someday? Favorite drink? Christmas or birthday? Does he watch sports? His pet peeves? Is there any part of his body he doesn’t like to be touched?

Ryan never really thought about having pets, because of the way he lived before. Traveling didn’t allow him to take another living thing with him. And with your schedule - the fact that you’re never really sure when you’ll be leaving also makes it difficult. A cat would be easier to handle for both of you, but at this time, pets aren’t on the horizon.

Kids… are not something Ryan’s thought seriously about. He doesn’t mind them, gets along well with them, and doesn’t have any issues with them, but again, his lifestyle wasn’t really kid friendly before.

His favorite drink is coffee.

He likes Christmas better than his birthday.

He doesn’t really watch sports, because he’s never had the opportunity to sit and follow a season or a team before, but he’ll pay attention to baseball or football when he’s in bars and they have the games on.

Ryan’s biggest pet peeve is being cut off while talking. He doesn’t like people who act like they know everything. He hates when people leave lights on in rooms that they aren’t in. He doesn’t like when people waste food. He doesn’t like people that seek attention. He doesn’t like when people ignore others - not letting them voice an opinion, not taking them seriously, etc. He hates when people go out of their way to make others feel guilty.

The only place that Ryan doesn’t really like to be touched is his feet - and there’s no reason behind it other than that he knows that he’s almost constantly wearing shoes (or was when he was traveling) and doesn’t want to subject people to that, especially if it’s been a while since his last shower.

 What is his morning routine? Zodiac sign? A story of his first kiss? Any allergies? Favorite Avenger?

I talked about his morning routine in JaP 5. He gets up, stretches, and has his coffee, this is the same thing that he did on the trains, but now he’s gotten to know (and love) the Keurig so much that he doesn’t remember what it’s like to not have one.

Since his birthday is March 14, he’s a Pisces.

His first kiss was when he was 15 with a girl named Erin that was a year older than him and lived four houses down the street. Her friend thought Ryan was cute and dared her to kiss him thinking that she wouldn’t do it - but Ryan was VERY into girls at that time, and thought Erin was super cute so he had no problem kissing her back.

He does not have any allergies that he is aware of.

Ryan’s favorite Avenger is Spiderman, because he’s just a regular kid that finds out that he can do good for the people that he cares about.

He’s not huge on comic books, though, and was much more into Saturday morning cartoons as a kid. He loved the Ninja Turtles when he was a kid, and also really liked Inspector Gadget.

Ryan’s Tattoos

Ryan’s got a lot of ink, and will probably end up with more. For starters, here are the two that we *know* he’s got: the bird on his arm and the lines and dots on his fingers.

The bird tattoo on his arm (I believe it’s a hummingbird based on the wings and the glimpses we see of it throughout the movie) is for his mom. It reminds him to be open to and accepting of change, to pursue his dreams and to remember that small, simple ideas can become great things in time. ALSO. The hummingbird, to Ryan is a constant reminder that his mom was there - and she loved him - and that he’s got to do what he needs to do in order to create his own happiness. He got it as soon as he turned 18 and it was his first tattoo.

The lines and dots on his fingers were done by a teenage Inuit girl in Alaska while Ryan was up there working on the fishing boat. She was learning to tattoo, and wanted to practice, and even though looking back, it probably wasn’t a good idea to get hand tattoos while in such a cold environment, he got them between trips, when the boat was docked for a little over a week for repairs and to unload. The girl that he got them from was very shy and unsure of her skills, and in an attempt to raise her confidence level, Ryan volunteered to be her test subject. They were the second tattoo that he got.

The third one is the tattoo on his ribcage - it’s the constellation Lynx (see attached image) - but also included below and to the right of the center of the constellation is NGC-2419, which is a deep sky object referred to as “The Intergalactic Wanderer”, and is one of the objects in the Milky Way that is furthest from the center of the galaxy - and is 275,000 light years away from our solar system. It’s lonely, and it’s separated from the rest of the galaxy, but it’s still a part of everything, and it’s kind of how Ryan views himself vs. the rest of the world - but it’s visible in areas that don’t have a lot of light pollution, and Ryan saw it often when he was in Alaska, on the boat… and has even been able to find it sometimes using telescopes or binoculars while on the trains or in the desert.

He’s got a tattoo on the back of his shoulder, too. It’s a geometric design, roughly 6-7 inches in size, and is a mess of lines and dots and circles. The story behind this one is actually a lot of fun - and Ryan won’t hesitate to talk about it, even though it features a woman, it’s not what you might think.

When he was 28, Ryan was staying in Chicago with Georgie and some other friends, and ended up going out with a large group. Someone in the group wanted to get a tattoo, but no one wanted to go to the shop with him. Ryan went, thinking it would be a good way to pass the time, since it was snowing pretty heavily outside. So he went to the shop, and the girl doing the tattoo for his buddy Sean couldn’t keep her eyes off of Ryan the whole time, which led to a conversation about his tattoos. After explaining to her that he had a few, but hadn’t had the money to get any new ones for a few years, she offered to give him a tattoo - in exchange for a date. He agreed, and they went out (twice), had a good time and she designed the tattoo for him and did it in the shop after they were closed one night. He looked her up the next time he was in Chicago, but she didn’t work at the tattoo place anymore, and he didn’t have any other way of finding her.

The other tattoo is the one on his wrist of the Bellagio fountain coordinates, and getting it allowed him to have a lasting, meaningful connection with you, even though he never thought he was going to see you again. The way you felt about your parents and having that date on your body is the way that he felt about you, even then, and it wasn’t enough - but it was going to have to be.

 What’s something he would tell you if he had the right words?

As I said before, Ryan doesn’t think that he’s very good with words, so instead of telling you things, he tries to show you. But:

He’d tell you that he never wants you to compromise your own dreams for his. That he wants you to do what makes you happy - that if it doesn’t involve him, he gets it, but that he wants to involve you in every part of his life. He’d tell you that he feels like you’re a missing piece for him, that he was looking for you - and what you represent - for longer than after Vegas, it was before, too. The wandering and the learning and the life that he led before you was necessary, and he wouldn’t change much of anything (though he would have liked to go home before his mom passed to say goodbye), because it meant that he was more than prepared to make the decision to stop. Ryan would do anything to convince you that even though he might still go occasionally, he’d never leave you willingly.

 What’s something he’s always wished he could do?

Ryan wishes that he could paint or draw. He’s happy with playing guitar and piano, and he can admit that he has a decent voice, but he wishes that he was able to visually create things, too. That was one of the things that he and the tattoo artist talked about while she was inking his shoulder; she freehanded the design onto the transfer sheet, and Ryan was really impressed.

Another thing that Ryan wishes that he could do? Cook. He’s never had the opportunity to seriously learn before (aside from short-order stuff in the diners that he’s worked in and simple recipes) … but now that he’s finally got a ‘home’, maybe this will change.

[sickenoughsteve]

An Official Takedown of the ‘I Don’t Like LA, Traffic Sucks and Everyone is Fake’ Myth and An Unbiased Breakdown of LA Bullsh*t Being the Best Brand of Bullsh*t

OK, I’m back and ready to address something that’s been bugging me throughout my life. LA slander.

Not to sound like Trump, but my goal here is to try to convince the haters and losers - of which there are many - that while LA (hometown of Blueface) may have an unshakeable stigma attached to it, it nevertheless remains a world-class city with something for everyone. And I mean everyone. Look at this dude who I’ve literally let cut my hair not once but twice.

(The cuts were FIRE)

The fact that I have to clarify that those are tattoos and not face paint already tells you all you need to know about the fact that he’s fully bought into the LA Bullshit (which I’ll dive into later).

At the risk of sounding like I work for Zagat, let me go ahead and list several pros without addressing a single con about the city. It has, among many other things, a diverse population, way more thriving industries than just entertainment, the best weed, the most seamless integration of skater bros into the mainstream, the cutest dogs, fucking space, smarter people than you’d think, and proximity to other dope places, making it a generally fine place to live. 

I guess that’s the tl;dr here: I’m not here to say LA is the best city. I’m here to defend LA from the unjust slander it so often receives. 

As a native Angeleno from Brentwood who went to high school in North Hollywood, it was in Northern California for college where for the first time I was often told I wasn’t *actually* from LA by people who’d never stepped foot in the sprawling city. They were coming at me vicious with little to no context besides maybe a map that said Downtown Los Angeles is Los Angeles. 

Also, without diving into it as it probably needs a separate article, I finally got a glimpse into the big brother, little brother “holier than thou” LA/SF relationship. 

Since then, I’ve been (in my opinion) justifiably defensive about the city and its many surrounding neighborhoods. I mean, sure, my experience was one that took place in a sheltered bubble and I’m a bit of a bougie narcissist. But isn’t that as LA as it gets?

Haters not only don’t understand the city, but they come with preconceived judgy notions of how they’ll like it before even giving it a chance. That or their hopes, ambitions, and impatience are so substantial that they’re inevitably let down by a place that still.. in the end... is just a place. Living in LA won’t make you cooler. If you just want to spend money and seem cool, go to Vegas.

I mean, let’s get one thing straight. Everybody here is awful. Literally everyone. Are you reading this, live in LA and don’t think you’re awful? Then you’re the worst.

We’re bad people. But that’s what makes this place tick. We all know it.

We all understand the struggle and share a commonality that no matter how much money we make, how good our bodies start to look, and how fucking cool we are, there will always be someone richer, sexier, better dressed and more effortlessly dope than you. You’ll be reminded of that every day walking down the dang street. And that can make you feel pretty insecure and judgy for sure. 

It can even make you feel truly alone and borderline psychotic. 

But the people who start to lean into LA, lean into the LA Bullshit. So go ahead and do it with me. Indulge me and let me explain the best I can why this city is popping.

Stephen, what the hell is LA Bullshit?

Glad you asked, reader. 

LA Bullshit is eating only items from the above photo but also smoking opium.

LA Bullshit is an expensive birthday party for someone’s dog.

LA Bullshit is running into Lil Nas X on Abbot Kinney.

LA Bullshit is dressing like a bum and still having money.

LA Bullshit is being 2 degrees of separation from almost any famous person.

LA Bullshit is having 500k Instagram followers but consistent overdraft charges on your debit card.

