Christmas in March, 2024

It’s a quiet Friday afternoon.  I took the afternoon off work, scheduled it out a few weeks out.  Knew that I would need the time to get this all sorted out today, and so I took it.  Might take the entire day off, next year.  Just have an entire day to get this all sorted out.  Boy howdy, it was tiring.  Yet I feel more accomplished right now than I do most days.  Most days, working my medical billing job, I don’t feel accomplished.  My workqueue gets smaller, but it’ll just get bigger again, so I don’t feel any sense of accomplishment.  But all the work I did today, it feels like an accomplishment.

For those who don’t know the story of Christmas in March, I’ll give the Cliff Notes version.  I moved down to Washington, ordered a table and chairs for me and mine’s apartment, and they were supposed to arrive in time for the holidays.  But this was back when COVID had everything delayed.  Just, everything.  So they didn’t arrive until March.  I had been planning to christen the table in by making holiday treats.  Decided that I would do it anyway, as a lark.  Christmas in March sounded funny.  Even decided to get holiday treat baggies and Christmas cards and everything.  My fiancee, wise woman that she is (wiser than me, that’s for sure), thought it would be fun if we decided to make this a yearly thing.  I agreed.  The story alone of all this was worth it.  Plus, no waiting in holiday lines!  And I got to give six groups of people something to look forward to in the springtime.

So I sit here, basking in my success now that they have all gone out and waiting for people to tell me how good they are.  This year was kind of a mess.  I have decided to have the red velvet shortbread cookies be a permanent fixture of Christmas in March.  Normally I hate repeat performances, but these things are so good!  Especially cream cheese frosting, which is what you have on red velvet anything.  If you do buttercream or whipped cream frosting with red velvet anything, we can’t be friends.  Cream cheese frosting is the only one that balances out with the flavors of the red velvet.  They are perfectly complimented by one-another.

Part of me thinks that this is how my mother felt, after she was done with holiday cookies and she got to hear about how much people loved them.  If the day comes when I can get a proper kitchen with a proper freezer to store things in, I want to expand this.  Have it grow to be a few more people who I think could use some Christmas in March cheer.  The dream, of having an actual home where I can make the most of things.  I know it will never happen, but it’s a nice thought.

Been feeling so miserable, lately.  Like my life is going nowhere and I’m a failure.  Got this spectacular painting that I’ve been wanting ever since I saw it in the Ken Burns documentary series about national parks.  It hangs in my place, right by my work area.  Love the artwork, yet also feel melancholy because this is probably the closest that I’ll ever get to Yellowstone National Park.  I will likely NEVER have vacation money.  I’ll be lucky at this rate if I have home rental money.

The reality of how shit my life situation is, as I start heading into the second half of it, is not lost on me.  Sally, my mother, who is the wisest person I’ve ever known, warned me it would be like this.  She knew that my sister and I would have harder lives than her and my old man had, and it did make her sad.  Prepared me as best she could, and now I feel so lost.  I’m headed into the best earning years of my life, and I’m making $23 an hour for a job that I’m criminally over-qualified for, because the jobs that I’m perfectly qualified for almost never even interviewed me.  The job market down here is brutal, but there is some hope on the horizon.  The working population is aging, and as more and more retire or move on, I’ll have options.  Things I keep in mind as I go through my days.  The only hope that I’ll have, of finding a better life where I could at least get to Yellowstone, and see if the sunrise is as beautiful as it is in this painting.

Hell, if I could be making $10 more per hour, most, if not all of my major financial worries currently would be abated.  $40 an hour is the absolute dream.  That would get me enough to be saving pretty well and at least feeling comfortable.  I can only dream about a world where I make $45 or 50 an hour.  Magical.  It won’t ever happen, but it’s a nice thought.

Listening to Dave Brubeck’s Christmas music, and it’s so satisfying.  Man, if I was back in Alaska, it would be cold in here and there would be snow outside.  But down here in Washington, green is just starting to come back.  Leaves are budding on trees.  It’s awesome.  I don’t miss the ice and snow and people’s inability to drive in it.  I miss my best friends, some of the fam, my old man, and being able to see them in person, but the truth is, I don’t miss any of the nonsense with winter.  Winter is pretty, but I want it to show up for only a few days, maybe a week or two, and then fuck off.  Thanks to climate change, it only shows up here for an afternoon now.

Maybe there is something better in the future for me.  Sally told me, before we left, that things would get harder before they got better, and boy if she wasn’t right.  Last words we spoke, and they were words of wisdom.  Even as her mind was failing from cancer, she gave me something to keep in mind.  Now we keep trying, hoping that the better days come.

An accomplished day, on a sunny Friday afternoon.  Not too bad.  Hopefully you all are well.

Until next time, a quote,

“Half the Louvre is floating in space.”
“You ever been there?”
“Pah!  With the chump change I got screamin’ into a mic?  Yeah, in my dreams…” – Johnny Silverhand, Cyberpunk 2077

Peace out,

Maverick

Taking the Tree Down, 2024

I’ve been busy today.  This is the longest that I’ve left my Christmas tree up before.  Normally I take it down in the first weekend in January.  I always wondered how Sally felt when she took the Christmas stuff down.  If it was a sad thing for her.  Everyone helps put up the tree when we were younger, but taking it down was something she was by herself to do, pretty much.  I was a kid, and I don’t feel good about it now.  Not making excuses, it’s just how it is.  And hey, now I’m getting to do that myself, so I feel it.  Though in today’s case, it’s because my fiancee was at work.  She did offer to help when I did take it down.  But just like when I put it up, I got a sudden burst of inspiration to do things, and I followed through.

Lots of my posts lately have been waxing nostalgic about life, and I guess this one will be no exception.  Taking down the Christmas tree and decorations is always a sad thing.  An acknowledgement that the holidays are over and it’s facing another year.  That’s always difficult.  Facing the rest of a dour winter, the dark and cold and snowy.  Well, snowy for places that aren’t where I am now.  Here, it’s dark and cold and rainy.  The Pacific Northwest is something I’ve been working to adapt to.  In the fall, spring, and summer months, it’s totally fine.  It’s during the winter months that it’s awkward.  Thankfully, winter only lasts for a few months, unlike back home where it’s there for seven months of the year.

