#74: No flips AND no flops!

Actual updates

I should open this by letting you know that there have been no further hauntings.

We took down the baby gate a few days later, but even before it was down, there weren’t any incidents beyond that first night. I was expecting a lot of “thinking I can see him out of the corner of my eye,” because that happened with Nona as well, and that’s some pretty standard grief stuff for a pet who was usually just somewhere around, and that has happened - but I didn’t have any visitations in the past, not even by humans I’ve lost. I don’t know what I think about it. I saw some online poll awhile back that asked whether its respondents believed in ghosts, and one of the answers was something like “not really, but I’ve had some experiences that I can’t explain.” There’s this and there’s the little boy that my mother-in-law saw (ask me, I’ll tell you) and there’s me joking¹ about haunting my enemies once I die, and that’s it; despite writing 90% of a book about a world where ghosts are very real and dangerous, despite having a germ of a story idea about a world of the dead that’s very like the world of the living but the world of the living is very different than ours here, I don’t really believe in ghosts per se. Maybe I’m wrong! I’m wrong often! If I was looking to be convinced, this would go a long way. But since I’m not… well.

Anyway, we got a bunch of snow this month, finally. The last few years we’ve gotten such paltry little amounts (I WONDER WHY!!!) that it’s nice to get a real dump of snow, 22 inches according to the official counts from a neighborhood over to each side, not counting drifts. And then another inch the next morning. The day after the storm I spent, in total, five and a half hours shoveling. I am sore and tired and I have bruises on my leg from being the pivot on which the shovel catapulted snow onto the piles in our yard, but I love that we got it. One of the things I do truly love about this place is that we get real amounts of snow and everyone handles it well (streets are plowed, neighbors commiserate about shoveling and help out people who can’t shovel themselves out, everyone basically knows how to act). It’s bullshit when it gets really cold but you get no snow to show for it, which describes the last few winters.

But. But!! There is this truck parked out in front of our house. It’s one of those mega large pickup trucks, you know the ones that appear to be designed specifically to run over as many children as possible and never have anything in their pickup beds, so even under clear conditions having a big behemoth like that parked here makes it tough for us to get in and out of our driveway. But factor in the snow and it becomes a whole other level of aggravation. Consider the snowplow. They do their best to plow as much of the street as possible, which means going fairly close to the parked cars. But if one of the parked cars is massive and sticks way out, the plow has to stay farther out too, right. So this meant in effect that the area of the street at the end of our driveway that we had to shovel, that was unplowable and furthermore hemmed in by a 2-foot-plus plow wall of densely packed snow, was way bigger than it needed to be. It is only through pure sheer willpower that I saved myself from dumping the snow I was shoveling directly into the truck’s bed. Please clap for me and my begrudging morality.

Truck Addendum!

Its owner finally “shoveled” it out five days after the storm, and by “shoveled,” I mean they pushed some snow out of the way of the front of the truck (onto the sidewalk, naturally) and then just … drove out of there. The rest of the snow that was previously walling in the truck on the other three sides remains in place. So they’ve managed to ensure the space remains unusable even when they’re gone. I mean, everyone else just sets out a milk crate or a busted old kitchen chair or a purloined traffic cone² and no one parks in their spot, dude! Not that I would respect your space saver, because this spot isn’t “yours” in any sense, you didn’t even do the work of shoveling it out, and I don’t want you to park there anyway. And because you suck. (Not you, of course. You’re a delight and a joy, and all your friends are lucky to know you. Truck Guy is the one who sucks)

Okay, on to some actual good news for a change: my kid had his first gymnastics meet, and it went really well! He even came in third for his age group and level on the rings, which is particularly nice for him because a few weeks ago, his coach had said he was ready for the meet in all the different events except that rings was going to be kind of iffy. And then he got his best score in that one! I think he had a good time and he has said he’s maybe open to doing more competitions in the future, which is a great outcome, and it was also nice to see him getting some really normal, middle-of-the-pack scores alongside both the pre-team boys from his own gym (he is not in the pre-team, he’s technically in the rec level, so he practices once a week and they practice twice, but he’s doing the same stuff and fits right in among them) and alongside some guys from some other gyms around the general New England area.