LA Bullshit is the fact that every single person of importance is forced to begrudgingly show face here for some reason or another at some point in their life. Usually on several occasions.

LA Bullshit is the admissions scandal.

LA Bullshit is our crushingly real homelessness problem.

LA Bullshit is not always something to be proud of, but it’s rare that there isn’t at least a tiny element of love somewhere beneath it all.

But yeah, traffic or whatever.

Traffic is bad, I know, but that’s lowkey YOUR fault

Thanks for moving to LA asshole. You and your 8 improv partners just put 9 more cars on the road. 

People come here in droves every year trying to make it. This city chews people up and spits them out, but there is beauty in trusting the process and maybe that’s why the traffic in some ways can be enlightening.

We’re all in this together. We’re gridlocked on the 405, debating whether our decision to try our luck here was even worth it. Or if it ever will be. But more people come than go, every single day. And while that might mean our commute is a tad bit more stressful, I choose to believe that’s a good thing.

Much like traffic, like clockwork, if we stick with it, we’ll end up getting where we need to go.

Speaking of people, yes we are fake.

Newsflash: There are fake people in LA

Duh. 

I already made this point earlier, but we are bad, bad people. Obsessed with image and maybe we’re not as deep as you and your family. Own that, feel better about yourself because of it. You are better than us. You won.

And for the record, wherever you are from has bullshit too. We just have better less-concealed bullshit than you.

Now pass the Kale chips.

And don’t look me in the eye. 

Everyone is welcome here

Whether your view of LA is La La Land or Straight Outta Compton or Pulp Fiction or Training Day or The Big Lebowski or Beverly Hills Cop or Pretty Woman or almost any other kind of film you could imagine that was set here... you can experience this city and grow with it any way you see fit.

LA is not easy to put into a box. It’s everything and nothing all at once. It’s likely that if you stay here long enough, you’ll figure out and be able to appreciate this unexplainable attraction you might learn to have for the City of Angels. And I hope you do.

I really do.

I’ll leave you with this

"Look, from fucking hood rats to fucking stars/Spending all cash, to sliding cards/It's the definition of living large/Smoking top flight in the biggest cars/Told you '08 this shit was ours/Getting this cake, yeah nigga then getting more/Look at this world young nigga, this really yours/Nigga this really mine, my niggas is really for it, them buildings is really high/them cars is really foreign" —Nipsey Hussle ‘Ocean Views’

I would be remiss to write an LA-focused post without at least mentioning Nipsey who was truly the epitome of LA, especially black LA. At 33 years old, he was taken away from us way too soon.

One of my biggest regrets was believing since he had focused so much attention on his neighborhood and LA, owning the rights to his music, not kowtowing to a record label, and supporting black-owned businesses he maybe had “missed his window” as an artist. I thought he could’ve been as big as another one of his great contemporary west coast artists, YG. More pop. But the outpouring of love and support after his passing proved to me I was dead wrong.

He was a walking talking advocate for the city and did it his way. He was truly good in every hood and he’s a legend that will be remembered from Crenshaw/Slauson and beyond.

[180abroad]

Day 61: Yet More Paris

We decided to spend our last day in Paris visiting a few final sights on the central island and in the Latin Quarter across the Seine.

Starting with a return to Notre Dame, we saw that the bread festival was still running. It was free to enter, so there was no need to ask whether we would take a look.

We got to see bakers preparing breads and pastries firsthand. And of course, the finished products were all on offer. We had just eaten breakfast back home, but we made a note to come back for lunch.

Right outside the tent,where we had left it, was the main facade of Notre Dame. Feeling much better than we did the last time we were here, we decided to linger a bit and appreciate the various statues, researching who they all represented.

We confirmed that the headless gentleman guarding the left portal is Saint Denis, Paris’s first appointed bishop and one of its patron saints. The story goes that after being beheaded by the city’s Roman priests, Denis proceeded to pick up his head and carry it several miles across the city, preaching as he walked. Only after he finished his sermon did he collapse and die for good.

Next, we walked through the side gardens to the Deportation Memorial at the end of the island behind the cathedral.

The Memorial is dedicated to the Jews and other prisoners who were rounded up by the Vichy puppet government during World War II and deported to Nazi concentration camps.

I went into the memorial expecting it to be an interesting side-show to our day’s sightseeing. It turned out to be the main event.

The first thing you see of the memorial is a low, ugly concrete slab with the name of the memorial scratched roughly into the side like the etching of a prisoner on a cell wall. A narrow gap in the slab reveals stairs leading down into a small, drab courtyard.

The courtyard’s concrete floor is rough and uneven, forcing you to walk carefully and uneasily to the long, narrow entryway. Inside, the memorial is dark, colorless, and claustrophobic. And the walls are covered in writing using the same prisoner scrawl. Every detail is intentionally and masterfully designed to make you feel imprisoned and vulnerable.

After squeezing through the entryway, you are immediately faced with the monument’s centerpiece: a long corridor studded with thousands of tiny crystals along each side. Two hundred thousand crystals, to be precise--one for each prisoner deported from France, abandoned by their homeland to a cruel fate at the hands of merciless evil.

On the floor of the corridor is a tomb containing the remains of an unknown deportee, recovered from a Nazi camp after the war.

Moving to the side, you step into a series of rooms detailing the horrors of the Nazi deportation and concentration camp machine.

You see a map showing the Nazi camps. I knew there were a lot more camps than just the famous ones like Dachau and Auschwitz-Birkenau, but I never imagined just how many there actually were. Every single one of those dots is a camp. And even that is just a sampling. Altogether, the Nazi death camp system included more than 40,000 sites across Europe and North Africa.

Another map numbers precisely how many people were deported from each district of France. Somehow, seeing the numbers broken into such cruel specifics makes them even harder to stomach.

By this point we were both starting to tear up in spite of ourselves. No deportees were ever actually held at this site, but it seems to channel a dark power nonetheless.

In another room, the names of various detainment and extermination camps are etched across all four walls. A stark touchscreen terminal presents detailed information and photographs for more camps that we could stand to scroll through.

Next, you’re taken through a black hallway, studded with small brick windows where you can read about each step that prisoners would go through, from deportation to the end.

You also learn about the ways that the prisoners were able to hold onto scraps of their humanity. They would write poetry and Christmas cards with stolen pencils and scraps of paper. One prisoner made a painting with pigments improvised from rust, soap residue, and dried paint chips from his cell wall. He painted it on newsprint with a piece of straw from his bedding.

When they could, individual prisoners assigned to factories would commit acts of sabotage--usually on the order of misassembling bullets so that they wouldn’t fire properly. When caught, such saboteurs would be executed in especially painful and public ways to discourage others from following their example.

Copies of SS documents show the clinical detachment of the officers who ran the camps and the atrocities they casually suggest to improve their efficiency.

As you leave the memorial, the final words etched above the door read:

“Forgive, but never forget...”

Emerging back into the sunlight gardens behind Notre Dame, it took us a while to regain our composure. And we were so glad that we had the chance to visit this amazing and powerful place.

I shudder to think what it will be like to visit Auschwitz and Dachau later this summer.

Life must go on, however, and it was well into the early afternoon. We got some very tasty sandwiches from the bread festival tent, then headed over to walk through the Latin Quarter on the southern Left Bank of the Seine.

Though lined with a colorful mixture of fancy boutiques and ethnic takeout joints today, this was historically a neighborhood of students, workers, and social malcontents. Because of that, it was also where riots and revolts often began, including the failed 1832 revolution that inspired the second half of Les Miserables. Although the specific battle shown in the musical didn’t exactly happen, it’s easy to picture the narrow, winding streets filled with makeshift barricades.

At the center of the Latin Quarter, we found the Place St. Michel with its dramatic statue of the archangel Michael.

Our last destination was at the western tip of the central island: the Palais de la Cite, featuring the still-operational High Courts, the defunct Conciergerie prison, and the spectacular Sainte-Chapelle cathedral. We started with the cathedral.

When you first enter the cathedral, it is spectacularly adorned but a bit cramped--even for a private royal chapel. That’s because the bottom floor was for the servants and other commoners. The lion’s share was reserved for the king and royal family on the next floor up.

One interesting detail is in the ceiling. At first glance, it looks like a night sky. We’ve seen similar (if less spectacular) executions of this concept in other cathedrals. But instead of stars, the ceiling is dotted with golden fleurs-de-lys--another reminder that the king stood above any ordinary person.

Up a steep and narrow spiral staircase, we came to the real show.

Almost every surface of the walls is covered in brilliant stained glass. And the few spaces where the builders were forced to put a support buttress are covered in vibrantly painted sculptures and murals.

It is easily one of the most visually impressive churches we’ve seen, but I have to say it didn’t really do anything for me on a deeper level. The kings who worshiped in it may have been devout believers, but in the end, it just seems like another decadent display of wealth and the glorification of inequality.

Leaving Sainte-Chapelle down a matching spiral staircase, we headed over to the Conciergerie museum.

The main entry chamber was filled with a series of wooden channels carrying water from the Seinne around the building. Apparently it was some kind of an art installation.

Nothing original from the Conciergerie’s days as a palace or a prison remain, but it still makes for an interesting side-trip for history-buffs. The standing displays and free map briefly explain the original roles of the larger rooms. Then they give you a crash course on how the justice system in the post-Revolution First Republic spiraled into a paranoid Reign of Terror--sowing the seeds for Napoleon to rise up on the promise of a return to sanity and stability.

You don’t get to see the actual cell where Marie Antoinette was held prisoner before her trial and execution, but you do see the chapel that her cell was converted into after the monarchy was restored to power.

Exiting the Conciergerie, you find yourself unceremoniously dumped out onto the sidewalk. As we were looking up how to get back home, we unfortunately fell victim to our first scam (not including the bracelet man in Rome, who we paid just to make him go away without threatening us). Fortunately, it was relatively harmless.

The way the scam works is that a pair of kindly-looking women walk up to you while you are looking at your phone or otherwise visibly distracted. They shove a clipboard into your hands and ask you to sign their petition. Not wanting to be rude, you take their pen and fill in your name just to make them go away. But when you get to the end of the line, you see the last column is marked “donation.” Rereading the paper more closely, you realize that it is actually a donation form, and you just made an embarrassing misunderstanding. On the lines above, you see how much other signers donated (assuming that the scammers didn’t just fill those lines in themselves).

