Storage Unit Serenade 47

I told myself I would get another one of these in this month.  So, I guess I did.

Warning: there might be a bug or two in this one.

Stats

Pre-Eighties Songs: 9
Eighties Songs: 15
Nineties Songs: 10
Aughts Songs: 5
Teens Songs: 7  
Twenties Songs: 1

June Sweeps - Day 515

There was road construction on the way to the cabin today.  Oh, it's been going on the last month, with a little stretch with only a single lane, but this was way more ambitious today, miles of it, and when the traffic stopped . . . it really stopped.  The guy in the truck ahead of me actually got out of his vehicle and walked around, either to check his rig or to stretch his legs, killing time, and I rolled all my windows down and shut off the engine and just hung out, thinking.  I didn't have anywhere I needed to be, and no worries as far as time went.

But something even more unusual happened during the drive today.  I was passing by some fields, when a bunch of little yellow objects started hitting my car.  I thought it was bees for a moment, but then I splattered a few of them on my windshield, and I realized they were grasshoppers--hundreds of them, all flying or jumping beside the highway.  Because my windows were open, a couple of them actually made it into the car with me, and I took a picture of one (this one dying) on my pantleg as I drove.  When I got to the cabin, I cleared a couple more out of the back seat (alive), and from the well below the windshield wipers (dead).  

It started raining before I got up the canyon, and the temperature dropped from the nineties in town, all the way down to the fifties up here.  I'm actually wearing a jacket while I type this, which I figured was preferable to making a fire (it's forbidden right now anyway because of the drought and the wildfires, but also, I can't build a fire that doesn't go out to save my life).

One of my goals for June was to get my story "Waffle Iron Man" published, and since it'll be July when I come back, that's not going to happen.  I did sit down, though, and do the cover art drawing today (something I've meant to do for three months now).  I saw last week that my nephew had some crayons, so I brought a sheet of paper up (a single sheet, since I figured it didn't have to look very good), and sat down to do the art.

It's supposed to look like the work of a child, and so I used my left hand to draw it, but the damned crayons were all worn down so that none of them had any points, and that made the art look really light, and hard to photograph.  So I went over it again, "sharpening" two or three of the crayons on a napkin, this time with my right hand.

It doesn't look perfect--not like I wanted it in my head--but it'll have to do.  I had considered asking Big or Gino to get their sons to draw it for me, but I hate to be beholden to others for this stuff, and it's doubly-hard to ask for help when I know I can't do the work for myself.*  In retrospect, I might have asked one of my nephews to do the art for me, or at least to write the lettering, so that it looked more like a kid did it, but I wanted it to look like I wanted it to look, and you know, I'm going to say that it looks fine and move on.

I also set a goal of going on a hike every month this year, and I didn't actually do any hiking in June, unless you call traipsing around the lake and the nearby hills the last couple of weeks.  I told myself I could at least walk to the top of what I like to think of as the "Sound of Music" hill behind the lake, where the melting snow runs down in little streams to feed the lake.  But today it was raining, and when I went up to the lake to either walk around or sing a song (I had two possibilities in mind, but have neither one memorized), it was just so cold and windy (and dark--even though the sun goes down around 8:45 or 9:00, it was already dark by seven) that I didn't want to try.

Yes, it doesn't look rainy here.  But that's because I took this picture tomorrow.

Sit-ups Today: 100

Sit-ups In June: 3242

I continue to write the long-form Lara Demming story**, and this one is largely sans Holcomb.  It's been delightful to write so many of these in such a short time, but I do wonder if I'll ever go back to the "Dead & Breakfast" series (and my friends Natalie, Mason, and Meeshelle), or to the COVID-inspired outpost story I got about halfway through at the start of the year, or the Will Choner sequel that I started and abandoned.  Of course, there's always "Balms & Sears," and it's funny, I looked at a blog post from 2018 that mentioned that story, and that I was getting close to finishing it then.  So sad.

It's so sad that I can't see things through to the end.  But it's also so sad that I can't stay focused on one thing, or motivate myself to finish old stories, or put out the ones that I have finished.

I've been reading Stephen King's latest collection, "If It Bleeds" here at the cabin, and the most recent story I read was actually three short stories bound together in three acts, but King tells the story backwards (with the first part telling the death of this character Chuck Kranz, the second one about something that happens in his adulthood, and the third one about his childhood).  I don't know how one comes to the decision to tell a story backwards like that, except that King has been doing this a hell of a long time (I've been writing every day for five hundred days, but imagine if I'd been doing that for twenty, thirty, forty years . . . how many tales would I have old?), and he has to keep himself entertained somehow.

Push-ups Today: 50

Push-ups In June: 3633

I went upstairs to do some sit-ups just now, and afterward, I "rewarded" myself by going out on the upper deck, high up among the trees, and gazed out into the darkness.  It was kind of glorious, but because of the cold (I'm still wearing the jacket), there was almost no sound out there, no crickets, no birds, no bugs.  I did hear an owl once, which was kind of baleful, and at one point, I heard something moving down below, in front of the cabin, but too dark to see.

It should have been pretty terrifying, but there was a sense of safety being way up on the third floor, knowing that unless whatever it was was supernatural (and hey, don't rule that out, come on), it couldn't possibly get to me up there.

And there went June, kids.

Words Today: 1393

Words In June: 26,209

*I remember working on the TV series "House M.D." in about 2005, and I played a patient in a wheelchair, that another extra playing a nurse (this one a regular, featured extra) pushed around the hospital.  We did take after take, and I kept apologizing that she had to wheel me around, saying stuff like "If I'd have known you'd have to push me for two hours, I wouldn't have super-sized my meal last night" and "Okay, next take, I'll wheel you around in this thing," thinking I was amusing, and finally she said, "Why don't you shut the hell up and let me do my job?"