I feel like I’ve hit this brick wall of life and I genuinely don’t know what to do next.  Like, I’m 35 years old.  This is the age where I begin the middle part of my life.  I work a job that I am criminally over-qualified for, making $23 an hour, with the reality being that I’m probably not going to see a raise until almost two years from now because I was hired at the tail end of last year, and they do raises for everyone at the early part of the year, but they don’t see it until the later part of the year.  So I don’t qualify this year, and won’t get one until next year.  Next September.  Until then, it’s just scraping by, while life finds new expenses for me. This is my life.

People keep asking – when are my fiancee and I getting married?  Honestly, legally, on paper, probably some time later this year.  With a ceremony?  Maybe never.  I may never have the scratch for a wedding.  We downgraded our ideas to a reception ceremony with pictures at a nice place, but even that might be out of our price range.  I live in a time where I’m so poor that I can’t even afford to get married.  That’s the world I live in now.  And it’s never getting any better.  D party doesn’t give a shit, and R party is pure evil.  There’s no hope.  Hope is an illusion.  I miss feeling hope.  That tomorrow is going to be a better day than today.  Even if we get married, a honeymoon isn’t happening.  We don’t have the scratch for that, either.

I don’t get why so many older people want life to suck for my generation.  Sally, my mother, didn’t.  She was actually bummed about the fact that life is going to be a LOT harder for my generation than it was for hers.  She acknowledged that she grew up in this amazing era that had so much more opportunity than my generation has.  Most parents I knew from good households wanted things to be better for their kids than they were for them.  I’ve lived through one major economic collapse, and am now living through a collapse that the political parties are pretending isn’t happening because it’s an election year and they have geriatrics to prop up.

There was that article in The Atlantic, that had avocado toast on a golden platter, and I want to choke the bitch who wrote that to death.  I’m entering into my peak earning years, making $23 an hour.  There’s no hope.  It’s an illusion.  In this dark room, without the lights from my Christmas tree, I have a lot of time to think about the reality of the world I live in now.  This cold, dead reality where everything is expensive and everyone is miserable.  An entire generation who is jaded and doesn’t give a shit anymore.  It’s not gonna get better, so why bother?  Why bother getting involved?  So we can be lied to by people like John Fetterman?  So we can see people we trusted turn on us?

God’s speed to Gen Z.  They’re stepping up and really fighting for what matters.  That’s good.  They don’t want to end up like us.  Maybe they can actually do what we failed to do, when it mattered most.  We were graduating high school or being early into college when the 2008 collapse happened, and we had this bubble burst when we worked hard to get the first black President elected on a wave of populism, only for him to stab all of us in the back by being a corpo rat President.

The tree is down, and now it’s dark in here, and I’m thinking about where I am in life at 35.  People who are happy are an enigma, to me.  It must be nice.  I hope they appreciate it.  Like, there are these little moments where they think to themselves – I’m glad that my life is going as well as it is.  I’m glad that I’m not in the situation that these millennials are at, facing down getting older with nothing going for them.  Who are praying for a collapse so the cost of a home can get into the tank, even though that won’t happen because corpos have bought up single-family homes to rent out, in order to avoid another collapse like 2008.  So yeah, hope is an illusion.

Part of me wonders if Sally had these moments in life, after she took down the tree and it was all dark and drab again.  Probably not.  We had a great life, when I was younger.  They worked hard, in a time when all you needed to get into the middle class was hard work.  I’ve been busting my ass for years, and I’m working a job that pays me $23 at 35.  That’s where I’m at.  And the best I can hope for in two years time is that it will be paying me $25 an hour.  Why does it have to be like this?

I’m tired of waking up wishing that all I could do is go back to bed.

Until next time, a quote,

“I really did wake up energized this morning.”
“I know.”
“I never go to bed that way.” – Jed Bartlet, The West Wing

Peace out,

Maverick

My Dream Home, Redux (Holidays Edition)

I’ve been having kind of a big feels sorta day.  Christmas was my mother’s favorite time of year.  It really was.  That rubbed off on me in a big way.  It’s now my favorite as well.  While I do my Christmas cookies in March (there’s a whole mythos to that, but I leave you to do a search of my site and find that on your own), I do still celebrate this time of year with the woman I love.  We are finishing putting up our Christmas tree today.  A little late, I know, but such is life.  I was feeling lazy yesterday and decided to get a jump start on the whole thing.  When my fiancee gets home from work, we will put on the ornaments.  It’s going to be fun.

Been thinking about my mother.  I have been collecting the rest of Attack on Titan, which is a series that she gave me the first season of for Christmas one year.  Now that the series is finished, I am getting the entirety of the rest on blu-ray and watching it.  DUBBED!  Let your shock wash over you, if you are one of those weird sub purists.  Watching this crazy action series in her honor?  In a way, I think about that.  But as I got to thinking about that, I got to thinking about the fact that she never got to experience what a holiday would be like with me and mine.  She never got to come down to Washington and have her and my old man spend a Christmas with us at a home we would rent.  Well, in a perfect world own, but more likely rent.

However, this got me to thinking – what if we did own it?  And what if it was my dream home?  If we had my dream home, what would it be like for the holidays?  What would having my parents down here in Washington be like if I had the home I always wanted.  Well, I did a post about what my dream home would look like (linked here), and now I can think this out.  The dream home has only one guest room, so if my sister wanted to join, she would have to either have a camper or something or crash at a hotel.  I think at 39 years old, sleeping on the floor just ain’t happening for her and hers.  Call me crazy.

Putting up the Christmas tree would be so fun.  Tiny girls and I would love it.  With so much space to work, we’d knock that out in an hour.  My apartment down here had a lot more space than the last one, so it wasn’t that tedious to put it up now.  But in the dream home, with our collaborative teamwork, and our two kitties making trouble, we would have everything ready in no time.  Putting up all the ornaments after we get it into position.  It would be such a blast.  We have so many ornaments now.  I got a thing of blue bulb ornaments, which compliments our healthy amount of ornaments we already have.  It’s gonna look awesome.