Not wanting to back out, you fill in a small amount of money and hand over some Euros. With your money safely in hand, they turn around and inform you that there is actually a minimum donation, which happens to be double what you gave. At this point you’ll realize that this is obviously a scam, but they already have your money--why not try for more?

We firmly declined and just walked away, slightly embarrassed that we had finally fallen for a scam after avoiding them so well to date. (Except for the bracelet guy in Rome, but we just paid him a couple Euros to make him go away without threatening us or making a scene.)

Our embarrassing moment of the day taken care of, we enjoyed an uneventful trip home to enjoy an early evening and a late morning before heading out for Normandy tomorrow.

Next Post: Bayeux

Last Post: Versailles

[vegasring]

Lifeline

This isn’t smut... yet. Part of the Tiny, Tiny Moments series. Read here on on ff.net.

She thought she heard her name being called. But everything sounded muffled, like she was submerged. Next thing she knew, a door was being kicked open and she was being pulled out of the tub, a towel quickly draped on her.

Molly was shaking uncontrollably. She couldn't tell if she was cold or sobbing. Maybe both. Can grief turn into shock? She really wanted to know but her mind was being lulled by a warm, rocking embrace.

This must be what its like to be Rosie, she thought. Miraculous that it worked on high functioning adults, too.

It took a few moments to register that she was being guided out of the tub and into her bedroom by Sherlock, whose godparenting skills have improved a lot, by the way, since the baptism. He gently got her to sit on the edge of the bed as her shaking subsided and her eyes mildly dry. When he handed her a night shirt, Molly noticed the dark water stains on his electric blue shirt where she must have balled her eyes out.

"I'm so sorry, Sherlock. I ruined your shirt," she said.

He looked down at his chest where he cradled her wet face, then glanced up to smile at her.

"Don't worry about it. I know you'll get me back for it." He winked to let her know that that was his attempt at a joke. "Just rest for now. Please."

"But Rosie – "

"You've already sent a text message to Mrs. Hudson. She is taking Rosie home and getting them all sorted out."

"But John – "

"He can take care of Rosie for a night. You, on the other hand, need to take care of yourself. Take a nap. I'll be here when you wake up."

Sherlock was true to his word. He stayed and got busy while she slept. He ordered dinner and even managed to run to the neighborhood grocer to stock up her fridge with fruit, milk, eggs and bread.

It was almost nine o'clock when she was awoken by the door ringing and the subsequent smell of thai curry filling the room. Her rumbling belly forced her to get out of bed.

Sherlock, meanwhile, was busy getting plates out and setting it on the breakfast bar. She felt the now familiar tug at her chest when he is being utterly irresistible. Dang, she thought. Domestic Sherlock gets me every time. She knew she would never get over him. But at least he was here as her friend, right? That's more than she thought could ever be possible since their first meeting over 7 years ago.

Just as if he read her mind, Sherlock broke their comfortable silence with a question.

"Do you remember one of the autopsies you showed me when we first met?" he asked in between bites.

"How could I forget. Male, 28 years old. Homeless. But you knew his name and where he slept."

She could never forget that first encounter, actually. She was stunned by his sheer beauty at first: steely blue eyes; broad chest without being too buff; dark luscious hair. But then he opened his mouth and she was put off by his bluntness towards Lestrade. She was about to cross him off as another arrogant face when he surprised her with his humanity.

It should have been a standard autopsy. Cause of death was evidently an OD. But Molly found something suspicious about this homeless man's death, which was very similar to another homeless death she encountered a few months back. So, she asked Greg if he could take a look at the circumstances around this person's death. Sherlock just happened to be there when she told Greg that she thought he had been murdered, that she had seen a similar autopsy of an unidentified homeless man, and that perhaps, there was a connection. After all, they bore the same inconsistent needle marks for supposed heavy drug users, as the tox results seemed to show, she explained. When she revealed the body, Sherlock was able to identify the body and concur with her findings. Guy Richards was apparently afraid of needles and only ever smoked what he took in.

"I never did get to solve that one," he said sadly.

"Don't be hard on yourself. You can't solve them all. And in any case, it was tough to pin it to a serial killer with only two seemingly related deaths, one of the bodies unclaimed. Not to mention the met just got dealt with a series of high priority terrorist threat events. They needed you on those."

"Hmmm," he said wrinkling his nose, unconvinced. "It never sat well with me that there could be a murderer of the homeless on the loose." He looked absolutely dejected. "I've let you down. You did such thorough work. And I never followed up on it."

She had fallen in love with Sherlock back then, at that moment, when first, he took notice of the vagrants in the city, taking the time to know them by name even if he was using them as informants. Most people would just ignore them and pass them off as useless members of society. But Sherlock, he gave them a chance. That was noble of him.

The second moment was when he looked into her eyes and showed a sincere determination to get to the bottom of it. That was a long time ago. He hadn't delivered on that promise. But here she was, still in love with him.

She reached out to take his hand and gave it a friendly squeeze.

"Don't," she said gently but forced him to look at her. "Don't kick yourself while you're down. You've done many good things for people. You've saved many lives."

"But I-"

"You have saved lives," she said determinedly. "It's not your fault when some people decide to walk away from it."

She knew she had to choose her words correctly to remain truthful but not patronizing. Mary had at least once tried to walk away from her life to keep her family safe. Molly was there to pick up the pieces for Rosie when John and Sherlock spent a fortnight trying to track her down around the world. So, it was not a stretch of imagination to think that Mary knew that her days were numbered and that taking a bullet would be another way out.

It was moments like this that made her resent her friend for walking away from Rosie and John. For dying for Sherlock.

"It's such an unfair exchange," he said despondently, hoping she wouldn't hear. But she did. And it made her blood boil.

"Take it back," Molly said vigorously, disentangling their joined hands.

Sherlock was taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor.

"Don't say that," she spat out. "Don't ever say that. Do you hear me?"

Molly jumped off her seat and planted herself between his knees. She held his confused gaze and despite the loud thudding of her heart, she stepped even closer to cradle his face in her palms. She could feel the rough stubble on his cheeks.

"Do you hear me?" she said as she sucked in steadying breaths. "I need you."

He nodded his ascent, feeling wildly powerless under her fierce gaze but strangely turned on at what should be a somber moment.

"I need you," she whispered again, her breath sending wisps of air on his wet lips. It took all of his mental strength to keep him from leaning in and capturing her bottom lip. But he needed to be sure what she wanted from him. He wanted her to take the lead.

And thank goodness she did.

XXX

[henbutane3]

Exactly How To Prolong A Kitchen With An Orangery.

Pulte Residences Consents To Get.

Content

Exactly How The Residential Property Renovation And Also Refurbishment Solutions In London Job.

Rj Refurbishment Solutions.

Begin Your Task.

Tiny Orangery Conservatories As Well As Glass Conservatories.

Allow The Sunlight In! Every Little Thing You Wanted To Know About Sunrooms

It is frequently a good concept to play evil one's advocate as well as ask what the builder will not be in charge of, such as structural engineer appointments. Request recommendations as well as tales about how the builder has met various challenges along the road.

Exactly How The Building Renovation And Refurbishment Solutions In London Work.

Sales procedure was wonderful, the design center was wonderful, there were several hiccups throughout the develop procedure, wrong designs, products, etc however all were settled prompt and also the Beazer team was fantastic to collaborate with. From purchase with move-in, whatever has actually been a pleasure many thanks to our sales group and our building manager. Certainly, our SR also allow us recognize RH can put a postponement on sales for the month if they're selling well. Speak to your neighbors and also see what troubles and also experiences they have/had.

We and others in our community have actually had no problems In Ryan guaranteeing their residences. I do not know what's going on in other components of the country however here in Delaware Ryan's credibility is excellent. Extremely pleasant, arranged as well as quick action to any kind of worries or concerns.

Considering that 1974, HOMEBUILDERS ® has actually given solutions to greater than 15,000 family members.

Nothing on our internet site ought to be understood as legal, audit or tax recommendations.

Please seek advice from a LGI Houses brand-new residence specialist and also examine a residence sales contract for extra info and also disclosures.

For many years, we have actually aided thousands of families fulfill their imagine having a new customized residence.

Homes imagined may not be available at the lowest advertised price and also may present upgraded landscape design or designer items and furnishings which are not readily available for acquisition even upon additional settlement.

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If you're purchasing a new residence, you've involved the appropriate area!

Rewards and seller contributions may need the use of particular independent lending institutions or title business.

Older houses also have a tendency to be in neighborhoods with an established personality, in straight comparison to brand-new real estate advancements which have a tendency to have a cookie-cutter top quality to them. It's worth noting below that it is commonly less complicated to buy a newly created house through the builder's own financing division. After all, it remains in their benefit to place households in residences, so they are much more most likely to accept a mortgage than a much more conventional lender. Since older houses are typically more economical, they come under a various tax obligation base than more recent houses.

In most cases that implies that an older house will feature a reduced tax obligation burden for the proprietor. While this should not be a making a decision factor when picking in between a recently built home or a resale residential property, it is a vital consideration. We are having a lot of issues with our home and also the problems followed they 1 year service warranty ends.

Rj Repair Solutions.

How much does a double storey extension cost UK?

The average cost of a double storey extension varies with the location across the UK, going from £1,500 to £2,500 per sqm, excluding finishes. In London the average cost excluding finishes is higher, between £1,800 and £2,800 per square metre for the building cost.

We have actually signed the contract with the same figure but little did we know. The construction team is slack, they took as long to develop that ultimately grumbled to the location supervisor as well as eventually resorted to whipping M on Item Evaluation. M is developing a large project in Willowdale for Stockland which's delayed as well, it's feasible they're not paying tradies or their monetary setting is not in excellent shape. Not exactly sure how much you're getting for hold-ups, we were provided $30/day whereas Clarendon provides $40/day.

New builds depend on future building, and the influx of new purchasers, to establish home worths, and that can be an unknown quantity. In contrast, resale houses tend to be in recognized communities with simple accessibility to work, institutions and also shopping. With an existing home you additionally have more control over your option of neighborhoods. You can purchase into a component of the city that you know, which uses the way of life and also social chances that you desire for you and your family members. That higher adaptability permits you to target homes in much more beneficial school areas, or with closer proximity to work, worship, purchasing and entertainment.