It was surprising and harsh and made me think I wasn't taking my "acting role" seriously, so I shut up and let her do her job.  I think I saw her two or three times again after that, every time I worked on "House," and always steered clear, as though the sour bitch would remember me.  But when I watched through the series, years later, I sure remembered her, every time she was on screen.

**I did a word count just now (the one thing that still works out here, even if there's no internet), and it's at 16,258 words--which is less than I have for the month.  Still, if I consider that I'm halfway done with the story, that's not quite novel-length at all.  Which is fine.  Age ain't nothin' but a number.

June Sweeps - Day 514

So, the month is pretty much over, and I haven't achieved my goals.  I needed to create cover art for "Waffle Iron Man," put out two Storage Unit songs, go on a hike, and publish some story (might've been the "Waffle Iron" one).  And now there's a single day left, so . . . not going to happen now.

But like the Tim McGraw song goes, "Well, you do what you do and you pay for your sins; And there's no such thing as what might've been."

I'm going to write today, even if you don't.  Heck, I might write today BECAUSE you won't.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In June: 3148

Speaking of Big Anklevich, I got this idea in my head today of establishing that Old Widow Holcomb has an inexplicable weakness.  Much like Silver Age Green Lantern's powers didn't work on the color yellow (so, for example, Hal Jordan was helpless against a serial rapist with a yellow t-shirt on), I thought it would be fun for Holcomb to mention some absurd loophole under which her magic constantly fails (like, say, a person with a green feather in their hat or hair, or even weirder, anyone listening to John Denver).  

I thought it would be an amusing throwaway line in one of these early stories, but when I finally get to that tale where Lara attacks her teacher, she uses the weakness against her ("What is that awful screeching, Lara?"  "It's called Aye, Calypso, and it's gonna help me kick your ass!").

Of course, it can't be a John Denver song, that's just stupid.  But Big didn't answer his phone, so I guess I'll have to give it more thought.

Push-ups Today: 190
Push-ups In June: 3583

I asked Big (via text) for the name of the star basketball player at Miller's Fork High School, and he suggested Tavarious Benjamin.  It's such a rough name, I pity the fool who, in April of 2022, will have to say it out loud for the audiobook.

Afterward, I got together with my cousin, and we watched "Loki," as we have for a month now.  I liked it a lot, but boy, it spoke to my hatred for bureaucracy and rules and higher-ups in official positions, and with each new episode, I root for the downfall of the Time Variance Authority, and wonder if I'm the only one who feels that way. 

Words Today: 1202
Words In June: 24,816

June Sweeps - Day 513

Only a couple of days left in June.  Darn it.

Sit-ups Today: 111 (even with doing an extra eleven a day, I'll never catch up to push-ups)
Sit-ups In June: 3048

Skull! Skull! Skull!  You will die!

A computer before the computer before now, I wrote all of my stories on an old program called Word Perfect.  And when I'd open those old files on a newer computer, or send them to Big's Mac-based system, it would sometimes translate the files in a weird way.  And the weirdest is that it would convert the * * * that I had in between sections of my stories into a row of three skulls.  Honestly, I don't know how that could happen, but it endlessly amused me to see them show up on Big's computer . . . and when we'd narrate the stories, he would always point out the death's heads by saying, "Skull! Skull! Skull!  You will die!"

I miss those days.

Push-ups Today: 66
Push-ups In June: 3393

Now, this is something kind of fun to share with you.  I opened my mom's fridge yesterday, and saw something odd staring back at me.  Yes, it was a tomato, as a matter of fact.  How did you guess?

I was standing at the exact spot for the tomato to look a certain way, so I called my ten year old nephew over to look where I was looking.  He saw it too.

I called my mom over.  She said, "What?  A tomato that looks exactly like Death.  What about it?"

What indeed.

Words Today: 1079
Words In June: 23,614

June Sweeps - Day 512

I really ought to go on a hike today.  It's the last Sunday of the month, and I doubt walking around the lake up by the cabin counts.  I can't decide, though.

I also ought to write a bit more on the story.  

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In June: 2937

Well, night fell and now it is time for me to get my writing done.  And big shock . . . I don't feel like doing it.  My options are to finally sit down and record another story (it has to have been a month or more since I started a new one), or I could sit down and write a few paragraphs on the Lara Demming story.  I really don't want to do either, but I oughtta.

Push-ups Today: 190
Push-ups In June: 3327

I didn't end up with many words tonight, but you know how it is.  I did sit down and record half of the next Lara Demming story, the one called "Made Just For You."  I could probably have gotten to the end, just in one sitting, but I didn't feel like it.  I suppose I'm a "the bare minimum is good enough" kind of person.  Which is not a point of pride, I understand.

Words Today: 387 
Words In June: 22,535

June Sweeps - Day 511

I woke up insanely late today, but it was cloudy enough I thought it was before my alarm.  I got up and went to the bathroom, but then glanced at the clock.  Whoops.  No going back to sleep after that.

It put me behind with everything today, work, lunch, the library (just got here, and it closes in an hour).  But that's fine.  If I can focus like I did yesterday, I should have between five hundred and a thousand words in.

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In June: 2826

Today was the deadline for getting in my lines for "The Deadbringer" audio drama, and of course, I left it to the last minute (okay, technically, I left it until several hours after the last minute).  I turned on my recorder to get the lines done at 1:30am, and found that the first line to record was the following:

                EUTAU: (agonized scream)

                Eutau’s agony ripped through the night.

