Rish Outcast 302: In Security 2

It's time for some more library security guard stories, including helping an old woman, the homeless guy role call, including the guy ranting about Taylor Swift and the dude who really loved the libary.

Note: I edited this one on my desktop, with no access to my usual sounds, and had to make do with what I had at hand.

If you'd like to download the episode, Right-Click HERE.

Come support me on Patreon HERE.

Logo by Gino "In-Secure-Kiwi" Moretto.

Swift As A Coursing River

The other day, I mentioned Taylor Swift on here (talking about a song of hers I listened to and liked), and decided to make a searchable keyword for her, since I knew I'd referred to her before.*  I then thought I would check to see what other posts (in the past) I had mentioned her in, so I could add the keyword to those posts.

An hour later, I was still at it.  You see, there were dozens of references to Ms. Swift over the years, starting in 2009, which according to my math, is over five years ago.  And instead of writing--or doing anything productive--I read through those posts to determine whether they merited a "Taylor Swift" tag or not.

Taylor Swift is important to me.  Enough to waste all that time, apparently.

Oh my lord, I just realized that I've now wasted even more time blogging about it.  I really, really didn't want to write, did I?

*WHY doesn't Lara Demming like Taylor Swift?  Is it something as basic as not liking the pitch of her voice (I recall my mom saying that about Taylor Dayne, back in the day.  And Big Anklevich had that with Tina Turner.  I feel that way about Billy Corgan, Alanis Morrisette [nails on a chalkboard, children], or the dude who sings with Rush)?  Does she dislike her because of all the attention she gets--one of those "I don't like anything everybody else likes" kind of stands?  Or is it that something about Swift reminds Lara of her dead sister Emma . . . and that makes her feel guilty because she was so jealous/disdainful of Emma, and now Emma's gone?  Hmmm.

St. Valentine (R.I.P.)

 I've always had a hard time with this day.  You understand.

***

I was boasting to Big the other day about how, in the Lara Demming stories, Lara continually expresses dislike for superstar Taylor Swift, which is so very far from my own opinion.  I am a fan, though I've never bought any of her albums, and know only a handful of her many, many songs.  

For example, I downloaded a track called "August" by Ms. Swift (purely at random), one I'd never heard before.  It tells about a cherished adolescent romantic experience one summer, and how fondly she remembers it . . . now that it's done.

It's familiar ground for a Taylor Swift song, and its refrain of "August slipped away like a bottle of wine, 'cause you were never mine," is like a lot of her best songs, and it occurred to me that the reason it resonates (with me) is because she's singing about a time that is over.  She lost her virginity (or the character the song is about, anyway) to some (presumably) dude, and for just a little while, all was right in the world.  

And then the world continued to rotate, and soon enough, it was all over, in the rear view, as I have grown fond of saying.

And that's what works about these Taylor Swift songs: there's a palpable heartbreak to a lot of them, some wistfulness, some anger, some regret, some embarrassment, maybe.  But the romance is in the rear view, and for me, that's so easy to relate to, even if it wasn't my personal experience.

There's so much negativity toward her right now--gotta be at an all-time high--so I figured, unlike Lara Demming*, I'd try to say something positive.  I especially like the bit where she says 

So much for summer love and saying "us"
'Cause you weren't mine to lose.

Fleeting, isn't it?  Just like life.

So, I listen to the song (over and over, as is my wont) instead of dwelling on this abhorrent day, and pretend that I share the bittersweet memory of that August day with the writer(s?) of this song.

Take care.

*I even toyed with writing a story where Holcomb surprises Lara on her fifteenth birthday with some happy news: that singer she hates so much has died in a tragic, one-in-a-million accident.  Lara is mortified, realizing that her complaints about her least-favorite singer have inspired her well-meaning guardian to murder the musician.  But when she opens her phone, she finds that Florida hip-hop artist Sailor Twift was killed in a bizarre petting zoo calamity.  She spends her birthday trying to decide whether to explain the witch's mistake, and when she finally does, Holcomb claims to have done nothing to anyone, and presents her more banal present to the girl: a candy cane that allows her to see in the dark.

The Revenge of the Quordle Quell

The horror continues.  So, I mentioned that Marshal Latham has forever ruined himself in my eyes with his diabolical writing contest, the Quordle Quell.  I may not have mentioned that poor Big Anklevich also entered the contest.  

Well, I was listening to Taylor Swift's new album the other day, and stumbled upon a song called "Karma."  I didn't think it was particularly good, but I remembered that one of the words Big was assigned was "karma," and sent him the song.  He replied immediately with, "Dude, I'm never gonna dig Taylor Swift.  Her teeth are weird to me," and I figured that would be the end of it.  

To my surprise, however, Big not only listened to the song, but it gave him an idea for what to write his story about.  He told me his thoughts, and it's a pretty cool idea, one with fine potential.  Good for him.