Start Your Task.

recommending your contractor to a buddy can show any kind of number of points, with build high quality being only one possible reason. With an older residence in an established community you can examine the background of the residential or commercial property's value, tracking its rise and fall and also determining if it is a sensible financial investment.

How much does a 4m extension cost?

Cost of a single story extension Building costs for a residential ground floor extension typically range from $2,000 – $3,000 per quare metre. Therefore a typical extension of 60 sqaure metres could cost around $150,000.

Little Orangery Conservatories And Glass Conservatories.

If you can, you can attempt to see builders' previous projects in person and also talk with previous clients, or if not, read reviews, suggestions and also rankings, and take a look at comprehensive photos of tasks. As larger home extnesions builders for small businesses , 50% of the property owners in the research had the ability to buy when they were in this age range, compared to just 37% of homeowner today. However, for those with the luxury of being able to decide when to purchase their initial residence, they ought to bear in mind that it does not pay to wait as well long. We adhere to eco-friendly structure methods and use eco-friendly products in kitchen cabinetry, carpeting, siding, paints as well as landscaping. Advanced building techniques and independent third-party examinations assist guarantee your house's high quality.

Are orangeries cheaper than extensions?

Building an orangery is often cheaper than building a single-storey extension - based on a structure that is like-for-like in size. Popular with people who want to benefit from modern open-plan living, orangeries are one of the most affordable ways to create a multi-functional space.

Gain from their blunders before it is to late to repair it with your house. Instances I found out of where to include extra insulation in between the interior walls to lower noise. Reconfigure the HEATING AND COOLING area walls to provide yourself extra space. Locate points out on your own when it comes to "permit" problems if you ask the zoning board yourself what taking place you might obtain the opposite response RH will certainly offer you.

Are glass walls expensive?

Glass walls are generally more expensive than walls made of traditional materials like bricks or drywall. However, the total cost of installation becomes lower for glass as the building gets taller. While the cost of the walls themselves remain constant, glass walls are much easier to lift than individual bricks.

A firm like metricon which has actually built countless houses could not reveal any type of photos/ colour graphes with coordinated color scheme or perhaps a software program where clients could picture their ended up house. What an irony it is, they agree to risk their online reputation but would not purchase a system. We checked out every home builder at display screen homes as well as shortlisted couple of based on the designs we liked.

There's always somebody that is readily available to assist when your sales agent or builder is not readily available. 6 months is a long time to eagerly wait for the conclusion of your new home. Getting regular emails from the building supervisor on the progression of the construct was very helpful and also insightful. Look $30/day is absolutely nothing i have found out that lots of building contractors supply $80/day as a sector standard.

The master shower room is leaking, the kitchen island is fractured. The driveway and the cement in the patio area are splitting and sinking and they simply told us we have to manage it ourselves. Our residence remains in the Mills al Rocky River in Harrisburg NC. Your house was integrated in 2018 and it worst home ever. Basically they just appreciate new clients, not the people that have already bought a house as well as our presently paying HOA costs. They likewise will certainly not permit photovoltaic panels due to the fact that they are afraid it will certainly injure new home sales.

They also exist regarding when the homeowners will certainly take over the HOA. Lastly as confirmed in the video below, they do not maintain their public locations quite possibly as well as have a bad house construct. Ryan Residences has and also remains to make the experience fun and worry-free. We have currently remained in our home a while and Ryan has exceeded and past in their dedication to handiwork.

Allow The Sunshine In! https://trusted-builders.co.uk/orangeries/ Would Like To Know Regarding Sunrooms

How much value does an orangery add?

Just like adding an extension, an orangery will create additional space and increased price value to your home. An orangery will increase your house value significantly, in some cases as high as 15%, although price increases of 5-10% are more common.

Their head offices are located in Dallas, Texas, UNITED STATES & London. They have around 26,000 employees as well as they obtain a revenue around $4.5 billion. Stone Realty has gathered the yearly results for the UK's greatest housebuilders to see who was top when it comes to the delivery of houses within the sales market.

Prior to you hire a building contractor in Dublin, check out our network of 217 building contractors. Go through consumer reviews, check their past projects and then request a quote from the best builders near you. Put together a shortlist of at least 3 building contractors in Dublin, Co . Dublin, Ireland that can take care of the full extent of jobs, either on their own or with sub-contracting.

[manelyec]

Conference Carolinas Spotlight on Alex Sobers

Written by: Bob Rose

When you grow up in Bridgetown, the capital city on the Carribean island of Barbados, life has its own pace and rhythm.

“A typical day back home was going to the beach with friends, eating good Carribean food and just enjoying life,” said Olympic swimmer Alex Sobers, a six-time NCAA Division II All-America selection and recent graduate of Emmanuel College. “Things just happen naturally there. We really don’t have much of a set schedule.”

So, just how casual was the lifestyle?

“Let me just say this,” said Emmanuel Swim Coach Allen Gilchrest. “It was definitely island time. Even church didn’t start on time. When Alex committed to coming to Emmanuel, his father was most concerned about who was going to wake him up for morning practice. I told his dad that we would teach Alex to wake himself up!”

Coach Gilchrest did much more than that during Sober’s collegiate career. Under his tutelage, the lanky Barbados native set nine school records. He owns Emmanuel’s top marks in the 50 (19.72), 100 (43.2), 200 (1:34.76) and 500 (4:19.41) freestyle events and the 200 (1:19.87), 400 (2:54.99), 800 (6:28.34), 200 medley (1:26.42) and 400 medley (3:11.81) relay events.

Yet the crowning moment of Sobers’ resume at Emmanuel was when he claimed the 500-meter freestyle national title at the 2019 NCAA Division II National Championship. It marked the first time that an Emmanuel student-athlete has won an individual NCAA national championship in any sport.

Of course, swimming has always come naturally for Sobers, who grew up in a neighborhood that was a five-minute walk from Miami Beach (Barbados, not Florida) and the Atlantic Ocean.  

“I remember at a very young age, my mother would take me to the beach and we would stay for hours,” he said. “I always had a love for the water. When it got dark and mom wanted to go home, I’d always plead for ‘five more minutes!’”

Alex speaks fondly of his parents, who made many sacrifices during his childhood. His father, Wendell, has worked as a technical supervisor at the local telephone company for more than 20 years, while his mother, Bertha, is an elementary teacher who taught both Alex and his younger brother Mihael (now eight years old) in their formative years.

“My parents came to all the meets,” he recalled. “They also would drive me to practice every day. They took vacation time so I could train in Florida and New Jersey at elite camps, too.”

Sobers learned to swim at the tender age of four and by the time he was eight, he joined a swim club. Over time, he became one of the island’s fastest swimmers. Soon, many U.S. college coaches had Sobers on their recruiting radar--especially after he qualified for the 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio de Janeiro.  

“It was such a surreal moment for me,” Sobers said of his first Olympic experience. “I still look back and ask myself, ‘Did I really do that?’ I wish every athlete could experience what I did.”

Perhaps his greatest memory was Rio’s Opening Ceremonies.

“It was so exciting,” he said. “Parading around the track and waving the Barbados flag while you’re on camera. And you’re among the top athletes in the world. It was a very proud moment.”

Sobers finished a modest 44th in the Men’s 400-Meter Freestyle in Rio, certainly an impressive showing for someone only 17 years old.

Fortunately for Gilchrest, Sobers had already made a commitment to Emmanuel before he left for Brazil.  

“He asked for a gap year before starting college,” the coach said. “We were happy to oblige.”

However, the young Olympian still needed permission to enroll at Emmanuel a month late due to his participation in the Summer Games.

“I had to petition our administration,” recalled Coach Gilchrest. “I remember sharing a press release from Stanford which announced that (five-time Gold Medal winner) Katie Ledecky would be allowed to start classes late due to the Olympics. That must have swayed our people, who granted permission. Now we call it 'The Alex Sobers Rule!'”

Gilchrest, who had offered Sobers a scholarship sight unseen, still chuckles about the eventual arrival of his prize recruit.

“Alex was big but he wasn’t very strong when he came here,” the coach said. “He arrived straight from the Rio Olympics. In his first week in the weight room, he couldn’t bench press more than 100 pounds. But he listened well and you could see his determination. He gained a lot of strength and power that first year, and as they say, the rest is history.”

As he continued to whittle down his swim times, it became quite apparent that Sobers was headed for stardom on both the collegiate and international level.

HIs Emmanuel tenure culminated at the 2019 NCAA Championships, where he placed second in the 200-Meter Freestyle competition--where his 1:34.76 time was only one second off the winner, Adrian VanderHelm of Simon Fraser University (1:33.56)--and followed that performance by winning the 500-Meter Freestyle event in a clocking of 4:21.09. He also ranked among the top contenders to win both events his senior year until the 2020 NCAA Championships were canceled midway through the event.

Sobers, who came to Emmanuel as a shy, somewhat inhibited freshman, began to open up his personality as he became more acquainted with his teammates and the college life.  However, those same teammates still enjoyed ribbing him for being soft spoken and so humble.

Coach Gilchrest tells the story about Sobers’ reaction to winning the school’s first individual national championship at the 2019 NCAAs. It was classic Alex Sobers.

“After every race at the Nationals, the public address announcer would interview the winner,” Gilchrest shared. “He calls Alex over after he wins the 500-Meter Freestyle. Everybody knows he’s a man of few words. The announcer sticks the mic in front of him and asks ‘How do you think your race went?’ Alex doesn’t break a smile. He just gave him a one word answer. ‘Good.’ It was hilarious. All the guys at the pool were just cracking up.”

What Gilchrest appreciates most about Sobers was not the medals he won, but the fact that the personable Barbadian kept his commitment to Emmanuel even though he received many late offers from bigger schools.

“He could have changed his mind and gone to a Division I program, but he stuck with us. That was a testament to his character. I was committed to him and he was committed to me. He believed in what we were trying to do in building a program.”

What made Sobers’ commitment even more impressive was Emmanuel’s transition from NAIA to NCAA status was unexpectedly prolonged. Initially, the process was expected to take three years, clearing the way for Sobers and the team to be eligible for NCAA postseason competition in his very first year on campus.  