Hell of a thing to leave until the middle of the night.

So, I ended up recording all my other lines, and after those were done, I TRIED to do an agonized scream, but where the pain was so great I couldn't manage any volume.  It didn't really work.  It ended up sounding like when you're a kid and pretending to shout but not really so you don't get in trouble with your parents or neighbors.  I'll have to do the scream tomorrow.

Push-ups Today: 100
Push-ups In June: 3137

I took my mom to the Burlington Coat Factory today, because she had to return a blouse.  At the door, several versions of this sign were posted:

I read it over, watched a pair of customers go in, not wearing masks, and read the sign again.  It seemed to imply everybody, whether they worked there or not, whether they were vaccinated or not, was required to wear a mask while inside.  Even if they didn't feel like it?  Even Republicans?  So I put one on and went in, wandering around while my mother did her return.

Only the employees were wearing masks inside.  I couldn't figure it out.  There was a kiosk at the entrance, next to a (mask-wearing) woman who greeted people, that was full of complimentary masks, but she didn't confront, grab, criticize, or throttle any of the people who came in and ignored her.

Was I the jackass, because I had gone back to where we were in November, and was wearing a mask?  Why had I seen the sign (that opened up my eyes), and no one else had?

Eventually, I did see a family wearing masks in the shoe section of the store.  But they were the masks from that movie THE STRANGERS.  Not exactly comforting, in retrospect.

Words Today: 422
Words In June: 22,148

June Sweeps - Day 510

Not much to say today.  Still, that hasn't stopped me over the past year or so.

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In June: 2715

I complained two posts ago about my phone being unwilling to send photos to my computer, for me to post on my blog.  It's still going on.  It claims that the Dropbox app is full--well, 99.9% full--and no matter how many files I delete (I'm around fifty now), the number doesn't change.

One of the photos I was trying to post was of the robin's nest right outside the cabin's front door.  I climbed up there to take a picture, and the baby bird wasn't in it.  So I took a couple more, and yes, the nest was empty.  They must mature INSANELY fast, for it to have flown off already.  Or it fell out and was eaten by rodents.  Hmm.

Push-ups Today: 189
Push-ups In June: 3037

I hit the library, and once again dicked around until it was nearly too late to write (no wait, that's what I'm doing right now.  Whoops), but then focused on my story (it's the Senior year Lara and the Witch story I keep mentioning), and before I knew it, they were trying to get rid of us.

There was a very attractive library employee downstairs, not wearing a mask (the two upstairs both had masks on, and I asked them if the mask policy had changed again.  One told me it was just their personal preference to wear masks, and I got the impression they wished I had put pants on that day), and I asked her if they ever found people sleeping in the library when they were trying to close.  I remembered that time there was a dude sleeping on the floor upstairs and they flashed the lights, then turned them off as I was making my way down the stairs.*  I told the dubiously good-looking woman about my experience that time . . . and she didn't believe me.

"We don't turn off the lights upstairs," she said.  "We might blink them to let people know we're closing, but we wouldn't shut them off."

I nodded, and went on my way.  Maybe I have a liar's face or something.

Words Today: 1854
Words In June: 21,726

*I blogged about that, right?  I had to turn on my phone's flashlight to get down the stairs, because it was wintertime and pitch black by the time they were closing.  I told an employee by the door that there was a guy still up there, in the dark.

They harvested his organs.

Storage Unit Serenade 46

I had major problems with the last two videos, and put both of them on hold.  Then I skipped way ahead . . . and may be back on track now.

Stats

Pre-Eighties Songs: 9
Eighties Songs: 15
Nineties Songs: 10
Aughts Songs: 4
Teens Songs: 7  
Twenties Songs: 1

June Sweeps - Day 509

Well, it's raining.  Up here anyway.

As I've mentioned--though probably should mention more--there's a drought happening in the American West and Southwest, with some counties raising their alert level to whatever's right beneath Emergency.  My dad would say that the farmers really need the rain, so I'll not complain about it.

I woke up extraordinarily early, hearing a strange, unidentifiable sound.  It sounded like the hum of power lines.  I hear it now and I can't figure it out--I thought someone had left a radio on upstairs, or maybe a fan (though only one of those people who complains that it's too hot at seventy-two degrees [you know who you are] could need a fan going up in the mountains here), but what it seems to be is the sound of very light rain on the tin roof.  I can't find any other explanation.

Turned out, it was my laptop.  Not a great sign, really.

As I type this, the sun is just clearing the trees, and there's a bright blue section of sky to the east, all clean and pure, like a pre-fame Christina Aguilera (or a thirty year old Kelly Clarkson, I suppose).  The sound--whatever it was--has gone, and there is a preternatural silence right now, with only the ticking of the clock and the beating of of the heart beneath the floorboards accompanying me (I did close the one open window I had in the room, so I'm sure that helps).  Now I hear the rumble of an engine coming up the road, and stare out at the stillness of the morning.*

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In June: 2604

Last week, my brother told me he had tried to look at the photos his motion-detecting camera had taken, but they hadn't worked.  He had set up the camera (there may be two of them) to know whether the badger was gone or not, but claimed that when he put the SD card in his phone, it was blank.  Or he couldn't access it.  I hadn't brought my laptop, but I told him I'd check.

(I'll try to get a picture of the actual camera, but this looks like the model)

So I went out during a lull in the rain to bury something, and also to see if I could get it to work.  I grabbed the card, brought it inside, and stuck it in my laptop.  There were 281 photos, many of which were just caused by the wind.  