And speaking of these other gyms, some of these kids were SERIOUS. Every group had its little uniforms; Hap’s gym had the level 3 guys, which is his level, wearing just matching t-shirts and black shorts, although the higher-level guys wore the tank top leotard thing with shorts or long pants depending on event. All the other guys from other gyms wore those, at all levels, and some of them had matching track jackets and giant backpacks and intense shouty coaches (for comparison, Hap’s coach is a high school senior and a member of the team himself, in level 10, and he’s not whatevering his way through it but he’s not out here shouting at the kids or making critical remarks from the sidelines either). Maybe we’ll see some of the names of those kids on an Olympic team in 10 years, but on the other hand, Hap and his teammates acquitted themselves well - his level and age group got second overall - and they got there without being put through some kind of baby boot camp.

There were two other important components to the meet. One was that there was one judge, the one for the parallel bars, who wore this smoked-plastic face shield the entire time - I thought it was maybe for covid safety reasons, until the event was over and he took it off and replaced it with a VR headset (and laid down on his back on a mat and proceeded to … watch videos or play a game or whatever he was doing in there). So I’m guessing he was concealing his facial expressions from the athletes he was judging. He also had some very dramatic little hand motions to indicate he was ready for each kid to get started, and all the other things he had to communicate, and while all the judges were wearing suits, his had a bunch of snazzy little lapel pins on it. He seems like a character, and I haven’t decided whether that’s a positive or a negative yet (although he was a tough scorer, even for the guys who threw in a lot of the optional extra elements on their routines).

The other thing that happened was that within minutes of sitting down, I realized that Hap’s water bottle had popped open and leaked all over the thing I was sitting on, and therefore also the seat of my pants (and some of Hap’s clothes in the bag that the water bottle was in, but at least that had a chance to dry before he had to put them back on). It almost got the person sitting one step down from me as well and she had to hurriedly shift her belongings so that she wouldn’t be soaked. I ran for paper towels and cleaned it up as fast as possible, but I still spent the first half of the meet with a wet butt. Tremendous behavior, all-around great success by me. Hap may have gotten the ribbon equivalent of a bronze in his event, but I got gold in the 100-meter public embarrassment.

What am I reading

Well, I’ve kind of got two books on the go right now, but one of them (Sunburn by Chloe Michelle Howarth) is for a work book club and I’ve only read like 28 pages of it so what do I really know already. Well, I do actually have some opinions, but I’m going to hold onto those for now in case a) things change, or b) I wind up talking about this book next month.

So, the other one: In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash, by Jean Shepherd. If that sounds familiar, it’s because it’s the book that A Christmas Story, the movie that’s shown round the clock on… whatever channel that is, leading up to Christmas. I didn’t know this movie existed until I visited Matt over Christmas one year when we were dating. It isn’t really a thing in Canada? Or at least, it wasn’t a thing among anyone I knew. But, you know, it’s the one with the leg lamp and the kid sticking his tongue to the metal pole and the Red Ryder BB gun.

So, it turns out, the movie comes from this book in the sense that one of the stories in here - it’s a lot of connected short stories from the main character’s memories - is the main source for the movie. But the leg lamp isn’t in that story, it’s in another; the bully beatdown is in another as well, the swear word bit is sort of adapted from a different one, and other bits and pieces haven’t come up yet but I imagine they’ll appear in further stories.

It kind of got on my nerves straight away - it’s very much from the era where men were people, boys were sort of proto-people, women were mothers, and girls were some other thing that doesn’t even bear considering. Not real people. It also managed to haul in some antique slurs for groups who don’t even get slurred anymore! But when it does this it’s just part of the atmosphere, if you understand me; no one’s trying to make any point here, no one’s trying to debase or insult any group. It’s just an evident sign of the society the author was marinated in.

One thing I really noticed is that these stories, written in the 60s about a childhood in the 30s, talk a lot about the mills and industry operating in the town, insofar as they were operating given the Depression, and the way the snow was blackened from the soot of the smokestacks, and the lake was filled with all sorts of undifferentiated glop, and basically the place was polluted nigh unto death - the movie cleans it up a great deal. But it’s weird to think about how a town like that was probably hollowed out in the next 20 years as those industries contracted or moved elsewhere altogether. There’s no inkling in the book of what the future holds, so this is an extra piece of the puzzle that the modern reader brings to it.