As for me, I have neither had any ideas, nor tried for a third time to come up with something.  But I went to Burger King yesterday, and when I got there, the sole employee apologized and said, "I'm super understaffed today, so it's gonna be a while."  I hadn't eaten all day and it was past two, so I told him I'd stick around and he could get to me when he was ready.  I watched him run over to the drive-thru, tell them the same thing, and then go to work on the outstanding orders on his screen.  There were seven of them, all of them blinking red (which I assume means they've passed the corporate-allotted amount of waiting time).  I surfed the internet while I waited, and then he took my order, and got it out as soon as he could.  I ate, and watched the guy run back and forth, telling customers, cars, and a Door Dash girl the situation.

As I finished and prepared to leave, I thought, "What would Marshal Latham have done in this situation, before he lost his soul?"  And so I went up to the counter, and told the guy I would help with whatever he needed, mopping the floors or taking out the trash or whatever.  He said, "Oh, I can't ask you to do that," and I said, "You're not asking; I'm volunteering."  He said, "I already called a guy who's on the way, but thanks anyway."  So I left.

But then I thought about when I worked in retail and how much they hammered away at us to get someone to take those damn surveys from the receipts (one of my managers used to ask us to do it, under assumed names, yet hilariously, I was fired and she was not), so I sat in the car and did the phone survey, answering the questions and giving him top marks.  It was a little thing, but that's what Marshal would've done.

But then, before I drove away, I thought of what Marshal has become recently, what with the Quordel Quell and all, and asked myself, "What would Marshal do now?"  So I shifted back into Park, got out of my car, and threw a big rock through one of the dining room windows.

Anyhow, if you're keeping track at home, the score is Big - 2, Taylor Swift - 1, Rish Outfield - 0.

October Sweeps - Day 611

I realize I talk about Taylor Swift a lot on this blog (or on my podcast, or in my stories--having thrown Swift references four or five times in my Lara & the Witch novel), but allow me to do so once more.  I got her latest (at least I assume it's her latest, she puts out an album every six months or so) record from the library the other day, hoping to listen to it when I finished the audiobook I've been listening to on my drives.  And I finally got tired of the endless discs of the audiobook (Fantasy novels have to be the most sprawling, overlong books of all the genres, since their readers have absolutely no problem with a Brandon Sanderson book that's twice the length it should be), and popped in the album.

And except for the two singles I heard on the radio, none of the songs were particularly good.  It gave me pause: why do I love Taylor Swift so much, really?  

But hey, there's a reason none of those other songs were singles.  Unless you're young, we've all bought albums before because we loved a song on the radio, only to find out it was the only great (or even good) song on the album.  I guess this is like that.  

Her stuff still speaks to me, but every once in a while there are stinkers, like that song where she blames the patriarchy for not being as successful as Leonardo DiCaprio.*  You can't only write perfect songs.  Heck, I write stories, and even I don't love them all.

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In October: 462

Push-ups Today: 200
Push-ups In October: 590

Words Today: 344
Words In October: 1960

*I did a quick check, and Taylor Swift is worth twice what DiCaprio is, so so much for that load of righteous indignation.

July Sweeps - Day 535

I've got nothing for you today, but that's okay, I'm going to the cabin again tomorrow, and I tend to blog a lot more when I'm outside the range of any internet.  Is that irony?  I never can tell.

I am getting closer to the end of this story.  I just wasted half a page writing about Devon--the boy with magic--having tried to cast a spell on Taylor Swift while watching her on an awards show.  I remember having a little throwaway line about Swift in my second Lara and the Witch book, "You're In Good Hands*," so I thought that it might be a fun throughline if Lara Demming really dislikes Taylor Swift.  No big deal, but I gotta write about something.

I was thinking about my own personal hatred for Jane Austen (I put in a reference to "Persuasion" in an earlier scene) and thought it might be fun if Lara really likes Austen, as most teenaged girls (who know how to read) do.  What I really ought to do, though, is do like some writers (Big Anklevich among them) do, and make a list of character traits for Lara Demming, little bits and details about her, like the colors she likes, the foods she likes, music she listens to, what she'd like to be when she grows up.  I've never done that with her, and now we're on our, what, eighth story with her in it (if you count the non-series stories like "Frewish Memorial" and the one where she turned the kid into a Pop Vinyl), and I don't really know anything about her other than what I make up on the spot.

Gosh, if I wanted to bore you, I could make a list of her characteristics right here.  Stuff like:

1.  Was always jealous of her hot, dumb older sister.
2.  Is afraid of white butterflies.
3.  Hates beets and anything beets-related.
4.  Excels at English, Art, History, Journalism.  Not so much Science, Math, Spanish, Music, Drama, Computers**, Gym.

Well, that killed five minutes.  I dunno, I gotta blog something.