Sending pics of everything to Sally would make her all warm and fuzzy inside.  She would never stop fawning over our set-up.  Trust and believe, we would be living the dream life with this.  Every holiday would have her making a face-time call with the two of us that would go on forever.  She would ask what we are eating for dinner, and love the pics of whatever it is that we made that I send her.  It’s funny that a good percentage of the art that we have around the house is our respective nerd hobbies.  Sally would be a little confused about that, but happy all the same.  She was cool like that.  She didn’t understand my hobbies, but she was glad I had them and spent money on them all the same.  It’s super sweet.

I can guarantee that she would find the whole story of how Christmas in March started HILARIOUS.  It would be a story she would tell to every single person she knows.  Lots of laughs.  But my cookie creations each year would be something she would have to call about.  Got my plans already set for this year.  It’s gonna be effing amazing, trust me.  For those who are on the list of people who will get them.  Don’t get upset if that isn’t you.  My money only goes so far, so we have the list of families to six or seven.  But anyone who asks can get my recipes that I use.  The red velvet shortbread cookies were effing amazing.  Especially since I used cream cheese frosting, as one should with red velvet anything.  Buttercream frosting on red velvet creations is a sin against Groj.

To the holidays.  My old man would endlessly be looking over the place.  Especially if it was tricked out the way I want the dream home to be.  For real, go through the post above.  He would LOVE the conversation fire pit in the yard, along with tiny girl’s solarium.  I also know he would give me shit for not having grass in my yard, but I prefer moss.  Why have a lawn that you have to maintain, when I can have natural moss and grow native flowers?  Since I would have a beehive at the far-end of my property where I would have the flowers be thickest, this laws would be even better for them.  Maybe have some areas at the edge with native grasses too.  No mowing that, of course.

But yeah, when he wouldn’t be doing that, he’d be looking at our art books.  Of that I have no doubt.  It’s funny, seeing him in his glasses like an old dude looking over books is kind of adorable.  Like Old Man Logan in Logan.

Meanwhile, Sally and tiny girls would be making a ruckus!  Oh yes, this I know beyond any form of doubt.  Those two would be singing Christmas carols or showtunes or something in-between.  I know for a fact that it would never stop with them.  Especially since Sally knew how much I got annoyed when she would burst out into song.  Her and tiny girls have the same affliction – that any little piece of a song that they know being said will cause them to erupt into song.  Drives me nuts, but such is life.  Sally loved to pester, and tiny girls would get in on the fun very quickly.

Would be fun to play Animated Disney Trivial Pursuit with them…and then subsequently mop the floor with them as well.  I love me some old 2D animated Disney films, so my knowledge of that would be second to none.  Tiny girls and I being against one-another in that game could get ugly.

But in my amazing dream kitchen, what dinner would I make?  That’s hard.  Don’t wanna do the stereotypical turkey dinner, though I know my old man is a big fan of tradition in that regard.  Since I wouldn’t be able to attend the Christmas Eve celebrations at my aunt’s house, I might do deep fried prawn shrimp.  But, no.  Tiny girls isn’t a fan of crunchy food.  Maybe dairy free shrimp scampi with noodles?  Hm.  Oh!  I could do my sesame chicken recipe with my signature fried rice!  That would be a hit.  Chinese food for Christmas?  Why not?!  It’s delicious!

Dessert would be dairy-free pumpkin pie.  Tiny girls is allergic to dairy, not vegan.  No, we love chicken and seafood too much to give that up.  What to watch with dinner.  Hm.  I could do the 1994 version of Miracle on 34th St.  I love that movie.  Or I could do the greatest Thanksgiving comedy film ever made, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles.  That would also be awesome.  I know Sally would hate the greatest Christmas movie of all time, Die Hard.  Screw what Bruce Willis says, it’s a Christmas movie.  The greatest one ever made.  It might be improper to do my personal favorite, The Nightmare Before Christmas.  Whatever we ended up watching, it would be a good end to a perfect day.

The little things that I don’t get to experience, but in my head I have it all play out.  In some reality somewhere, that’s how it plays out.  At least, that’s how I like to see it.

Until next time, a quote,

“Let your heart take you wherever you wanna go.” – Bob Ross

Peace out,

Maverick

Tales of Sally: Christmas in March Edition

There is a bit of backstory to this that some of you may be familiar with, but most of you will not.  Keeping in a tradition that I mean to impart and discuss its relevance to my family, I like to make holiday treats.  Moving down to Washington, it is a tradition that I wanted to continue.  After getting settled in and building a job down here, I ordered a table and chairs for my apartment.  They were a package deal, and they are awesome!  I got to test out both before buying, and was instantly in love.  The chairs are cozy enough, and the table is homey as fuck.

However, this was in the time when COVID was causing excessive delays in shipping.  I kid you not.  There is a whole story I could tell about how our stuff was delayed a MONTH before getting here.  It’s an ugly story, that is almost funny, but not quite there yet.  My table was no exception to this problem.  It was supposed to arrive at the beginning of December.  Five guesses when it actually did.  Right smack dab in the middle of March.  Now, I still wanted to do noms, but I hadn’t been able to do them for Christmas.  But it’s March.  Well, I thought, why not still do Christmas noms?  So, I ordered a bunch of Christmas themed baggies and Christmas tags for them, along with some twist ties to keep them closed.  It was so absurd that I was amused.  My fiancee, being the peppy and fun gal she is (what she’s doing with a dour guy like me is a mystery I prefer to remain unsolved), advised that I make this a holiday tradition.  I decided – why not?  There’s a fun backstory to it, and I enjoyed being able to send out holiday noms without having to deal with the holiday rush.