But there were a couple where deer had walked past the lens, and several with big ole woodchucks in them, and many more with ground squirrels running past.  In one or two, there was a longer, more weasel or fox-like animal walking by, with a long tail (my brother will surely be able to recognize what it is).  In a half dozen more, I was in the photos, looking gross as usual, and in one or two, my brother was walking around.

There was one of myself after dark (and I remember it going off, because it was the first time I'd noticed the camera), with that white-skinned, washed-out, big black-eyed look of night vision to it.  I wish I'd thought to copy it and include it here.  

But there were no badgers.  I think it's safe to say it's gone.**

It was fun to scroll back and forth on the photos, watching the shadows lengthen throughout the day, looking at the timestamp and temperature stamp on each one.  I get why they're included . . . and I suspect these cameras are intended to capture images of people instead of animals.

Of course, in my mind, the whole time I was looking at the photos, I was thinking, "What if I saw something I couldn't identify, something that's not supposed to be out in the woods?"  And then, looking at my own unearthly night-vision photo, I wondered about seeing a woman walking in the woods, maybe very old, maybe very young and underdressed, not using a flashlight, her eyes blacker than my own had been.

Freaked out, I'd copy the picture to my hard drive, take my laptop over to my brother, and show him the picture . . . and the woman's gone.

Push-ups Today: 50
Push-ups In June: 2848

What?  It was young Christina Aguilera out there the whole time?  Wait a minute, how did that picture end up on my blog?

Anyway . . .

If you could see what I accomplished today, you'd be pretty sickened.  I went from the couch to the chair and back again, with almost zero variation, and only went outside two or three times, then turned right back again.  I read for hours, enjoying my book and only putting it down when I absolutely HAD to make myself write or edit.  I got three episodes of the Rish Outcast done (three!) and started on a fourth, then went on to read another chapter.  I didn't get a lot of writing done, but I feel like I did fine.

Maybe, if you saw what I accomplished today, you'd only be mildly sickened.

And then it was time to go.  Because of the rain, it got dark earlier today, but by the time I cleared the canyon, the sun was back.  I could even go on my run again once I was home.

Words Today: 1208
Words In June: 19,872

*The old couple that live up the hill from me have a noisy generator they run that can often be heard, even before it gets dark, but it is strangely quiet right now.  Except for the relentless, echoing snaredrum of the clock, it sounds like what you hear when you get toilet paper wet and stuff it in your ears.  It's like an old jungle movie--"It's quiet . . . too quiet."

**Besides, I can't imagine woodchucks would congregate around the woodpile if a huge, angry badger was living there.

June Sweeps - Day 508

Before I left for the cabin today, my thirteen year old nephew told me, "Take pictures of what we caught in the traps."  On Saturday, before I took him fishing, he went out and re-set and re-baited the four metal traps we have around the cabin, and put one of them up on the deck where we'd been painting, sure to catch a varmint in it, even though there hasn't been any poop on there since we started sanding and varnishing there.

I came to the cabin again this afternoon, getting a bit sleepy on the drive, but only once actually closing my eyes, then jerking awake, which isn't like losing a job or getting kicked in the gonads, but is still one of my least-favorite things.  

Three of the four traps had been sprung, and two of them contained ground squirrels.  Unfortunately, the one up on the deck had a lively one in it, and a pile of dung and puddle of pee beneath it, which had stained the wood rather unpleasantly.  I filled up a bucket with water and dumped it on the deck, then swept it over the side, and it literally took the top layer of varnish off with it.  I'm not sure how something like that can happen, but it did.

Rodent 1

Rodent 2

Why didn't my brother tell my nephew not to put a trap on the deck?  And as long as we're talking, why didn't I remember that dead mouse last year (and the disgusting clean-up it entailed), and tell the boy to leave the traps on the ground where they belonged?

Well, it doesn't matter now.  The only thing is, what do I do with the squirrels?  Last week and the week before, I let the captured animals go up by the lake, but my brother told me not to do that anymore, saying that they'll just go burrow in someone else's yard and crap on someone else's deck.  "Best thing to do is shoot 'em," my brother said.  And as I typed those words, I couldn't help but glance up on the cupboard where, behind the paper towels, I know he's left a rifle.

I haven't shot an animal in decades.  The last time I did it, I felt bad enough about it that I never went hunting again (granted, this was the kind of hunting where you kill something, look at it, then find something else to kill, not the kind where you're seeking food or even a trophy, but hey, why split hares?).  That was an intentional pun there.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In June: 2493

One of the last books I checked out from the library was "David Letterman: The Last King of Late Night" by Jason Zinoman.  It was a retrospective of Letterman's life and career, and included interviews with everyone from Letterman's ex-girlfriend to Steve Martin, from Letterman himself to NBC executives, childhood and college buddies, to Dave's mother.  Now, I am a huge Letterman fan, probably introduced to the show (in the early Eighties) by my uncle, so this book really spoke to me, especially the bits about Dave in college (getting fired from broadcasting jobs because of his irreverent attitude, deciding to move to L.A. to try to do television) and the early experiments with "Late Night."

If you're not a fan of the show (or the man) then I can't recommend the book, but it made me laugh and made me cry, and brought back memories I didn't know that I had, and made me feel nostalgic for who I was in those days watching Dave from 11:30 to 12:30 on weeknights (in the market where I grew up, Carson was on at 10:30, instead of 11:30, as he was in the majority of places).  