Some links

The obvious question, as a person under 60 years old, is, “were they before?” and the answer is apparently “yes,” or at least “yes if you had money, although you didn’t have to be screamingly wealthy.” But the last time I was in a department store, it was depressing: no one around, products grimly middle-aged, everything in a sort of condition of calcified untidiness, hateful lighting. It seems like they’ve all gone either that route - the “who cares anymore” route - or become extremely high-end, and neither is worth visiting. Can Department Stores Ever Be Fun Again?

In case you’ve been wondering!! Cannibalism Among Snakes is Far More Widespread Than Previously Thought

Cancer Alley in Louisiana, and its history; for hundreds of years, it’s been a great place for money to grow, but a terrible place for people (unless you’re the person who holds the money). The ways in which it destroys the residents have changed over time, but it’s never stopped. The Sins on the River Road Cannot Be Erased

Why are we so committed to the idea of time as a line? This explores the way that idea took hold in the popular consciousness, and also looks at how we considered time before the line became the default metaphor. The Shape of Time

This title oversells the mushroom trip, honestly; the real point here is that the ghost town in question? Is the town that the one in Cars, the movie, is based on. They’re revitalizing the Cars town from Cars. Which is also the plot of Cars. A Trip on Magic Mushrooms Inspired a Couple to Revitalize a Route 66 Ghost Town

I mean, yes, I imagine it does! We already knew eyes changed shape in microgravity - some astronauts who wear glasses on Earth report being able to see better when they’re up there (I can’t remember if that effect lasts when they come back down) - why wouldn’t brains? Still, it’s cool to have proof. Spaceflight Temporarily Changes the Position and Shape of Astronauts’ Brains, MRI Data Suggests

This sounds very niche, and the fact that there’s a website devoted to making detailed, good-looking, interactive maps with information about submarine cables is kind of niche, it’s true - but first of all, maps are cool, interactive maps are even cooler, and seeing changes on multiple maps over time is perhaps best of all. Also, undersea communications cables are a fascinating subject in general and boy do the changes over time tell a story. The Submarine Cable Boom as Told By a Decade of Telegeography Maps

I kind of shared this article just to be annoyed at it. First of all, who’s vying for reservations at hot restaurants? In, and I can’t stress this enough, this economy?? Second of all, the college student they mention lives in Chestnut Hill, so he’s got money anyway. But in general, the only part of this that makes sense to me is that it really IS nice to be a regular somewhere. Not for reservations reasons, but because in every regard it is nice to be part of a community. Knowing and recognizing and being friendly with the people you see often is community shit, even if it occurs in a commercial setting! The Best Way to Get a Restaurant Reservation? It’s an Old One

This guide was written with abortion-rights organizers in mind, but it can be applied to any kind of activist group. Very handy. A Tactical Guide to Finding Your People

You already know, I’m sure, about Centralia, the town with a fire under it, but apparently tourism there has dried up in the past few years - and nature has enthusiastically taken over. This is really great. The Rebirth of Pennsylvania’s Infamous Burning Town

Ok so the font experts profiled herein have crazy amounts of esoteric knowledge and I think they’re very cool BUT the forgeries that are given as examples of their work are from some really low-effort scammers. To the point where I feel like any reasonably computery person would have caught these dorks. Show me the really wild font cases! I can be trusted with stories of insane font cases! The Font Detectives

I take a bit of issue with describing something as “new” while simultaneously noting that it no longer exists, but never mind, these weird plants(?) look like giant fingers[no i know you’re going to say “fingers???” because you think they look like dicks but that is because you are a pervert with a dirty mind. look at it! it has a fingernail!] and it’s very disconcerting, which I mean complimentarily. Mysterious Giants May Be a Whole New Kind of Life That No Longer Exists

In Canada, home mail delivery by Canada Post is now a thing of the past, and you can pick up your bills or birthday cards instead from a neighborhood mailbox block. Unfortunately, they are ugly and uninspiring. This is a beautiful idea full of beautiful ideas to improve them. The pinecone one has my entire heart. I wish these were real. Deliver Us From Nowhere

If you guessed “because we’re bringing back the Gilded Age in many ways so why not this,” you’re not perfectly correct but you’re not super far off. They’ve stopped sending little kids up the chimneys to die, though. Why London’s Chimney Sweeps Are Enjoying a Resurgence