This year’s selection is two things, both of which are absolutely spectacular.  Now, I want to preface this by saying that my budget is limited, the cost of living has gone up (as well as the rent when we renewed our lease), and I am in a bit of a rut.  As such, some of you who got to enjoy these last year will not be doing so this year.  I’m sorry, but choices had to be made, and you got cut.  However, that being said, let no one say that I”m a complete bastard.  Here is what I’m making.  The recipes will be linked in with them.  The first is Red Velvet Shortbread cookies.  Now, there is an icing part of that recipe, but when I saw that, my first thought was – fuck this.  You don’t make red velvet ANYTHING without cream cheese frosting.  It’s a rule, it’s wonderful, and if you don’t think so, well, you’re entitled to be wrong.  Horribly, horribly wrong.  The second is Disneyland’s Raspberry White Chocolate Chip Cookies.  I have done thorough product testing, because I do have a standard of excellence that I expect from others and myself.  My reaction to both was the same as Bart Simpson with the cocoa in The Simpsons Movie.  If you don’t get that reference, watch it.  It’s the funniest that The Simpsons has been in 20 years, because they got their best writers out of retirement.

Now, I know you all are wondering – when are you gonna tell Tales of Sally?  That’s the name of this post, and here is you just kissing your own ass.  Fair question!  Now is the part where we do just that.  I cannot begin to tell you all how much Sally loved Christmas.  I’m sure you all have some idea.  Every holiday season, she gets into it.  A lot of you, probably most of you, will remember her cookies, that were the same each year.  Something her and I don’t have in common.  I hate repeat performances, no matter how good they are.  Something that those of you who do get my noms are always annoyed by.  I can’t stand repetition, and I am ALWAYS looking to expand my horizons.

Sally, on the other hand, did like repetition.  She liked to make what she liked.  Everything she made, while she had the energy and drive to make it, was the things she loved most.  And she made a TON!  A mother-effing ton.  To give to a plethora of people.  An astronomical number.  While also bringing some to the Christmas Eve and Christmas Day family events.  It is insane how many cookies that she would have.  While having some leftover for herself and my sister and I to steal from.  I wasn’t the best kid.  Bite me.

Let me paint a picture for you, that is burned deep into my memory, something that is part of my heart and soul.  A memory that is dear to me.  I remember it from the second house I lived in.  The three story one that was down the road from my grandma’s.  We had a huge kitchen there and a big dining room.  My old man made that place almost entirely by himself, save for the wiring and plumbing.  When he was young, my old man’s ability to create was amazing.  Age has slowed him down, but he still does a lot of stuff.  The table by my throne chair was made by him and signed.  It has been my bedside and chairside table for over 20 years.  Really stop to think about that.  One of my bookshelves has similarly been in my family since he made it decades ago.

Now, the setting of the stage for you.  It’s winter outside.  There’s the large kitchen with the oven on one side, the fridge on another, the sink at the far end, and the mixer to the right of that.  Connecting all of this is counter space.  There is a ton of ingredients out, the mixer has been going for hours.  Now we have Sally at the table, rolling out the sugar cookie dough.  She makes so of that that it has to be done in multiple batches, with the the mixer full to bursting, every time.  The dough gets rolled out to a thickness that she has perfected since I was very young.  Now she uses her cookie cutouts.  There are stars, trees, and one of her signatures – Santas.  They are in huge piles, dozens stacked up one on top of the others.  She keeps the Santas altogether because she knows that process of making them is more involved than the other two.

While doing this, there is Christmas music on cassette tapes playing.  My parents used to have this radio/tape player that was pretty awesome.  My boombox that I play my CDs on is good, but it doesn’t have the same punch.  There is something about cassettes and how they play.  It’s analogue, and that just sounds better.  Listening to vinyl albums has the same effect.  It’s soothing.  Digital sometimes tries to get that same effect, but it just doesn’t capture it the way that I remember.  Still, when it’s done well, it’s good stuff.  Makes me think of the music in Bioshock and Bioshock 2.  They were able to perfect the analogue sound in digital format.

All the while that she is doing this, she would be listening to Christmas music.  There would then be the decorating of the sugar cookies.  Inevitably myself or my sister would be shanghaied into assisting with this endeavor.  She would make a fuckton of cream cheese frosting (my favorite kind, and went with those cookies so sublimely) and we would be decorating the trees and stars.  Sally stopped trusting me with the Santas when she realized that my ability to do such tedious work at the age I was then was impossible.  I liked a lot of frosting.  I still do.  Eating the remainder of my cream cheese frosting from today’s efforts.  Then there is the sprinkles.  This part was also fun.  I got one thing from how Sally handled sprinkles – to use the ones on the plate that we use to catch the loose ones and avoid wasting them, where possible.  I still do that to this day.  She rubbed off on me, a bit.

Of the cookies that Sally made, there are many.  I am going to list them off and give my thoughts about them.  I don’t remember the exact names of a couple, but for those of you who have partaken, my terminology will instantly bring them to mind.

• Sugar Cookies: a classic, and delicious.
• Parallelograms: delicious.  Cookies and jam is a match made in heaven.  I mean to make those when my cousin Amanda is finished with the cookbook of Sally’s and Grandma’s recipes.  I wish I had Sally’s old cookbook with her hand written recipes, but my old man treasures it, and I totally get that.  One day.
• Spritzes:  I think that is the title.  They were made with this little machine that would form each of them.  They would be in the shape of trees and wreaths.  I loved those.  I may make those as well, when I get the cookbook my cousin is making.
• Powdered sugar pecan balls: Never liked those very much.  Sorry if they’re your favorite
• English tea cookies with pecans: These things grew on me as I aged.  No joke, when I was little, I couldn’t STAND them!  But the older I got, they grew on me.  Now, they’re my favorite.  No joke, I love them.  I mean to make those too, once my cousin gets that collaboration together.
• Filled raisin cookies: my fiancee would LOVE these cookies, as raisins are her favorite snack food, but I would have to alter the recipe to make them dairy-allergy friendly.  Wouldn’t be a problem.  Dairy free butter can be used for baking.
• Peanut butter blossoms: delish!  Though a pain to unfreeze, since she would keep them outside in tupperware containers.  Alaskan winter is good for keeping your cookies cold.