I finished the book with sadness, because the end of Dave's career was landmarked with less-pleasant stuff like his open-heart surgery, September 11th, his infidelity-with-staffers scandal and attempted blackmail about it, and finally being replaced in relevancy by the younger generation in the years before he retired.  The book was fairly long and quite comprehensive, but I could've done with another hundred pages.

Out of curiosity, I went to Amazon.com to see what else the writer had written (he wrote a similar book about Dave Chappelle, and an overview of the Horror/Slasher boom of the Seventies and Eighties . . . right up my alley), and then scrolled down to see what readers had had to say.  There were the usual reviews that basically sum up the book in the way that a librarian would, with absolutely no personal bias, and then there were, to my surprise, the five star reviews that embraced the book and the one star reviews that rejected it.  

I use the word surprising because the reviewers had gotten completely different impressions from the book: some said that Zinoman made Letterman out to be a broadcasting genius and some kind of cultural prophet, and some said that Zinoman had done a hatchet job on Letterman and clearly didn't like him so they kept shining light on his flaws, in an effort to discredit him.*

I don't think you can do both.  But maybe you can.**

Now, none of this has anything to do with me.  I've never been to New York and I'm not a celebrity (or a success in any way).  But I kept finding parallels in my own life, however tenuous, and now I'm here at the cabin, with plenty of time to blog, and I thought, "I've blogged over five hundred days in a row, written the same number of days, and it's all about to end . . . kind of like when Letterman announced he was retiring."  More specifically, when he announced it was time for him to retire.

Not a lot of people read this blog.  And I can't blame them.  Who am I, really?  And what interesting stuff have I got to share, day to day?  Nobody and not a lot, respectively.

But every person is somebody, with fascinating stories . . . because PEOPLE are interesting, both in the way that they are different from ourselves, and in the way that they're just like us.

I think I'm going to go for a walk now.  After all, I have 140 words, and that's pretty good.  More than I usually do at this point on a cabin trip.

Push-ups Today: 188
Push-ups In June: 2798

When we left here on Saturday, my sister and my mom had gathered together a crazy amount of trash to be disposed of, while the men (and me) varnished the railing (no, that's not a euphemism, though I do have a little experience with "varnishing the railing" myself).  The problem was, the sheer volume of garbage was more than any of us could carry home in our three vehicles, so it was all piled up underneath the deck, and left here (I didn't know this because I had taken the three boys fishing by this point).

So, I was instructed to take my dad's old truck up here instead of my trusty little Toyota, and pack up all the garbage into the truck's bed.  I have to admit that, after an hour or so of driving, my foot no longer wanted to press down on the truck's gas, and I missed Cruise Control more than I ever have in my life.

I went for a walk a couple of hours before sunset, planning to record an Outcast episode, mostly about being a failure and wondering when I should pack it all in.  I got out of the truck, and the wind was blowing so hard, I knew I wouldn't be able to record a thing.

But I wanted to go on my walk regardless, especially since it had gotten so cloudy I didn't think I'd be able to see the sunset tonight, and before I'd even walked a quarter of a mile, it started to rain.  I didn't know if it would be a hard rain or a soft one, but it was cold, so I ducked under some pine trees a little ways from the shore.  I had brought my recorder, so I figured, "Why not record that episode anyway, just from here, standing still instead of on a walk?"

And I started there recorder going . . . and the whole thing shut off.  I don't know what was wrong with the battery, but it did it to me a second time.  Because I had brought my dad's truck, I didn't have any emergency batteries I could use (in my car, the Double-A batteries are in the little slot in the rear driver's side door where you can put a soda can, if you're ever in need of some), so I did the only thing I could think of to do: I recorded the episode using the Voice Memo function of my phone.

The sound quality will be pretty poor, but hey, have you ever listened to the Rish Outcast?  It falls below the quality of the podcast those on the International Space Station record every month.  However, it is better than Corey Doctorow's podcast quality**, so there's that.

Every single day I type "sit-ups today" and "words today" and it's gotten really old.  If I were smart, I'd just copy and paste those six lines in a template for every post.  Of course, I'd have to know how to do that.

Words Today: 564
Words In June: 18,664

*One review complained that the book went on and on about how what an angry and bitter person Letterman is (and except for NBC not giving him "The Tonight Show," I never saw that), and it reminded me of a book I always see at the thrift store, called "The Roots of Obama's Rage."  And I never really understand that.  Obama was the most laid-back, easy-going president of my lifetime.  I mean, he made Jimmy Carter looked like a fudgin' Dragonball-Z character.

**I keep writing these "Lara and the Witch" stories, and constantly vacillate between depicting Lara Demming as a flawed, average girl (with slightly below-average intelligence) and seeing her as a glorious, beautiful, thoroughly decent person who shines brightly in the darkness around her.  And I'm no expert, but I think maybe you can be both . . . just like, for the last twenty years, I have been both skinny and fat.

***From fifteen years ago, mind you.  Man, I got old real quick.

Rish Outcast 200: Dying Is Easy

Rish and special guest Big Anklevich present Rish's story "Dying Is Easy."  

This really should've been split across two episodes, but ah well.  Happy 200th show, kids!

Downloading the show is easy--just Right-Click HERE.

Supporting me on Patreon is easy too--just go HERE.

Logo by Gino "All Too Easy" Moretto.

Note: For some reason, the file took almost fifteen minutes to upload to Archive.org.  I'd like to think that it was the spirits of the noble dead doing their best to keep you from listening to it.  Darn spirits.

June Sweeps - Day 507

At the library again, and I haven't written a single word.  Maybe I won't today.  And you will finally be free.