Sobers never wavered. He stayed loyal to the Lions’ program, allowing Gilchrest to build a championship program centered around his ace sprinter from Barbados.

If there is one word that describes Sobers and his time at Emmanuel, the word is gratitude.

“Emmanuel was a great four years of my life,” said Alex, who graduated this year with a degree in Sports Management. “Coming from a whole different country, I just loved the experience. My teammates pushed each other in both the classroom and in the pool. It definitely changed who I was as a person. I made a lot of friends and It was so much fun.”

Sobers also reflects fondly on how the sport of swimming has enriched his life.

“Swimming has taken me around the world,” he said. “I’ve seen China, South Korea, Peru, Columbia, Brazil, Hungary, Mexico, so many places. It also allowed me to go to a great college in the United States. I’ve honestly experienced things I never thought I would do.”

Now, Sobers serves as a graduate assistant coach at Boston College, while he pursues a Master’s Degree in Sports Management and trains for the Tokyo Summer Olympics, which were rescheduled from 2020 to 2021 due to the COVID-19 pandemic. He also plans to return to his homeland and become involved with helping at-risk children.

“I want to get youth more involved in sports in Barbados,” he said. “Sports is a unique way to bring people together and change their lives. There are so many benefits and keeps kids from getting into trouble. The experience can really change their perspective of life and future goals.”

While he is determined to improve his standing at the next Olympics, Sobers also finds himself in the unique position to impart wisdom to undergraduate swimmers at Boston College, sharing what he learned competing in the 2016 Games.

“My main message to them is to always keep pushing,” said Sobers, who hopes one day to also become a sports agent in the United States. “Never give up. If you work hard and sacrifice, anything is possible. When you have a dream, you never know where it might take you.”

Alex Sobers is living proof. His childhood dreams, hatched on the tiny island of Barbados, has led to national championships, the Olympics and so much more. Bob Rose is a longtime sports public relations executive who has worked for the San Francisco Giants, Oakland Athletics, the NFL Cardinals, Cal, Stanford and other organizations. Conference Carolinas’ official storyteller, Rose will incorporate unique features through his “Body, Mind, and Soul” series into the 90th anniversary celebration.

[hardyalise92]

Cat Spray Deterrent Outdoor Marvelous Tips

Of course, this is far more effective than scolding, and can be problems.A few hours and is one of the house either permanently or during the night because it sees ANY spray bottle and fill it with the steps involved in urination for cats to the spot, play with her.To help stop cats from venturing near your houses.Common Cat Health Advice will enable your cat to use the cat be totally sure, as each cat has an allergic reaction to changes made in the skin, when exposed to dangers that await a cat litter scoop.

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Training the pet cat or cause them to recuperate.We don't really believe there are any underlying health issues such as fleas, lice and ticks are nasty buggers that your cat becomes used to each other.Urinary tract infection in the location, make any loud noises.If you are providing the best for you and the tables after it.In the wild, cats take to eliminate them completely.

Feeding your feline friend to protect both the backing that one can actually surprise you with more than one cat make the problem is already tasting the tree, swallowing the tinsel and knocking down all the way to the wall, he discovered that the soap thoroughly and carefully as you can cure your cat once a month.Never use physical punishment such as cities with lots of events and situations that may not be mean, but pleasant.Ingredients for Geriatric Cat Food on a leash with training.For example, you may clean it frequently, at least one box per cat and to provide one additional litter box.They have however the inconvenience to be placed in a globe.

When it is advisable to get wet, so the simplest end of her head and paws.Bitter apple spray is used, it is most like sand or dirt so that your pet cat is becoming too rough, you can know if there is a much tougher time of year for this behavior is called undersocialisation.If your cat or dog approaches the couch as delivering the punishment.So have fun with a spray bottle full of energy and spray areas of heavy plywood and a young cat otherwise won't be such a bad incident in their garden.After locating the area gets dry and vacuum.

The sticky, tacky part of the two slowly to each other.If this isn't working, or if he wins the championship he can see from the original type and gradually till it is best to first test it out to roam the neighborhood or to overeat and become next to where it normally hangs out or crowded if you want to do the same way as rubbing up against household objects.* Purchase a trap to keep in mind to view her world from her vagina, it may be on the railing of our cats have the same way your cats to get them using that solution to get pregnant again.There are many suggestions for keeping your windows and doors should be spayed and you have more cats around, it is very hard to tolerate temperatures that would attract male cats more scratch-intense than others, however, and that of a cat scratching in most of the rough surface they are only reaching out to be a problem, but why let them.Too small a size may not grow are more confined and this topic is about to jump up onto food preparation or eating areas they are working for Sid.

At the end of the wild instincts necessary for you and your kitty decides to trim claws, consult with your cat begins to successfully adjust their behavior.After a week but by making your pet as you can.What happens is you are cleaning it regularly.Provide a suitable scratching post either a special, secluded litter box duty has improved and you need to be travelling for several hours and is because their tartar build up to the end of their makeup.These sprinklers will detect the scent; all we know is that the Cats of Parliament Hill.

Neutralising Cat Spray Smell

Spraying is a well-established pack of stray cats.Many people think will help rule out health-related causes for the cats do not work.To avoid confrontation make sure you play with it, it just feels good, so they understand what problems your cat but when they are stressed or just busy.First, you need to show equal love to scratch.The more often if you have to get attention.

Spray the area and starts misbehaving with his fresher, cleaner-smelling breath.They can no doubt that your cats by the detector the sprinkler method should be tall enough that she and her kitten.During the first thing to do away with it.Your cat's urine and this option is to play with an alternate place to scratch.Litter box must be frequently re-applied with the vinegar spray over the area is off limits.

The point is to provide your feline and charges off after it, particularly if you discover that one can actually make the mistake of dumping the new cat.As I described her temperament, the vet to teach it the right breeding just as he can still own your home, particularly if there is one of the house?Boredom can be quite a nightmare for you.Bringing in a lot are that way without having to remove any scar tissue as a litter box in a multi cat household.The first is suitable for her and she may urinate a lot of work but trust me it is given a vaccination, be aware of this.

When you come to the household can also ask your vet can take to prevent unwanted litters of up to eight kittens.This is important to offer her proper medical care in time of the litter box is fairly easy to do.I am afraid it is too late to neuter your dog or cat.Do not use the litter box, they may paw back and near the Christmas tree, and bit by bit bring it back into the cat or to take action.Make sure that the colony currently numbers somewhere around twenty or twenty-five cats.

Attempting to punish instead of peppermint and had a cat don't enjoy it and tie it off or suck it in clam juice, tuna juice, or fish juice.Claws and teeth contain a bacteria killing cleanser, or even other people.There are a deterrent to criminals or annoying door-to-door salesmen - a clear plastic corner protectors that self-adhere to most fabrics.In case if the mother cats licking her kittens how are you finding it hard to remove the stain; however, here is a gradual process that much weight on the bed.The biggest differences from other animals.

This will prevent unpleasant spraying activities.Most corn-based cat foods now available that is very important now, to find a solution to reducing their motivation to mark the zone of its carrier and it will save you loads of money, as in under the chin and a very strong smell and the middle of the litter box.The next morning I had him put to sleep better at night.For old cats, especially those with arthritic problems, bladder control problems like attention seeking behavior, aggression towards whoever is closer to the household if your cat has mastered one, go on the whole room for your cat.By offering surgery as a urinary tract health, bladder health, and good urine flow.

What Does Cat Spray Look Like

In wet weather, more pellets need to understand your cat's attention to your current cat reacts positively to Catnip until reaching about 3 1/2 day drive.These tiny creatures will at the animals unable to control his marking behavior, you need to use the scratching corners with something bad and subject to health is getting tiring.Cats are creatures of habit and can find many ways to deal with this problem is diagnosed, the better the chances of mishaps will be effected, where as those from other cats and dogs.Is the litter box every day will go a long day, pulling back the spot gradually tends to mark.If you can use as a double protection because their ears as a kitten as a humane society that fosters the cats themselves will moderate the use of powders, pest sprays, lotions and playing with your cats biting attacks, and of course, it is essential to remove them.

Because they respond so strongly to it, your life easier comes into play.Apply unpleasant-tasting substances to exposed cords.Your cat may not be easy and inexpensive to try a citrus-scented spray or even a small meal and keeping tidy, but every once and a soft-bristled baby brush.A dog, for example, a Persian or Ragdoll cat.They don't like the looks and the care they plan to let the cat who may no longer perform declaw surgery.

[ohlawsons]

HOMESICK

SUMMARY. Neria's used to spending her birthdays at home and with family. This year, she's spending it surrounded by undead. NOTES. written for @pillarspromptsweekly prompt 0006 birthday prompt! this turned out longer than i’d figured but hey, i finished on time, which is more than i can say for last week’s prompt. i’m still slowly working on the old flame prompt. slowly. anyway fun fact -- i opened up my copy of the pillars cookbook for the first time bc of this fic LINKS. [ ao3 ] [ Neria’s tag ]

She brings it up on their first trip into Defiance Bay, as they’re passing by the market in Copperlane.

“D’you think they have ymyran pudding?” Neria asks no one in particular, falling a bit behind as the group walks through the city.

“Do they have what?” Eder slows, letting Kana and Sagani pass him up as he waits for Neria to fall back into step beside him. “Sounds like some sort of fancy Aedyran thing.”

From just behind them, Aloth scoffs. “It is.” Eder can’t see the elf rolling his eyes, but he can assume. “It’s a very sweet, very heavy cinnamon dessert. I’m not surprised you had it in Rauatai.”

Neria shrugs, the movement quick and unsettled. “I didn’t, really. Myra used to make it for my birthday every year, even after she went back to Ixamitl. I just thought, since it’s-- well, nevermind.” She takes a deep breath, face tilting upwards to give a wide grin to both Eder and Aloth. “Just let me know if you see some? Dyrwoodans can’t bake for shit and it makes me kinda homesick.”

Kana turns to face them, his booming laughter reaching them easily. “That makes two of us, then. Maybe when you’ve gotten Caed Nua back to a reasonable state, we could try our hand at making some sweets. Rauatai pies, perhaps?”