Last but not least, there is the one that Sally is most known for.  Every single person who knows her, and is her friend on any level has partaken of these.  It is a recipe that is as difficult and time-consuming to make as it is delicious.  Something my fiancee will never be able to have because the amount of butter would make her sick to her stomach.  She is allergic to dairy.  No idea if you could make them with plant butter.  Might be worth trying.  I am, of course, talking about her caramels.  That’s cara-mels.  Not carmals.  You fucking philistines who all pronounce it wrong!  Ugh!  Drives me nuts!

Probably the most tedious thing she would make, and it was understood that my sister and I would be helping her wrap them, but trust and believe, before she got older and it got difficult to do, She loved to make the Christmas cookies, and loved even more to get people’s reactions.  I gave some caramels to a girl I was into in college, and her response was that they are better than sex.  I was a popular guy that year with that gal.  It didn’t stick, but such is life.

You all have no conceptual idea of how much work Sally put into all the noms she made, but she loved every second of it.  Every single minute.  There was never a point where she was not happy watching people’s reactions to her treats.  It was always a happy one.  Christmas was her favorite time of year, and that’s something I appreciate now more than ever.

Oh!  While we’re talking about Sally and Christmas, let me tell you all about an ornament that she loved.  It is this face with this long hanging thing coming down from it.  My sister and I had a rather unflattering name for it that actually stuck – The Sperm.  It looked like a sperm!  With a looping tail at the end.  When we were younger, my sister and I joked that once her and the old man were gone, we would be destroying The Sperm.  Now, I don’t think I’d have the heart to do it.  It would go on my fake tree.  A very awful ornament, that she loved with all her heart because of all the annoyance it would make for my sister and I.  Good memories.

My taste in Christmas music has grown as I have aged.  My favorite trumpet player is Chris Botti.  For Christmas one year, Sally got me a copy of his Christmas CD for my stocking, and I loved it.  Funny thing is, so did she.  My jazz music hobby was hit or miss with her.  She got us tickets to go to Chris Botti in concert in Alaska, but life is cruel and unusual in how it did her wrong before the event and she was unable to make it.  I ended up going by myself.  Tried to make a date with a girly-mate, but it didn’t happen.  Maybe for the best.  That girly-mate hates me now, with a bitter passion.  The concert was incredible.  Botti is such a great stage presence.  He has this group of people who are with him on stage, and he actually would go out of his way to give each member of the group a part that they would be able to perform during one of the numbers.  Sometimes, the dude would even go off-stage while the person was doing their thing, letting them have the stage so they could shine.  That’s awesome!

There was a problem during one of the numbers where the electrics weren’t working right.  Rather than be awkward on stage with the stage crew fixing things, he asked that the house lights be brought up and he started to interact with the audience.  It was so cool!  Dude asked who plays instruments in the audience, and then would ask some of them what they played.  There was one guy whose two boys raised their hands.  He asked what they played, and they both said drums.  During the last number, he actually told the two kids and their dad to come up on stage.  Told the dad to take out his phone because he’s going to want to record this.  He got the two boys on drums and got them to help with the last number.  That had to have made their decade.  It was an incredible night, and I did genuinely feel guilty Sally had to miss it, but you don’t know how sick she was.  We’re talking the kind that when you get up, your body laughs and goes “where the fuck do you think you’re going?  Sit your ass back down.”  It was bad.  When I told her about it, she was frustrated.  I told her that we would be able to see him next time he was up there.  Didn’t play out that way.  One of many things.

Leaving Alaska and the snow is something that I’ve never missed, but there is one thing that has been dearly missed in my life – heading out on the snow-gos and hitting the throttle on the lake.  Sally was, and I’m not exaggerating, a speed demon.  That woman would blaze off on ANY open space that we would go snowmachining on.  However, we would go out to Three Mile Lake and that’s where we could all cut loose.  I had said that I was a weird kid, and that’s true.  Well, in my head, I would always have this fantasy of me being in a military unit and going out on the snowmachine to scout out our territory.  When I could cut loose, it would always be fun, because I could let my imagination make all kinds of stories.  But no matter how fast any of us went, we couldn’t keep pace with Sally, who would blaze away like it was nobody’s business until she would damn near disappear on the horizon.  She would go back and forth on the lake until she would get to where my old man would park and wait for the rest of us and her to meet up, enjoying every second of being a speed demon on open terrain.

I think that’s all for now.  In my last post of these, I said that I don’t know how many more of them there will be, and I meant that.  The sad truth is that while there are a ton of stories that are there, I only have so many.  I hope you all have enjoyed this, and I wish you the best Christmas in March wishes.  I wish she had been able to live to see this tradition come to fruition.  It would have amused her as much as my fiancee.  Alas, you can’t always get what you want.

Until next time, a quote,

“But if you try some times, you might find, you get what you need.” – Lyrics, The Rolling Stones

Peace out,

Maverick

Tales of Sally, #3

My fiancee and I were talking tonight, and I was talking about one of my least favorite shows.  I, for the life of me, do not understand why people think that Friends was a good show.  For real, I don’t.  That show is, without exaggeration, one of the WORST shows that has ever been put to television.  It was never funny.  The only time I laughed when Sally would put that show on was when Monica had the turkey on her head and put the sunglasses on and Joey freaked out.  That was it.  The one time.  Everything else about that show is cringe.  Horrible, horrible cringe.  And so, I thought I would start out another post musing about my late mother with this little tidbit.

Sally LOVED Friends.  When it was one, she would watch the new episode every week.  And she got very frustrated if my sister and I would be acting up and it would disrupt her watching of that show.  She got very invested in the relationship between Ross and Rachel.  I know this because she would NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT!  I had to hear so much stuff about that show.  Mind you, only when it was airing.  Once the show was off the air, and it disappeared for a while, she completely moved on and forgot about it.  It was one of those things where she loved it, and then forgot about it a year or two after it was gone.  She tried to get into a show after that called Ed, but it didn’t run for very long.  Part of me wonders if she liked the show Scrubs.