Do you remember in CLASH OF THE TITANS, how Andromeda would get spirited away every night by Calibos, where he would . . . jeez, I dunno, repeatedly molest her, or maybe just admire her beauty, or perhaps just hang out and play Xbox with her?  And she begs him to release her?

Well, hey, that's kind of like you.

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In June: 2393

Anyhow, I went ahead and posted the newest Outcast episode, finished yesterday's blog post, and got, jeez, thirty-seven words written.  That should be enough, even though I know it's not.

Push-ups Today: 60
Push-ups In June: 2610

I set several goals each month that I enumerate during my Patreon address, then go through the next month to see how close I got.  One of my goals for June was to put out two Storage Unit Serenade episodes.  You remember those, don't you, the little songs I would sing, either at the storage unit near where I live, or up in the mountains somewhere?  It was a real pleasure (and a frustration too, but ah well) last year to try and record one every time I went up to the cabin, and you may be surprised to know that I still have over a dozen I recorded in 2020 that I've never put out.  

That was why I cited them as one of my goals for this month, and when I was at the cabin last week, I watched several of them, cringing at the ones where the setting sun made me look like the living dead, and appreciating the ones where the sunset so washed out my features that you could think my face had been digitally blurred out by the news to hide my identity.

I have a template I set up last year, that is so cookie-cutter, I could literally edit one of the videos in three minutes (and I have).  Of course, I've wasted more than an hour on some because, and if there's one lesson I want you to have taken from me*, it's "Everything always takes longer than you think it will."  I say it all the time.  It's my "Na-noo, na-noo" or "Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis" or "Kiss my grits," or "Hail Satan."

Words Today: 1329
Words In June: 18,100

*Oh wait.  The most important lesson I've learned in these years is "Always read the story out loud."  I've said that even more times than Richie Cunningham said "Sit on it."

June Sweeps - Day 506

Well, I managed pretty well yesterday, and the day I said I'd get five hundred words, so let's do it again.

Today was a really long day as far as work goes.  I'm just sitting down at the library now, at 7:14pm, and still have to drop by FedEx before my day is done (anything you drop off after five pm doesn't go out until the next day, so I might as well wait until after the library's closed).  But I can feel good about today, that I accomplished quite a bit, even if it took way longer than it should have (story of me life, mate).

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In June: 2282

I was complaining to my mom about having exercised every single day for a year (she was much more impressed with that than the writing every day thing, but I understand--you ever hear that old joke about the starlet and the writer?), and she presented me with a big cannister of this protein mix for people who do physical things that's supposed to build up muscle, or something.  It tastes like alfalfa, and I'm not a fan.*

But hey, I got this stuff, and I'm gonna make use of it.

Now I get to be like those healthy people who drink stuff that looks like it accumulated around leaky underground pipes.

Push-ups Today: 187
Push-ups In June: 2550

I had to go to the post office today, with about a zillion packages to drop off (more than ever before--it took three trips from the car!), and as I was leaving, I saw a little sticker someone had stuck on the door.

**

Now, I've no illusions that the sticker had been placed there for me--it seems like a Christina Aguilera-type message for her female fans with body-shame issues--but I thought it was pretty nice.  I love stuff like that.  I think about that "You Are Enough" message I saw in the library last year, and how much it spoke to me, and I do often wish that I could make others feel something like that.

Which is why I used to keep little cardboard cutouts of the Hydra symbol in my car, to stick on people's windshields if I liked their window decals, or bumper stickers, or license plate holders, or their bottoms (I gave the last one away, oh, probably in May).  I've told the tale before of how, when I was in college, I had a little metal TIE Fighter hanging from my rear-view mirror, and one afternoon I came out to my car and someone had put a note on my windshield that said "May the Force be with you," and how that made my day.  So this is like that.

Except I don't know what someone's reaction to the Hydra symbol would be, in all honesty.

Confusion?  Fear?

Words Today: 722
Words In June: 16,771

*More of a Buckwheat guy myself.

**I've also no illusions that this is a good photograph, but I like that I inadvertently captured myself and my car in it.  Hey, we take these minor victories where we can find them.

June Sweeps - Day 505

My nephew wanted to come along in the morning when I went to stores, hoping he'd find Pokemon and sports cards.  He found neither.  This sort of thing might be the reason:

I don't tend to get a lot of words written on Sundays.  But I did drive over to the storage unit, looking for a figure I'd sold (I didn't find it-- I suppose I'll have to give the guy a refund), and stopped by the park for a few minutes, so I could lay out a blanket and at least try to write for a half hour or so.

I did alright, really, still working on the Lara and the Witch novel.  I don't usually have a self-insert character in these stories (and most of the principles tend to be female anyway).  But I thought I'd base the male opposite number Lara Demming meets in this one mostly on myself--who would I be if I suddenly could make things happen, both to the people I like and to those that I don't?--and that should be an interesting bit of self-analysis.  If I can focus and keep writing it until the end, that is.

Next time I go to the library, maybe I'll waste some valuable time trying to find an obnoxious title for it.

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In June: 2171

Tomorrow is probably my favorite day of June.  Because it's June 21st--the longest day of the year.  It's all downhill after that, baby.

Push-ups Today: 60
Push-ups In June: 2363

I wanted to briefly mention "Saturday Night Live" again in this post.  It's one of those truly seminal shows for me, probably rating slightly above "The Wonder Years" and slightly below "Late Night With David Letterman" in my list of shows that made the biggest impact on me in my life.  I've watched the show for five decades now (which is strange math, considering it's only forty-something years old, and I never watched it in the Seventies), and have a running list of greatest cast members ever constantly rearranging itself in my head.  But my absolute favorite thing on the show--better than any sketch, recurring character, or celebrity impression--is when Colin Jost and Michael Che write jokes for each other (that they've never seen) to read on the air. 