I have to decide what's going to happen between Lara and Devon.  I've been teetering between letting him get away with his many crimes (because Lara decides that he's a good person, and a lot like her), or having him basically convince Lara that he's noble, and then reveal him to be a predator (and she's got no choice but to condemn him).  I know that the latter is the better decision as far as drama goes, but the jury is still out.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In July: 2139

So, you'd be surprised how many parts of the body it takes to do push-ups.  Or at least I was.  So, I banged up my left and right palm, my right knee, and my right elbow the other night.  Well, wouldn't you believe it, you use both palms, knees, and elbows to do push-ups.  Effed up, really.

Push-ups Today: 50 (all delightfully painful, thank you very much)
Push-ups In July: 2288

So, that girl Kayla that is an identical twin (that I used to bother to no end with twin questions) is back from maternity leave.  And she came back just long enough to put in her two week notice.  

This will be the last week I see her.  She didn't ask about the story (was it a book?) I wrote, inspired by her and our conversations, but has always been kind to me and very indulgent in answering the damn questions that I never run out of.

Oh, she seems to have lost all of her pregnancy weight, and I asked if a) her baby and her twin's baby look similar (they don't), and b) if she and her twin have recovered at the same rate (they have, to the point that they're identical again).

I really like when you meet someone, and they make a difference in your life (or just in your day), and then, even though they're gone, that difference remains.  I'd like to be able to be that person to someone, though it seems unlikely now.

Words Today: 1344
Words In July: 18,924

*Holcomb calls her "Sailor Swift," if I recall.

**Do they still teach Computers as a course in school?  I realize I'm so old, they offered Phrenology and Advanced Abacus Studies in my first year of college.

December Sweeps - Day 325

Yesterday was the shortest day of the year.  Or, to see the cup as half full, to vampires, it was the longest night of the year.*  There was a conjunction between Saturn and Jupiter that a lot of people were excited about (I saw some pictures that were dubiously awesome . . . kind of like when you see hot photos of Amy Adams and you go, "Nuh uh, she doesn't look that good."  Sort of the opposite of the time I met Hilary Swank and thought, "Damn cuz, she's super hot," but no one ever believed me), so I went outside to look.  

I couldn't see either planet, or any light to the Southwest that might have been them.  But I went on my run anyway, and stared up at Mars throughout, ruminating on the thought that I've seen Mars in the sky every other night this year, and that hadn't been a thing in any years past.  Here, at the end of the longest year in anyone's memory, I sometimes wonder what the me of last December 21st/22nd would think if I told him I went running, at night, in December, or I wrote, what, three hundred thousand words this year?  Or that I've seen the Capital One commercial with Taylor Swift in it over eighty times now and only now got the "Cardigan" joke in it.

I like to think that 2019 Me would be proud of 2020 Me, and say, "You can do HOW many push-ups in a row?" or "You've written HOW many short stories this year?" instead of the usual, "You've eaten HOW many pizzas all by yourself this year?" or "You've crapped yourself HOW many times?"

Just occurred to me that those two things might be related.

I'm at the library today again.  It's a little tradition with me, isn't it, to sit down, start up my laptop, and immediately blog before doing any of the responsible things.  For the first time, I've brought my water bottle with me up here, because none of the other people I've observed that brought food or drink have gotten a hard time, and I guess I'm a hypocrite.  But I come here often enough, I ought to have learned all the employees' names by now, and it's clear that they're not going to admonish anybody drinking, talking on their cellphone, not wearing their mask, or rubbing one out in the corner by Nonfiction.

When I first came in, I saw the deaf guy I occasionally run into here.  He was wearing a black hat instead of a red one, so I greeted him warmly.  He actually said something to me, which hadn't been the case before, but I couldn't understand any of it.  It occurs to me that he probably does a hell of a lot of lip-reading, and COVID has absolutely effed that up for him.  Poor dude.

I got a pretty darn good writing session in today.  I could actually have stayed another hour, but I decided to head back early so I could go on my run before it got too late (it's already pitch black out there, though, which is disheartening for only 5:40pm). 

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sittys In December: 2460

Push-ups Today: 111 (a special number)
Pushys In December: 2181

I went to publish my Christmas Rish Outcast just now, and I realized that, in skipping ahead to the Halloween episodes, I had had two Episode 185 and 186es.  It screwed everything up, and I spent a good waste of time re-saving the episodes, re-doing the cover images, and trying to get them re-uploaded.  I don't know if that will mean the links no longer work, but I've done what I can.  Just support me on Patreon, okay, then we wouldn't have to go through this.

Words Today: 1933
Words In December: 21,786

*Guess I could write a story how December 21st is a holiday among the undead.  But I won't.

P.S. You may ask yourself, "Rish, how have you seen that Taylor Swift Capital One commercial almost a hundred times?  Are you some kind of sick nutjob?"
To which, the answers are: That commercial plays every time I stream an episode of "30 Rock" and I'm near to the end of the series.  And yes.