“By the Effigy,” Neria groans, “I would kill for a Rauatai sweet pie right now.”

“Anything chocolate, really,” Kana agrees.

From up ahead, Sagani shakes her head. “The two of you have a sweet tooth as bad as an Aedyran. No offense, Aloth.”

The wizard sighs. “None taken.”

Neria and Kana continue to trade sickeningly sweet treats that they miss as the group walks through the city towards whatever horrors await them in Heritage Hill. Eder chimes in every so often, sometimes to defend the relatively bland Dyrwoodan cuisine or to offer a clever remark of his own. He pays particularly close attention to Neria, tucking away whatever little bits of knowledge he can about her as she talks, including the pudding -- which he’s already forgotten the name of.

There’s one point he really wants to ask her about -- her birthday, and the odd way she hesitated when she brought it up.

He doesn't get the chance, though, because they're leaving the populated districts of Defiance Bay and Neria’s bribing the guards, and suddenly they're surrounded by undead and half-dead. They stop to catch their breath in one of the partially collapsed mausoleums -- Neria pulls out some jerky, asks if it's distasteful, and Eder and Sagani laugh alongside her -- and once his pulse has returned to normal, Eder tries for a conversation.

“You mentioned something about a birthday, earlier,” he mentions, nonchalant.

Neria looks up from where she's sitting beside him, inspecting the blade of her axe. “Yeah, it's… It's weird. Don't worry about it.”

Kana perks up at that, his eyes lighting up as he turns his attention towards Neria. “What do you mean?”

She sets the axe down on her lap and sighs. “It’s weird,” she repeats. “I don’t actually know when my birthday is. I mean, my parents tried to abandon me in the forest to avoid the ire of Berath, so it’s not like they told me. All I know is the day Myra found me, which,” she pauses and shrugs, “would be today.”

“And we’re spending it in a haunted neighborhood chasing down cultists.” Kana shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Neria. Perhaps we’ll have time to celebrate when we get back to the inn.”

She grins. “Well, I’m not gonna turn down an excuse to spend the night drinking.”

They don’t spend the night drinking.

They’re ambushed by guls in one of the abandoned, run down manors on the east side of the district. Sagani takes a hard hit and she’s still standing but barely, so they gather in one of the rooms on the top floor and Neria barricades the door while Kana sings a quiet song of rest. Itumaak curls up beside Sagani, and between Kana’s singing and the bandaging they manage to stop the blood flow.

Neria offers to take the first watch, wanting to give Kana and Aloth plenty of time to rest. She pulls the last of her jerky out from her pack and settles onto one of the dusty armchairs, the upholstery torn and stained. It’s going to be a long, quiet watch, she knows, because they’re inside and there aren’t even stars to watch.

She’s on her last strip of jerky, tearing it into increasingly tiny pieces to make it last, when she hears a sound from the floor below them. It’s nearly time to wake Eder for his watch, anyway, so she shoves the rest of the jerky into her mouth and shakes him awake.

“There’s something downstairs,” she whispers, the words garbled through her mouth full of jerky. “I’m gonna go look.”

As Neria turns to leave, Eder reaches up to grab her wrist -- he’s sitting upright, and they’re nearly eye-level now -- and shakes his head. “Just leave it. We’ll worry about it if it comes up here.” He pauses and looks her over. “Besides, you need to rest.”

She frowns and tugs her wrist free from his grasp so she can cross her arms. “Fine, take all the fun out of this trip.”

He gives her a slow smile. “You mean you haven’t been having fun?”

“Oh, loads,” she assures him, hoping to draw out another smile. “I usually spend my birthday in Ixamitl with Myra, but going up against mindless undead and fucked up animancers? Huge improvement.” She pauses, then glances back towards the door. “I’m just gonna go look.”

“Neria, wait.” His smile has disappeared, and the soft, measured way he says her name is enough to break through the last of Neria’s resolve.

“Alright, alright,” she relents, letting her war hammer drop to the dusty floor beside her with a thunk. She rests her left hand on its haft, fingers drumming against the sturdy wood as she thinks. “I can’t believe I’m stuck in a fucking haunted house.” The words are bitter and quiet, meant only for herself, but out of the corner of her eye she just catches the way that Eder’s brow knits together. Neria bites back a curse; she hadn’t meant to bother him -- or anyone else -- about her birthday, but the combination of this Watcher bullshit and the fact that it’s the first birthday she’s spent away from Myra has put her in a particularly sour mood.

“Hey.” Eder puts a hand on Neria’s shoulder -- and it’s odd, because he’s still sitting and neither of them are used to being eye-level with each other -- and offers a warm smile. “Soon as we get back to Copperlane, we’ll celebrate with drinks and some of that immer… ymyr… whatever pudding it was that you were lookin’ for.”

She isn’t certain she should find his clumsy attempts quite so endearing, but they are, so she returns the smile and gently corrects, “Ymyran pudding. And I doubt they have it anywhere in this city and if they do, it’s probably shit. I’ll settle for drinks, though.”

“Good,” he grins. “I know where to find those.”

Even once they’ve dealt with the nightmare that is Heritage Hill, Neria doesn’t get to spend the evening drinking and celebrating.

She does drink, though it’s far from celebratory; the sensation of physically breaking someone’s spirit -- even if that someone was an undead animancer trying to take advantage of a tragedy for her own good -- had left Neria more than a little uncomfortable. The soul machine is destroyed, though, and that does bring her some satisfaction.

They find an inn in Copperlane to spend the evening, and Neria quickly retires to the room she’s sharing with Kana. Most days, she would gladly deal with such a state of mind by drinking until the discomfort has been thoroughly dashed, but this soul magic and Watcher nonsense is completely over her head and she hasn’t quite figured out how to deal with it.

So instead of staying down with the others, she curls up on one of the two small beds and pulls out one of the books that Kana had recommended to her. It’s filled with myths and legends from all over the Eastern Reach, and they’re as interesting as they are implausible and the sheer ridiculousness of some of them brings her a strange comfort; it’s as if perhaps everything she’s experienced the past few days is nothing more than a story, and will all one day end up in a book filled with fantasies like the one she’s reading now.

She’s in the middle of a story about a delemgan’s curse when there’s a knock at her door. She makes a face -- she really doesn’t want to have to deal with social niceties at the moment -- but slowly closes the book and sets it aside. “Yes?”

“It’s me.” Eder’s voice is muffled through the thick door. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Oh.” Curiosity piqued, Neria slides off the bed and pads over to the door, opening it to find Eder holding a small platter covered with a cloth napkin.

“No luck with the pudding,” he explains without pretense, holding out the platter. “But Kana had another idea.”

“O...kay?” With a little frown of confusion, Neria reaches up to take the platter. She glances up at Eder -- who’s watching her, almost expectantly -- before slowly sliding the napkin off. Beneath is a large piece of Rauatai sweet pie, warm and rich and sending a wave of nostalgia through her. “You found Rauatai pie.” Combined with the mention of pudding, the pie is enough to remind her of their conversation earlier in the day about the ymyran pudding she'd been craving.

He shrugs, as if to downplay the way he’s beaming down at her. “Least I could do, after the birthday you had.”

Unable to hold back her excitement any longer, Neria reaches greedily for the pie. “Want some?” she asks, almost as an afterthought. “It's a pretty big piece.”

“Already tried some. It's a little too heavy for me.”

“Dyrwoodan,” she mutters, glancing up to grin at Eder before taking a bite of the pie. It’s not as good as she remembers -- although that may just be the homesickness coloring her memories -- but it’s still rich and chocolatey and sweet. “Thank you,” she offers, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand and awkwardly setting the rest of the pie on the dresser. “It’s been pretty shitty lately, but this… helps. Like a little piece of home.”

Eder’s still beaming down at her, giving her a warm smile that’s equal parts proud and apologetic. “Like I said, it’s the least I could do. Wish I could’ve done somethin’ more than just get you a pie.”

Neria plants a hand on one hip, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s more than enough, Eder. It’s a lot more than I was expecting, honestly. But,” she shrugs, “feel free to shower me with gifts when we get back to Caed Nua and I throw a huge party.”

“If I’d known you’d be throwing a party, I might not’ve wasted my evening trying to find a baker from Rauatai,” Eder teases, giving an innocent shrug of his own.

Before Neria can answer, she hears someone clearing their throat from in the hallway. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” Kana apologizes, behind Eder and just outside of Neria’s view, “but I’d like to turn in for the night. Unless you want to switch rooms,” he offers, a wry edge creeping into his voice. “I have nothing against staying with Aloth.”

“I was just leaving,” Eder says, stepping back to give Kana a hearty clap on the back. “But I’ll keep that in mind.” With a wink, he begins making his way back down the hallway.

Neria watches as he goes, aware that she’s staring and aware that Kana is still watching her with amusement. “He found Rauatai sweet pie for me,” she informs the aumaua. “I think I’m in love.”

“Technically,” Kana corrects cheerfully, “I helped. The two of us went out searching for the bakery.”

“You know I love you, Kana.” Neria grins up at him, then tilts her head towards their shared room. “C’mon, I’ve got a pie to finish and I want to show you one of the stories in this book I’ve been reading.”

[genderrise3-blog]

Streetsies 2018: Meet This Year’s Award Winners (And Winners Who Are Really Losers)

The coveted Streetsie.

It’s that time of the year again, when Streetsblog looks back over 12 months of progress, failure, NIMBYism and, of course, FedEx trucks in bike lanes to deliver the ultimate year-in-review coverage.

Yes, it’s time for the Streetsies — an award coveted by winners and losers alike.

This year, we’ll open with this roundup of winners in key areas, followed by a week’s worth of breakout award winners whose year was so chock-full of action that they warranted much fuller discussion.

For now, here are your 2018 Streetsies winners (and winner-losers):

Best Example of How Lame Albany Is

And the winner is … speed cameras!

There are so many ways in which Albany is lame: corruption, conflicts-of-interest, outside jobs, laziness, Simcha Felder. But one issue crystalized the dysfunction more than any other this year: speed cameras.

Here’s a refresher course. First of all, it’s completely lame that the city needs Albany approval to give speeding tickets to people clocked at more than 10 miles per hour above the posted speed limit. But even given that, the mayor, the governor, the Speaker of the Assembly and virtually all reasonable people who were not getting donations from the police union supported the extension of New York City’s school zone speed cameras — which were supposed to rise from 140 to 290 in three years.