Something to know about my family – we are redneck as fuck.  Or at least, they are.  I’m a pretentious pseudo-intellectual, so I tried to shy away from that side of my family.  But there are times when I had to be in awe, absolute awe, of how deep the redneck runs.  For example, Sally had this resplendent fur coat, of which she was very proud.  It cost a lot of money.  She was proud of it and liked to wear it whenever it was cold enough.

Let me paint a picture for you.  It’s snowing.  Large snowflakes falling when we lived in the house on the lake.  I cannot begin to describe how majestic snow looks out there.  I have fond memories of walking around my old man’s ski trail on the lake with Zoey and Riley (mommy dog and her big, dumb baby dog, RIP to both of them).  So, it is pouring down snow, a beautiful day to watch it, and me not having to go anywhere.  Well, this house had a lot of deck space where snow would have to be cleared off.

So now, as you imagine being indoors, with cocoa, looking out on the winter landscape, your eyes pan over and there you see…a middle aged woman in a bathrobe, her fur jacket, with a snow shovel in one hand, and a lit cigarette with a can of Diet Dr. Pepper in the other.  Never has the absolute lack of class been more defined than right there.  I WISH that phone cameras existed the way they do now back then.  I would have taken that picture and show you all.  Alas, you will have to use your imagination.  My family never stopped giving her shit for that.  It was a laugh.  Her friends were all told the story too, so Sally the Redneck became a laughing point of many people in her life.

In the last post, I told you about some of the more known trips about our time in Cabo San Lucas.  All her friends had heard the stories that I shared here.  Trust and believe, laughs were had.  In excess.  There were a lot of stories about my time there that I could tell.  Like these college girls who, because of my freakish height, thought I was a good deal older than I actually was.  As a 13 year old boy who was starting to notice girls, I tried to make the most of that.  Didn’t get as far as I would have liked, but it was worth the effort.  The first and last time that women that sexually attractive would ever be all over me.  My days in college were nowhere near as fun as those gals.  But I digress.

There were other stories about our time in Mexico that you might not be aware of.  First, did you know that on both sides of the road, when you leave Cabo, there is a mountain of trash that extends from exactly one side to another.  It was easily the most bizarre bumper one could ask for.  But to Sally stories, she had to haggle over the price of anything we bought, anytime she bought anything that wasn’t at a grocery store.  I kid you not, for as bad as she was at it, she would dicker with everyone she could.  There wasn’t a thing we bought that as souvenirs that she hadn’t haggled over the price.  It was mildly amusing.

I’m not a religious person.  Anyone who has read my site regularly for any prolonged period of time (or any of Sally’s old work chooms that she read my posts to while eating popcorn) know that I am an atheist.  Both my parents were very lax about religious expression with us, even though I have always been of the thought that my old man takes his beliefs very seriously.  However, on both his and her side of the family, there were some VERY religious people who were very adamant about it, to the point that talking to them about beliefs became a very ugly thing.  There is one person in-particular who, on the off chance I ever converse with them again now that I am in Washington, I would have words for.  They decided to make a big point about Sally’s beliefs towards the end of their life with a member of their church, and word seemed to get around.  So much so that a member of that church sent a very long and heart-felt letter to her imploring her to believe in God or go to Hell.

Sally wasn’t big about any religion, but she was a spiritual person.  We had had some conversations at length about it.  Part of me always wondered what she and my Grandma Mary had said about the matter.  I know that at some point, the two had talked about it.  I miss my Grandma.  She was one of my favorite people, and apparently I was one of hers as well.  Old, distant memories of Christmas Eve there, summer days when she was out on the porch in her wheelchair, whistling a tune.  If there were enough memories that were close, I would write about that.  Alas, she died when I was in fifth grade, and I can hardly remember so many things about her.  Memories of those holiday evenings, with a cousin who was a brother to me (who eventually stabbed me in the back and is now dead to me), and a girly-mate who still means the world to me, even though our lives have gone in very different directions.  Good times.

I don’t suppose I need to tell any of you that I was something of a weird kid.  Which has subsequently led to me being a weird man.  When I was younger, I loved nature videos.  They were one of my favorite things.  Thinking that catering to this was a good idea, Sally decided that she would get me a series of videos that were about hunting animals.  I loved them!  Thing was, these films were NOT the kind of videos that young children should watch.  There were very violent animal films, with some pretty gory deaths of prey.  Little kid me was all about it!  It wasn’t until much later that Sally realized how violent the film series she had bought me was.  Needless to say, she felt a little silly.

Another thing that Sally liked watching were the interviews that Barbara Walters would do.  Don’t ask me how it got started (because I have no idea), but she used to call her “Baba Wawa.”  I think it might have been because of how my sister or I had called her when we were toddlers.  No idea.  She also used to watch a lot of Dateline.  Though I remember that not continuing into my older years.  Especially after my head injury.  I think she got tired of the ugliness of humanity as much as I have in recent years.  Though she was much more empathic about it.  For me, I just see the ugliness of humanity and realize that it’s another day of them living down to my expectations, rather than up to them.  Funny how that works, right?  I think less and less of my species as time goes on, and they do nothing but live down to that line of reasoning.  Like these Groj-awful news stories about kids having to raise money for their janitor to retire at 85, because he can’t afford rent and has no choice but to work.  That’s not a sweet story!  That’s another story about our capitalism hellscape that this country has turned into!  Fuck!  Again, I digress.  If this reaches those who she read my posts to at work, then you will have heard my negative attitude before.

She never liked how negative I am.  Ever.  At no point did she like it, and got very upset when I was be in a mood about it.  It led to some of our uglier interactions.  In my 20s, her and I’s relationship hit this point where it was transitioning between parent and kid and two adults being friends.  I was tired of being treated like I was a stupid kid, and we had some of the ugliest fights I’ve ever had.  For a while there, I genuinely thought that we would form a rift that couldn’t be bridged.  But eventually, she realized that I was an adult and that the dynamic couldn’t be the way it was, growing up.