When Jost is forced to repeat heinous attacks on black people, Rosa Parks, Hip Hop, black people, Martin Luthor King, gentrification, Baby Jesus, Harriet Tubman, black people, and Woody Allen, it becomes some kind of meta commentary on white supremacy, while at the same time revels in mean-spirited racism, and adds to it embarrassment on Jost's part, and prank humor on Che's part.

They only do it once (or occasionally twice) a year, and it is the highpoint of the night, if not the season.  It makes me wish I had friends with whom I could . . . nah, it just makes me wish I had friends.

Words Today: 1268
Words In June: 16,049

June Sweeps - Day 504

So, this was the third Saturday in a row that I was heading up to the cabin to do improvements.  The first time, I went up with my mom, the second time, I went up with my brother, and this time, I went up with my nephew.  We wanted to go to a big community yard sale first, and since it started at seven am, I knew we'd be fine to hit it, then drive together, and still have a full day of work ahead of us.

My nephew is thirteen, and he's extraordinarily selfish, making me wake him up three times before he finally got up, and then insisting that he was hungry and that if I didn't stop somewhere and feed him, he would become "hangry."  Now, I don't know what brilliant millennial marketing genius came up with the term "hangry," surely for use in advertisements, especially those during sports, but he (there is no way it was a woman...no way) deserves to get his junk shut in a filing cabinet.

We stopped by Del Taco (my favorite fast food place, and if he was going to force me to take him somewhere, it might as well be a restaurant I like), and it blew my mind that they're up and making tacos at eight in the morning.  My nephew told me to order an absolute butt-load of food, and I told him, "No, you order.  And your cap is five dollars."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"It means, you can't go over five dollars.  So do the math in your head to see what you can order without going over."

He was still able to get five items, which was more than I got, and he shoveled it down like he worked in an Amazon warehouse, and his fifteen minutes allotted for lunch also included the six minutes it took him to walk/run to the breakroom.

My nephew has an extraordinarily thick head of hair, always unruly, always longer than it's supposed to be, and I wonder how long that will last, since his father is as bald as the arch-enemy of Brandon Sanderson. 

It was pretty much perfect weather: in the upper eighties in town, the lower eighties in the country, and the high sixties at the cabin.  We drove with the windows down the whole way (although, in his opposite-of-defense, my nephew did throw a blanket over himself and go to sleep once the radio stations started to disappear), and it was enjoyable, even though I didn't get to finish listening to my audiobook (I'm on Disc 19 of 20), which is so overdue, I got a notice that they'll be charging me for a replacement next week.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In June: 2060

We stained and sealed the railing on the two decks, and the big pillars that hold the cabin up.  There were so many of us that we got it done by early afternoon.  My brother going up on the ladder again and taking his life in his hands.  I don't know if he sees it that way, but he's one of those people who's always got to be doing something, or he gets restless, or feels like he's wasting away.  There are far worse characteristics to have.

Right before we left, I went out on the deck, and looked up at the hummingbird nest, which is much bigger than it was on Thursday.  And a moment later, a hummingbird with a bright red chest zoomed by and hovered in front of me, looking at me with seeming curiosity.  My nephews ooohed and ahhed over that, because they'd never seen a hummingbird that close before.

And you know, I've never had one interact with me before like that.  It was strange, but pretty cool.

After we were done, while my brother put away his equipment, the kids demanded to be allowed to go fishing.  I hadn't brought my laptop, but I had brought a book (just started it on Thursday--it's the new Andy Weir book), so I volunteered to take them to the lake and watch them, then they could go home with their family once they were ready.

My nephews are old pros when it comes to fishing.  You know how I blog every single day, even if I have nothing interesting to say?  That's how they are with fishing (no exaggeration, I'd say they go fishing two or three times a week during the schoolyear, and five or more times a week in summer).  Still, the three year ol--no, he's four now, turned four on Wednesday--old wanted to play with me instead of watch his brothers fish, so we rolled around on the grass by the bank of one of the ponds, and he found a bottle of hardened power bait, which looks and feels like Play-Doh, and he tormented me with it, putting it in my ears and down my shirt.

When his parents arrived to take them home, the three year old insisted he was riding home with me*, despite me not having a car seat or room for him.  He threw a fit, which, as loud and obnoxious as it was, was for my benefit, so it didn't bother me nearly as much as if it had been over ice cream, or not being allowed to use someone's iPhone.

The thirteen year old and I drove home together, windows down, and it was a fine drive, with deer on the side of the road (instead of IN the road), and we got home in time for me to do my run (and take a shower) before the sun went down.

Push-ups Today: 186
Push-ups In June: 2303

I am SOOOO tired.  I only have fourteen words written today.

I got up too early and went to bed too late last night (and started to write too late tonight) to be very effective.

I repeat a lot of the same bullcrap in this blog, I am aware, and after half a thousand days in a row of blogging, yeah, you're gonna get tons of redundant material.  But this was yet another one of those days where I was so tired that writing was a fudgin' monumental effort, with me struggling for every single word, my head drooping, my mind wandering, and the crap I wrote being largely incoherent garbage such as "it looks like devon's going to do so, but a small, frizzy-haired girl in a Captain & Tenille t-shirt steps forward and says, "You sure?"" which shouldn't even count as writing . . . but I counted it anyway.

Words Today: 490
Words In June: 14,781

*Four year old, sorry.

June Sweeps - Day 503

Gonna do five hundred words, right now, no excuses.