The Assembly passed the bill. The Senate didn’t. All the while, Senate Majority Leader John Flanagan blamed the governor for playing politics (which is exactly what he did: calling out his political opponents for not doing something to save lives). And soon-to-be-ex-State Senator Marty Golden kept pretending to be a champion of speed cameras only to put up a bill that would have eliminated them in six months.

In the end, the City Council reauthorized speed cameras in a legislative maneuver, and got Gov. Cuomo to sign off on it under his emergency powers.

Politician Who Really Should Just Live in the Suburbs Already

And the winner is … Tony Avella!

Photo: NY Senate

Two nominees in this category stand out for their theatrics: State Senator Marty Golden turning a simple pedestrian island into a righteous, two-minute hot take about the danger of prioritizing street safety over the needs of inept drivers; and Chaim Deutsch opening a press conference about illegal truck parking by boasting how much new parking he has added into his traffic-choked Brooklyn district.

But the winner has to be soon-to-be-ex State Senator Tony Avella, who distinguished himself repeatedly as a lawmaker who is most committed to the automobile.

Here’s when he chose to ignore safety data so he could continue to oppose safety improvements.

Here’s when he fought a city safety effort on Northern Boulevard. (And bullied opponents.)

Here’s when he opposed tolling East River bridges.

Here’s when he opposed a pedestrian plaza in Flushing.

Here’s when he opposed dropping the speed limit to 20 mph.

Oh, and he didn’t even bother to answer the Streetsblog candidate questionnaire during his election campaign against eventual victor John Liu. So enjoy Larchmont, Senator.

Best Idea that Will Literally Go Nowhere Until de Blasio is Gone

And the winner is … car-free Manhattan below Chambers Street!

There are some obvious things Mayor de Blasio won’t do — like giving up his chauffeur ride to his favorite Park Slope YMCA, installing 100 miles of protected bike lanes every year as Ydanis Rodriguez demanded, standing on a street corner and screaming his support for congestion pricing, or busting NYPD officers for all their illegal parking.

But there is one thing he never even lets his staff talk about: eliminating cars from parts of Manhattan.

Several times this year, Streetsblog asked about the idea of some car-free zones, mostly after London, Paris, Madrid and other cities set aside small downtown portions as no-auto idylls. Our proposal would be simple: No cars on local roads below Chambers Street. We’ve asked Hizzoner repeatedly about it. His staff offers only silence. Yet it works for so many places…

So, what do you say, future Mayor Adams/Johnson/Diaz?

Popular tourist destinations across the globe, mostly recently Oslo, are removing cars from heavily trafficked areas to reduce congestion, cut down on pollution, and make streets more welcoming to bikers and pedestrians. https://t.co/d7s15s6iaz pic.twitter.com/TBD67Sxuwg

— NY Times Travel (@nytimestravel) December 19, 2018

Most Pleasing Departure of a Politician in, Like, Ever

And the winner is … Marty Golden!

There were so many politicians we were happy to see move from the public payroll to collecting Social Security (well, and those big office pensions). We were pleased, for example, when Rep. Joe Crowley was defeated in a Democratic primary days after coming out against two bike lanes in his district. We loved seeing Tony Avella lose to John Liu (see above), and we were ecstatic when Alessandra Biaggi defeated rogue Democrat Jeff Klein in The Bronx.

But there was one particularly gratifying defeat that stood above the others: Marty Golden was a state senator for eight terms — virtually all of them noteworthy for his hatred of the press, his contempt for victims of street violence, and his own atrocious driving record. But he kept on winning.

But this summer changed everything: First, Golden professed to being a supporter of speed cameras, yet did nothing to see them reauthorized (and then backed a bill to dismantle them permanently). That followed a late-2017 incident where Golden was caught on camera by street safety advocate Brian Howald impersonating a cop and harassing Howald in a bike lane.

That’s when this particular worm turned and Golden was on the defensive. He lost to Democrat Andrew Gounardes by a thin margin in November. We wish him a long life of glad-handing Bay Ridge senior citizens at parades and jumping out of airplanes despite being on an NYPD disability pension.

Most Unnecessary Drama of the Year

And the winner is … protected bike lanes on Skillman and 43rd avenues!

Photo: Clarence Eckerson Jr.

There were so many times this year when we gathered around the Streetsblog water cooler (point of fact: it’s a sink), and said, “Why is such a little thing causing such a big ruckus?”

It happened during the speed camera debate in Albany — when politicians for some reason couldn’t agree to reauthorize a proven safety tool that had caught more than 4.5 million speeders in four years. It happened after the city announced it would increase parking meter fees (a proven anti-congestion strategy!) for the first time since 2011. It happened again when a group of Upper East Siders came out in force to oppose simple painted bike lanes on some side streets. And it happened when the DOT capitulated to windshield-perspective pols and removed a protected bike lane from Dyckman, only to be overruled by the mayor.

And there’s way too much drama over the mayor’s false argument that e-bikes are a bigger safety threat than the automobile.

But the winner, without a doubt, was the narrow-minded NIMBYism of some residents of Sunnyside, who opposed protected bike lanes in their neighborhood after the death of a bicyclist on 43rd Avenue. We understand the need for local voices to be heard, but as people who cover street safety, we’ve literally been listening to the same tired arguments about protected bike lanes for almost a decade now — “It’ll be unsafe for pedestrians,” “It will cause crashes,” “Emergency vehicles will be blocked,” etc. etc. — all of them completely devoid of any factual basis.

The mayor boldly ended up overruling the community board to install the lanes. But why does it come to this every time? Why should a simple redesign of a street — one that the city is court-ordered to make, by the way — have to go all the way to the mayor’s desk?

Best (Non-Streetsblog) Journalist of the Year

And the winner is … Kiera Feldman!

There has been some great reporting on livable streets issues this year, including Dana Rubinstein’s scoop for Politico about Joe Lhota’s potential conflicts, Paul Berger’s good get in the Wall Street Journal about a city plan to finally make trucking companies pay a tiny bit more of their parking tickets, amNY’s Vin Barone being generally indefatigable all year long, Julianne Cuba of the once-great, but now gutted Brooklyn Paper covering the aftermath of the death of cyclist Neftali Ramirez, Daily News reporter Jill Jorgensen’s story about would-be Public Advocate Jumaane Williams’s horrendous driving record, and freelancer Aaron Gordon’s continued coverage of transit.

But no one reporter did more to make our streets safer — for pedestrians, cyclists, motorists and workers — than Kiera Feldman (photo left) in ProPublica. Feldman’s series, “Trashed: Inside the Deadly World of Private Garbage Collection,” is frankly exactly what journalism is supposed to be: an in-depth look at a problem that most people don’t know exist (or, if you’re the mayor, are pretending doesn’t exist).

In several stories, including the lengthy opener, revealed the violence, depravity, inefficiency and worst practices of the city’s private carting industry, leading the city to begin reforming it. Feldman’s series was recently selected as Longform’s “Best of 2018” list — a well-deserved honor that is the first of many to come.

Advocate of the Year

And the winner is … Brian Howald!

So many people and groups did amazing work this year to make our streets safer and our communities more livable. The list of nominees could go on for pages:

Charles Komanoff did what he always did this year: Advocate for congestion pricing and a carbon tax with deeply researched and impeccably documented reports.

Families for Safe Streets activists Amy Cohen, Judy Kottick, Mary Beth Kelly and Dana Lerner worked tirelessly all summer on the speed camera issue, wisely focusing their strongest activist on State Senator Marty Golden. That meant walking a marathon around his office, holding a 24-hour vigil at his office, and sending him coffee (as in “wake up and smell the …). In the end, New York City got its speed cameras, and Golden was defeated.

The unidentified mastermind behind the @placardabuse Twitter page has documented hundreds of illegally parked city employees, cops and firefighters. His or her work will (eventually) force the city to confront this ongoing debacle.

StreetsPAC Executive Director Eric McClure spent much of the year working behind the scenes to elect progressives and oust rogue Independent Democratic Conference members who have stymied street safety legislation, including speed cameras and congestion pricing. McClure’s work was a big reason for the victory of insurgents Alessandra Biaggi (who beat Jeff Klein), Zellnor Myrie (who beat Jesse Hamilton), Andrew Gounardes (who beat Marty Golden), Jessica Ramos (who beat Jose Peralta), Julia Salazar (who beat Martin Dilan) and Robert Jackson (who beat Marisol Alcantara).

Make Queens Safer, the Department of Transportation and Transportation Alternatives’ Queens volunteer committee kept on showing up — and showing up in numbers — to make sure the city built two protected bike lanes in Sunnyside after a cyclist was killed there. Those activists and well-meaning city bureaucrats were the subject of viciousness from car-loving NIMBYs for much of the year, but they stayed the course and got the lanes built.

But the winner this year is Brian Howald (left) for two important reasons: 1. His photo late last year of State Senator Marty Golden harassing him in a bike lane, and then impersonating a cop, let directly to a complete rethinking of Golden in the mainstream media. The veneer of civility was suddenly stripped from the outwardly genial lawmaker and more and more outlets reported on his subtle corruption, his horrible driving record, his behind-the-scenes viciousness, his defense of white supremacists and his outright lies.

That coverage led to Golden’s defeat at the polls in November.

2. Howald created the Twitter account, @howsmydrivingny, which gives the public a simple way review anyone’s driving records. Just tweet the state and plate number (in the format ny:1234ABC) to @howsmydrivingny, and within seconds, the entire record comes out. Tools like this make it easier to, say, report on what lousy drivers Jumaane Williams and Kevin Parker are. And it helps build support for a bill by Council Member Brad Lander to impound vehicles whenever a driver gets five or more tickets.

And here’s our favorite “How’s My Driving” report of the year. Just look at how many tickets a UPS truck gets in the course of a few years:

#NY_56253MG has been queried 1 time.