My head injury did a number on her.  I never stopped giving her shit for this, but it seems that a TON of people brought candy for me when I woke up from my coma.  Which she ate!  All of it!  Not a single piece of that candy ever made it to me.  I was informed that the amount was quite spectacular.  With how much pain I was in with the nerves in my feet dying, some candy would have been very, very appreciated.  Still, the time was so difficult for her.  For 17 years, she had quit smoking.  She picked it up again during then.

For something less dour, she once told me to buy her smokes as I was heading out there.  I asked why I should do that, and she said because she has paid for a bunch of things for me over the years, and as such it’s not an unreasonable thing to ask.  I decided to have some fun with this.  I know EXACTLY what kind of brand that she smoked.  Knew damn well.  However, since I am kind of an asshole, I decided to get menthols and bring them out.  She and my old man weren’t pleased.  Played dumb about the whole thing, saying that I had no idea what kind of Marlboros she smoked.  I know, I’m a jerk.  My old man ended up having to get her the right kind of smokes.  He was the unintended victim of my devious behavior.

Because Sally becomes friends with everyone, when we moved into her parents old place on the lake, she became friends with someone who lived across the lake from us.  Nice enough people, but the wife was a Jehovah’s Witness.  Here’s the thing about me – I talk to kids like they are little people.  I can’t do kid-talk or baby-talk.  Surprisingly enough, this means that kids have always enjoyed talking with me.  It also doesn’t hurt that if kids came to visit me in my dungeon in that house’s basement, and I was playing a video game that was SUPER not for kids, I would just keep on doing it.  With the Jehovah’s Witness gal and her offspring (the Jehovos, as my old man called them) is that when she would come over to see Sally, they would come down to my lair to see me.

One day, I was playing Silent Hill 2 while they were down there.  Anyone who played that game on the PS2 knows that it is scary in the extreme, and both literally and thematically DARK.  There is some dark and scary material covered in that game.  I tried to tell the kids that the game was scary and they wouldn’t like it, but did they listen to me?  No.  Did I say anything after that?  Also no.  They are old enough to make their own decisions, after all.  So if they want to be scared to death by my game, then that is their decision to make.  Seemed sensible to me, right?  There were two of them, an older brother and younger sister.  Can’t remember what either of their names were.  Now, older brother, I could tell, was scared to death of what he saw.  However, younger sister, she was into it!  She loved watching this game.  Older brother didn’t want to look weak to his sister, so he was trying his very best to put on a strong front while he was secretly near to wetting his pants.  That girl is gonna grow up to be a horror movie fan.

The other thing about the fact that I talk to kids like they are little people is the fact that these kids would ask me questions about things their mother told them, and I would give honest answers.  So she would say stupid shit about how evolution isn’t real or that the universe is 12,000 years old and I would set them straight.  And that, from what I imparted to Sally, is the reason they stopped hanging out with me.  Oh well. I think that she got an earful from the Jehovo mom and just didn’t tell me.  I’m good at telling when secrets are being kept.

Anyway, I think that’s enough for tonight.  Don’t think there will be too many more of these.  The memories are getting further and further away.  My old man sent me a bunch of videos she shot on her phone, and it was nice to hear her voice again.  I couldn’t remember too well what it was.  The same way I can’t remember what my grandma sounded like, or a friend who I thought was a best friend, but ended up throwing me away in 2012.  I can’t remember her voice at all.  Memories are a fun thing.  Perhaps me preserving all of this here is my way of keeping it all alive.  At least, that’s what I want to think.

Until next time, a quote,

“I prefer to keep my memories inside.” – Rikku, Final Fantasy X

Peace out,

Maverick

Thinking on Holiday Dinners

Well, it’s late on a Sunday afternoon, and I am feeling introspective.  As happens whenever I get that way, I go onto this site and start to write.  A thought came to me, and I figured I would elaborate on it with all of you.  Something about my family and holidays gone by and those yet to come.  It’s funny, when I started this site 13 years ago, I didn’t figure that my baby would have the reach it does.  After Sally (my mother) died, I learned from her former coworkers that one of her favorite things to do was to queue up something I wrote and read it to them, all the while laughing about things within.  With some of the shit I’ve written on here, I can’t imagine what posts she was sharing with people, but it still tickles me pink.

Which got me to thinking about holiday meals.  I had this vision in my head, years ago.  That one day I’d either own or, more likely (because my generation has no buying power), rent a home and have a kitchen that I could really go nuts in.  Thinking about how winter has already been poking in back home, I have Christmas music on the brain.  As such, I think to my big idea about doing Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner for the folks one year.  I would pull out all the stops.

Think to know about me – I love to cook.  Not a little, a lot.  It is a meditation for me.  My fiancee doesn’t get why I enjoy it so much.  After all, it takes a lot of work.  Since I have finite energy, and am always tired by the end of a big project, she sees it as using too much energy.  Not an untrue statement, for sure.  It’s hard work.  I’m out of shape, so it’s even harder.  But man, at the end of it, with all the creations I have made, it makes finally getting to partake that much better.  Just divine creation of some of the tastiest things I’ve ever had.  My skill in the kitchen is growing all the time.  Once I have access to a grill, that is the last major cooking skill that I have completely not been able to foster.  Though I would rather get one of those outdoor pizza ovens.  I wanna have that charred crust pizza.  Just a thought.

Sorry, I digress a lot.  You have no idea how bad it is.  I can start on a topic and then end up somewhere you have no idea how I got there.  Something that me and mine have in common.  Makes her and I’s discussions about stuff that much more engaging, for sure.  I think to how my tiny female (I am a titan, but she is short even for a gal.  Seeing us together, lots of people have thought she’s my kid, which is hilarious) and Sally would be singing Christmas music if we did that.  Hell, if we did Thanksgiving, they would still be singing it.  I would, of course, make a point that there is no snow, nor will there be.  At which point, because Sally was always an obstinate bug, she would then make a point about how she doesn’t care and is in the holiday spirit.