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In June: 1960

I finally put the toy playset I bought last week up for sale on a local forum, because it was far too heavy to send through the mail.  I had picked it up last Tuesday, and now listed it, only eight days late.  Almost immediately, I received a text about it.  It said, "I am interested in your playset.  I sent a google voice number via text.  If you are real, show me that number."

There was something slightly hostile about it, asking me if I was real, and it made me think I had made a mistake in my listing*, even though I hadn't.  The text seemed really strange, and it was sent at 1:14am (which is no problem for the filthy likes of me, but for literally anyone else would be considered an inappropriate time to send a text).  My Spider Sense tingled, and I replied the only way I could think of: "Is anyone real?"

I didn't get a reply, and when I looked at my auction, I saw a warning that said, "If you receive a message with a code or asking for a code this is a scam and should be ignored."  But I can never ignore it now . . . at least they don't know if I'm real or not.

Push-ups Today: 50
Push-ups In June: 2117

I wrote the introductory scene with the two new supporting characters in the story, naming them Otto and Barbarlinda Contreras.  I'd never known anybody called Barbaralinda, but it fit the woman in my head, but then remembered that their last name was probably supposed to be McAllister, so I changed it.  But McAllister is the family on HOME ALONE, so I don't know if that's alright or not.  Is it too well-known because of the Culkin film, like if I named a couple the Buellers or the Brodys or the Griswolds or the Corleones?

I texted Big to ask his opinion on the names (actually, I asked him to just suggest names), but the text didn't go through.  I could've written another hundred words in the twenty-six times I tried to send the text.  So I went ahead and named the couple myself, wrote the scene, then tried the text again, and it went right through.  Weird.

Words Today: 1062
Words In June: 14,291

*Sometimes I will see listings with deliberately-misleading photos or descriptions or prices.  And there's a big difference between that and somebody saying "Amasing Spidermen figure" or "Faberge Egg: 0100 dollars."  I did check to see if it was the correct price and the correct description and the correct photos, and went ahead and added a couple more pictures and details.  I got no further texts from the guy . . . or from anybody else.  Nobody wants my Castle Grayskull playset.

June Sweeps - Day 502

So, I've made it a tradition to take a picture of the baby robin in the nest every time I visit the cabin.  Here's this week's:

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In June: 1849

Didn't do any blogging today.  It was a longish day, and then it was over.  I woke up early, and had I stayed up and just gotten to work writing and editing, I could've had a monumentally successful day at the cabin.  As it stands, it was very nice, very relaxing and enjoyable, and I finished editing another Outcast episode, watched a DVD I'd checked out, finished reading one of the two books I checked out from the library (I laughed and cried), and wrote a bit on the next Lara Demming story, plus, I planned out a new subplot for it, which should tip it from short story into novella status.  I really love writing these stories, and if I ever get off my duff and put them out there, I hope you love reading them.

Push-ups Today: 185
Push-ups In June: 2067

At the end of the day, when the sun was getting low in the sky, I had packed up my car, reset the traps, cleaned up after myself, and went around the back to pick up the chair that I always put out there (it was given to my dad as a Father's Day gift in either 2015 or '16, and who knows if he ever used it--but I do, every time I visit), but hadn't used this trip.  I grabbed my library book and read a chapter.  

Okay, it ended up being a couple of chapters--an hour or so, as the sun sunk lower and the breeze blew cooly, and I kept getting buzzed by a hummingbird, one that seemed braver than we usually deal with.  It flew over me and and again, and it often had something in its mouth--pollen or a twig--and finally, I looked up . . . and it was building a nest directly above me, below the solar panel my brother cleaned off just on Saturday.

It's hard to see, because hummingbirds--and their nests, apparently--are so tiny, but it was fun to watch it zoom back and forth around me for the duration of my reading break.

Then, it was time to go, and I knew I'd be battling the sunset unless I got out of there fast.  Even though I was just going for a single day, so I could've left some of my things where they were, I knew my brother-in-law was going up a day early, and maybe my mom too, so I had to wipe everything down and put things back the way I'd found them.  I guess that's good, right?

I found this image when I was searching for pictures of Basil Fawlty the other day.  Now, I don't know if it's true or just smug Pinterest bullshit, but I do feel truly appreciative of this cabin and my weekly visits here (semi-weekly, the last three weeks).  My sister was telling me the other day that, due to the rather large property taxes and fees, it is likely we won't be able to afford to keep it once my mother dies.  

That gave me pause, firstly because I don't enjoy speculating about my mom's death, but secondly because I don't understand how something my father owned and built (and presumably paid off completely before he died) could become untenable once he was gone.  But she may have been referring to the idea that the ownership will end up being split four ways without my mom in the picture, and one of those quarters (my other sister) will go to waste, since she says she will never set foot in it again, much less help us with the upkeep or yearly improvements.

Hopefully, that's not going to be an issue for many, many years, but you never know.

Remember that photo I took the other day of the gross bloody splotch on my windshield as I was driving?  Well, while I was editing audio this afternoon, a bird flew into the window right next to me, and I watched it fly off.  But right before shutting down the laptop to head for home, I went over to close that window, and discovered a little bloody splotch there too, just from the speed at which the bird flew against it.  I've no doubt that much grosser, much larger splotch last week must've been from a bird too.

Words Today: 1134
Words In June: 13,229

*Something I truly despise is when there's a local ad, or Facebook marketplace thing, etc., that has a low price, or even free listing, but when you click on it, it turns out to be priced something much higher.  Seems like a bait and switch, only even more dishonest, and I see it all the time (usually every week or so).