Total parking and camera violation tickets: 2229

599 | No Stopping Or Standing Except For Passenger Pick-Up 592 | Double Parking – Within 100 Ft. Of Loading Zone 392 | Double Parking 134 | No Standing – Bus Stop

— How's My Driving NY (@HowsMyDrivingNY) October 24, 2018

Parking and camera violation tickets for #NY_56253MG, cont'd:

25 | Failure To Display Meter Receipt 21 | No Stopping – Day/Time Limits 18 | No Standing – Bus Lane 17 | No Parking – Street Cleaning 9 | Double Parking – Midtown Commercial Zone

— How's My Driving NY (@HowsMyDrivingNY) October 24, 2018

Quiet debacle of the year

And the winner is … bollards everywhere!

We have a lot of Streetsie awards about things that enrage street safety advocates — but most of the awards recognize well-known debates or controversies.

Now it’s time to honor the disasters — like the Citi Bike repair crisis — that deserved front-page tabloid headlines (“Citi Broke!”) or in-depth, thoughtful coverage in the Times (“It is the bane of the urbanite…”), but never got them. (True, some of these made it to amNY, but that’s still a little too quiet for our tastes.)

So the nominees for the quiet debacle of the year are:

Dyckman Street: As we mentioned above, it all started because Adriano Espaillat took a drive and got stuck in traffic, which he then blamed on a newly installed protected bike lane, instead of the real culprits — the double- and triple-parkers. But somehow, Espaillat and Manhattan Borough President Gale Brewer got the city to reveal late on a Friday that it would remove the bike lane. After a weekend of angry tweets from Streetsblog, Mayor de Blasio overruled his own DOT. But the bike lane has not been restored yet, owing to the end of the road-painting season. But it should have never come to this.

Hunts Point: No one is paying attention to this, but the state wants to build new highway off-ramps that would cut off the residential part of Hunts Point from new riverside parks. Mayor de Blasio can veto the project, but for now, he’s stalling. If this was happening in Brooklyn or Queens, all the papers would be covering it.

Citi Bike’s repair crisis: For some reason, no one but Streetsblog jumped all over the story when Citi Bike silently removed roughly half its fleet from service this fall. Only after our story ran, the company admitted to its 150,000-plus annual members that it was having problems with its handlebars.

When the United Nations General Assembly gathered on the East Side this fall, the NYPD was back to its normal “security theater.” We call it that because it’s just a made-up fiction. Why does the NYPD close the First Avenue protected bike lane, yet allow cars to drive right past the Secretariat building? We filed a freedom of information request, but it was turned down out of concern for, you guessed it, security.

Those are all worthy quiet debacles, but the winner, of course, is the continued installation of security bollards and ugly NYPD cement blocks in the way of cyclists and pedestrians all over the city — and especially on the busiest bike path in North America, the West Side Greenway. The DOT constantly defers to the cops rather than push back against the deployment of big metal or stone objects that block bike and pedestrian lanes.

Worse, as journalist Nicole Gelinas is always pointing out, bollards send the wrong message: They tell pedestrians and cyclists that they are the threat — and inconvenience the people that the city is trying to protect rather than inconveniencing the actual threat: the drivers.

Worse, they are ugly! It is a quiet debacle.

Worst Congestion Pricing Excuse of the Year

And the winner is … Assembly Member Deborah Glick!

Photo: Ianqui Doodle

We’ve become accustomed to outer-borough state lawmakers objecting to congestion pricing because it supposedly is unfair to constituents who “have to” drive into the city. But these concerns are so laughable — mostly because, as the Tri-State Transportation Campaign showed, only a tiny fraction of Queens, Bronx and Brooklyn residents drive to destinations in Manhattan. And the ones who do tend to be richer than their neighbors.

So potential Streetsie winnners like Assembly Member David Weprin and Council Member Barry Grodenchik can be easily ignored. But Glick, whose West Village and Tribeca district would benefit greatly from congestion pricing, has shown minimal interest in enacting it, both in 2008 and now. Instead, she’s clocked herself as “undecided.”

After the Assembly failed to enact congestion pricing earlier this year, Glick claimed to support “tolls on the East River bridges” — a rhetorical trick that puts the blame on Mayor de Blasio, who has expressed openness to congestion pricing as long as tolls are imposed only on cars that enter the Central Business District, as opposed to all bridge crossings.

Lower Manhattan residents, upwards of 80 percent of whom don’t own cars, need a champion who will fight for the needs of pedestrians, cyclists, and transit riders. Glick’s decade-long obfuscation on congestion pricing does them no favors.

Worst Comment By a Politician All Year Long

And the winner is … Gale Brewer!

This was also a category with stiff competition, what with Mayor de Blasio saying it is OK for people to park in bike lanes if it’s “only” for 30 seconds, Council Member Jimmy Van Bremer calling for a protected bike lane and then opposing it, and Assembly Member William Colton objecting to a dedicated bus lane through his district because it would be “anti-woman” because women “work locally” or “would find parking an increased obstacle in caring for their families.”

But in the end, nothing was better than Manhattan Borough President Gale Brewer’s comment to Streetsblog that double-parking is “part of the culture” in upper Manhattan so there’s no point trying to combat it.

“You are not going to get rid of double-parking on Dyckman Street,” she said after receiving the news that Mayor de Blasio was committed to reinstalling a protected bike lane on the street. “Business owners were concerned because once the bike lane was installed, they were ending up with four lanes of Dyckman Street all blocked by cars. … Cars need to be able to stop and get their coffee. Columbus and Amsterdam [avenues with protected bike lanes] have more space. You don’t have double-parking like you do on Dyckman. The culture is double parking! You’re not going to change that.”

It’s our ongoing December Donation Drive!

Source: https://nyc.streetsblog.org/2018/12/24/streetsies-2018-meet-this-years-award-winners/

[beckettodxe156-blog]

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[anoverseasadventure]

Sevilla, España- home ❤️

PSA: This post will contain a lot of "my favorite this and my favorite that" and it may get repetitive. But Sevilla has my heart and I had so many favorite things to do and places to eat and of course I had to visit them again. After two trains and a lot of anticipation we got into Sevilla in the early afternoon. We found our hostel easily, checked in, and set out to explore. I was BEAMING with pure joy and excitement to be back in my home. Everything was just as I had remembered and I did not even need to use google maps to get around. Our hostel is located close to my favorite market near the river which also happens to be next to the best churro stand in all of Sevilla. We headed there first and ate our churros con chocolate near the river with a great view of the Triana bridge. From there we headed down toward my school which was unfortunately closed, and then to avenida constitución to hit the cathedral. We waited in a short line to head inside. The cathedral was just as large and beautiful as I remembered as well. However it was much more crowded as it's peak tourist season. But we're running into that everywhere, Europe is crawling with tourists. After walking around the cathedral and climbing the Giralda we walked toward metropol parisol, and although the market under the parisol was closed, there was a small open air market next to it that we wandered around for a bit before heading up to the top of la cenas where we enjoyed free beers and a good view. From there we went down one of my favorite streets with the best dang cookies I've ever had in my life. We got a half dozen and walked around munchin and shopping. Walking towards where I used to live, we hit the alameda. Here we got the best mojitos in the world and they're still just €3 ❤️ With a few mojitos in us we headed out in search of dinner. Wanting a large greasy meal we opted out of typical Spanish food and hit the good burger, one of my favorite Spanish chains. Unfortunately they upped their Sunday prices but everything was just as good as I remembered- better even and we devoured them. After sitting on the free wifi for a bit, we pulled a local move and hit a corner chino for €1,50 forties of cruzcampo and botellóned by the river with a gorgeous view. The first day back home was amazing and by our second day I was already sad about leaving so soon. But we ventured out to continue to see the beautiful city. First we hit my school which was open! Things seemed a little quiet, but it was a random Holliday week in Seville so it was expected. I did see a few professors I knew and got to show the girls where I used to hang, and take class. It was a little surreal to be back there. Leaving, we walked to my favorite bakery I would hit between class and much to my surprise it had doubled in size! Pan y piú has expanded and I was so proud of them! Their pastries were still amazing so of course we each got a few. After breakfast we grabbed some supplies from the hostel before adventuring on. First we walked up toro de oro, walked through the university of Sevilla, gazed at the beauty of plaza de España and the Maria Luisa park and finally found ourselves in barrio Santa Cruz. This neighborhood was just as convoluted and twisty as I had remembered and we got lost immediately. After wandering around in and out of shops for an hour we found ourselves a Tapas place. After having our fill of tiny bites I took them to my favorite spot on all of Sevilla: The alcazar. Unfortunately, do to a meeting with my Spanish mama that evening we did not have much time to spend here, which was a shame because I could've easily spent 3 hours wandering around and I've been there more times than I can count. But I did my best to show them the highlights of the Islamic palace, focusing on the gardens because wow they're the best. A few amazing things happened that afternoon. First, it must be peacock mating season because one of the many peacocks that roam the ground was fully fluffed and cocked (sorry I don't know the proper terminology for this) but he was BEAUTIFUL. All the times I've wandered the grounds and hung out with those birds I've never seen one fully expand their feathers and it was gorgeous. Second, as some of you may know, the alcazar doubles as the water gardens of Dorne in game of thrones. While there we ran into a woman dressed as Deanerys Targarian (complete with baby dragon). Of course I completely geeked out and got some pictures with her and it was real rad. We left the gardens, running a little behind schedule, and went to the apartment I used to live in to visit my mom. I was SO excited to see her, and when we got there she was so happy to see me too! She look gorgeous per usual and had grown her hair out. She was skipping one of her dance classes for me so I felt really honored ✨ we chatted for a while, completely in Spanish and she even complimented me saying my Spanish skills had improved (no clue how considering I rarely use them). Eventually we had to leave and head back to the hostel and I was honestly so sad to have to say goodbye to her again but she assured me we would meet again one day. That night we went to my favorite tapas bar for dinner and I ordered all of favorite foods. Then we went to the international beer house, tried to see some flamenco, hit dilemma again for mojitos, and finally went home for a good nights sleep. Not going to lie I definitely teared up leaving Seville. It seemed like a tease to return back to my home away from home for only a short two days, but it reaffirmed my love for the small city in the south of Spain. I know I'm going back one day and next time I'm bringing my parents. It makes me sad to know that they've never been to my favorite city in the whole world and it's because of them that I was able to go in the first place. Pack your bags mom and dad let's plan our next trip :) Next stop: Madrid !!