What’s the difference between a neighborhood that gets bulldozed to build a traffic artery, and one that almost does? Two Roads Through Two Chinatowns

Since learning about how the people on the other end of the spam calls are effectively prisoners in scam-factory compounds, it’s changed my view of these calls (not enough to pick up the phone when they call, obviously, but on a humanitarian level). Inside the Scam Complex’s Detailed Playbook

There’s science on how everyone thinks other people don’t like interacting with them! There’s science on the likelihood of having a “successful” interaction with another person! Now I know you’re going to read this article on how to feel more comfortable in social situation and think yes, hmm, very interesting, not me though - and there’s science on that, too!! How to Be Less Awkward

On dying and saying goodbye. I wish I could say this was like my experience with my own grandmother (the one I was in the same house with at the time, anyway), but unfortunately I was banished from the room three times, and one of those times was my last chance. There’s a story there, but not much of one. The Threshold

This is so interesting to me. First of all, I didn’t know they had branched out from “nuclear doom” to “doom, all sorts,” and second of all, I’m so glad someone is asking the important questions like what does a second or a minute mean. Who Sets the Doomsday Clock?

Obviously, losing limbs is a major change to all facets of life and how you approach any tasks, but this is a fascinating look into how those changes manifest specifically for someone whose job, and whose joy, is cooking. How Losing My Limbs Turned Me Into a Different Kind of Cook

Tunes I’ve been listening to lately

Well, I mean… I’m not.

You know I did an air guitar routine to (a one minute edit of) this song once? I mean, it was 10 years ago or more, but it happened! It wasn’t my worst work, either!³

Ribbon Skirt is a two-piece from Montreal (the name comes from one of the members’ Anishinaabe heritage, I imagine you’re familiar with ribbon skirts so I’m telling you this so that you know the band name comes from that, and isn’t some white person being a douchebag) and this song features the line “Save me white Jesus, save me good.”

This month’s top 5: Good things about Boston

You know. Just in case.

1. Fall, obviously.

2. Where else could my stupid ass have been in a band? In fact, maybe not here anymore either, but at the time that I did it, you really could just do it. And you’d get to play shows! Granted, 10 people would show up and 5 of them would be the partners of people in other bands on the bill, but it’s still playing a show.

3. When we get a real big pile of snow like this it’s Good, Actually

4. I’ve met 20 years worth of friends here! Some of them no longer live here, but here’s where I got them. And sure I’m the kind of a person who makes friends, so if I had lived somewhere else the last 20 years I’d have made (different) friends there, but… listen, self, stop arguing yourself out of this one. Friends! Good ones! Lifelong chosen family type friends! And they’re all remarkably smart and talented and charming and good-looking and have great fashion sense!!

5. I SAW A STORROWING LIVE AND IN PERSON ONCE

If you’re not from around here and/or don’t know what a Storrowing is, there’s this major thoroughfare along the river on the Boston side called Storrow Drive (the fact that it effectively blocks people off from accessing the river is hilariously[?] counter to the wishes of the guy it’s named after) and it has a lot of low underpasses along it, so trucks are forbidden. This does not stop people from trying to drive trucks along it, most commonly but not exclusively students on moving day, and then they invariably get stuck under one of those low bridges. That’s a Storrowing, or getting Storrowed. The funniest one (which I didn’t witness in person) was when a Trillium Brewery truck got stuck there… they have a beer named Storrowed. Anyway, we drove right up beside a stuck truck once and it made my entire life.

I’m a mess lately; very bad things are happening all over, including in my immediate neighborhood, but very good things are happening in response to it. Hideous crimes and nightmarish pronouncements, contrasted against the Winter Olympics (my Problematic Fave). I’m crying for various reasons, some good. Preparing to give things up while simultaneously preparing not to. Remembering to get my laundry out of the dryer. The bathroom pipe freezing three weekends in a row. Small and large joys and horrors. Being a lousy friend. I’ve got skiing on in the background while I work. What’s left to say?

1  not joking at all, dead serious

2  sidebar: growing up i called these “pylons.” that is NOT the case here and i would sound like an insane person if i said that

3  my worst work is any and all second round songs other than last year when i drew volcano girls by veruca salt, a song i have known by heart for nearly 30 years