Chadwick Boseman died today. Big Anklevich texted me and told me, and it didn't seem believable. It's the old folks that he and my cousin let me know have died, and Boseman was young. He was forty-three, and died of colon cancer, which he'd been battling for four years (CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR came out four years ago). I don't talk about the movie BLACK PANTHER much, because it was one of those gargantuan hit movies that everybody else was always talking about, like AVATAR or JURASSIC WORLD or I dunno, TITANIC. So I didn't feel I had much to say about it.
But I did end up seeing it a second time, after it had made so much cultural and financial impact, and was surprised by how good it truly was. And that's about it, all I have to say, except that it's been interesting to hear how much T'challa/Boseman inspired and touched people.
I took my nephew to the movies tonight, and it'll probably be the last time. He was so restless and bored and wiggly and he'd grab my arm and bite me several times during the film. When I got home, I found that Every Single One of my Black Panther figures had sold, all at the same time (but all to different people at least). It's crass, I suppose, that so many people scooped up the figures I've had listed for years now (Hasbro made a movie BP in 2019, some in 2018, and one in 2016), but I looked through my inventory, and I don't think I have as many of the figures left as sold all at once, since the same figures were available for sale in multiple places, and they all sold in all places tonight.
I gathered up all the BPs I'd accumulated over the years, and that's what the above picture represents. You'd think that eight would be enough (to fill our lives with love), but it's not. My nephew was telling me how much the Chadwick likeness figures are now selling for on eBay, but I don't feel like I missed out. I had these up for sale for months, some for years, and now they're all gone . . . and maybe the people who bought them will get joy out of them knowing they didn't get price-gauged.
Sit-ups Today: 113
Sit-ups In August: 5260
Oh, I forgot the point of this daily blogging...
Today was very nearly the day: the day when I didn't write.
It didn't really occur to me, because I was busy all day, and then, whoops, I effed up again with the water. I was about to do my nightly exercise, so I turned on the water in the sink, so I'd have some to splash my face with after my run . . . and then I started in on sit-ups, went ahead and did my run, never remembering I'd left the water running. And it was the hot water I left running too.
I didn't even discover it at first either. I was downstairs, checking to see if the washer was empty (it never is), and I thought, "Holy smoke, what is that smell?" I might even have said it aloud: What is that smell? And then I saw the water coming through the ceiling and the puddle on the floor (it's just a concrete floor in the basement, complete with cracks in it, and that actually helped once I ran upstairs, turned off the water, went through every towel trying to soak it up, then went back downstairs to see what I could do there.
That took a good long time, and I never even got my laundry done. Then I came up here and started to read the Chadwick Boseman tributes. And around 1:15, I realized I had not written today.
Should I even bother? I asked myself. I might even have said it aloud: Should I even bother? After all, I'm pretty sick of it. Sometimes I feel like it hasn't amounted to a toot in a tornado. And as down as I get on myself--hoo doggy, do I get down on myself--I think I deserve a break.
But I tried anyway. I managed about three hundred words between two and two-thirty, then quickly pounded out a few more, hoping to at least reach five hundred before I went to sleep. Now it's 3:06am, and I'm only at 483. I think I'll go check on the water damage, and see if I can't find the strength to do just a few more words.
Then I'll get that break in, you know?
Words Today: 700
Words In August: 27,935
No comments:
Post a Comment