Last year, me and mine did Asian food for Christmas dinner.  I hate repeat performances (at least from year to year), so I mean to do something 100% different.  A neighbor moved out and left us their crock pot.  Might do crock pot roasted chicken.  That’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a hot minute.  Later this week, I am going to be making crock pot chicken dumpling soup.  It’s gonna be amazing.  A crock pot is a lazy weekday cook’s best friend.

For the year that I would be able to get family down south to where I am, I was going to go all out.  Thing to know about Sally – she is literally unable to stop herself from helping when she is invited to a dinner.  Every Christmas Eve, my aunt would tell her to sit down and relax, and what did she do?  She was cooking shrimp.  It was her favorite holiday, and she went all out.  I bet she would have died for my holiday cookies this last March.  Yeah, I did Christmas in March.  Cliff Notes, for the uninitiated, I ordered a table to arrive in December.  It didn’t arrive until March.  So, I made holiday cookies then.  It was delicious.  I made my famous gingersnaps.  They literally melt in your mouth.  Trust me, they are spectacular.  Since this tradition now has an amusing backstory, it is one that I mean to keep going for holidays to come.  Christmas in March is here to stay.  I know that would have made Sally laugh her ass off as she ate some of my cookies.

Her holiday cookies were nothing short of spectacular.  When I decided to try and carry on the tradition, I didn’t want to step on her toes or to just mimic her creations.  As such, I do my own thing.  Next March will be no exception.  I want to do a couple cookie varieties, and got some ideas.  Things I’ve never done before.  As I said, I hate repeat performances.  My goal was, one day, to have people asking me in advance what my holiday cookies will be.  For those of you wondering – will I get some?  Sad to tell you, the list is small.  But for anyone who asks, I will share the recipes when I do make them.  I have a book that I call my Baker’s Bible that has been my best friend as I expand my cooking repertoire.  The spine on it is starting to come apart.  That is how much I have used it.  Just did to make my famous bagels, that blew my fiancee away when I made toasted bagel roast beef sandwiches with pepperjack cheese and sriracha mayo.

I miss Sally.  The holiday season is when it will always be its worst.  But as I listen to Christmas music and wax nostalgic, thinking to the holiday dinners that I grew up with, and those that are yet to come, I think to myself that part of her is with me in these moments.  When I am making crock pot roast chicken, she will be with me.  When I end up making holiday cookies and put them in the adorable holiday baggies with the REALLY cute holiday tags that I bought on Amazon, she will be there, finding the whole thing absurd.  I worry about my old man.  I’ve been letting my mind wander sometimes, and sending the thoughts to people, him included.  I like to think that it helps.  I don’t know.  I can’t know how he feels.  But I keep at it.  Work towards a better end, right?

I have this ginormous fake Christmas tree that stands just one inch taller than me, and my fiancee and I cannot wait to put it up.  We are gonna be ordering garland and some blue bulb ornaments to hang on it.  I have a board collection of ornaments that people have gotten me over the years, but we needed some bulbs.  It is only right.  If you all ever want to send me something as a gift, Christmas ornaments go a long way.  I also can’t wait to put up my nutcracker collection.  Last year was awkward, but this year is going to be better.  It finally feels like a home in here.

Man, I keep posting stuff that is melancholy, and I know that it will be a melancholy thought for people who are going to read it who know Sally, but I genuinely do want to inspire some happy thoughts.  My mother was so unlike me.  I’m a depressing realist, where as she was an eternal optimist.  So, hopefully you all have some happy thoughts of your own.  At some point, I do mean to get the old recipe book of Sally’s and make some of her holiday favorites.  But only the ones that I like.  I’m picky like that.

Until next time, a quote,

“Tali is going to be so weirded out by the tree.  It will be adorable.” – Lucien Maverick

Peace out,

Maverick

Marking An Occasion, With Music

I meant to have this post come out to coincide with her birthday, but alas, that didn’t end up happening.  Part of that is because even now, with her no longer with us, I still get Sally and my sister’s birthdays confused.  They are literally one day apart.  My fiancee and a bestie of mine have their birthdays one day apart too.  Bittersweet irony.  I think, if I was ever to write an autobiography, that would be the title – Bittersweet Irony.  So much of my life has been just that.  It’s been a crazy journey to this now 33 years into living.  There are days when I talk to people who have no generational perspective to things I do, and I feel so damn old.

Anyway, I am writing this to mark the occasion of Sally’s birthday.  She would have been 63 years old this year.  I am sick as a dog as I write this post.  It’s 5 in the morning.  I went to bed at 2019 last night, woke up at 5, covered in sweat.  Think my fever broke last night.  I don’t get normal illnesses.  I get ones that kick my ass.  Part of me wonders what it’s like for people who only get head colds.  Bet it’s nice.  So, on this VERY early morning, with me sitting in my throne chair, I am listening to Christmas music.  I have a playlist on Apple Music for my favorites.

Something that may make you all laugh – Sally loved music.  One thing about her is that if you were to say something that was a lyric in a song she knew, she would instantly pick up the tune and start singing it.  There are moments when I would be driven absolutely bonkers because I would say something, knowing that I had just said song lyrics and what would happen next.  Sure, she would carry a tune in the worst way possible, just to annoy me and especially the sister.  The amount of times that Sally got an exasperated reaction from her was always amusing.  My sister’s buttons are easy to push, as I often would find out.  I was the little brother, it was my job in our younger years.

If any of you went back to my In Memory of Sally post, I had added onto it with memories that came to me, or stuff that I learned from Sally’s former coworkers.  I had no idea that reading my posts was such a thing that she did.  Apparently, it was an event, where she would gather her chums and be amused by what I wrote.  Not gonna lie, that puts a smile on my face.  In any case, I added onto the post one of Sally’s favorite hymns.  Her spiritual side was one that Giordano Bruno would be proud of.  In her eyes, people’s views of God was limited, as the universe is infinite and any deity must be as well.  As such, she took my atheism in stride.  She didn’t figure any actual god would care if people worship them.  In this infinite universe, why would they care if some beings on one little rock in one little corner of the cosmos tells them how great they are?

The reason I bring this up is that while her spiritual views didn’t line up with standard faiths, she still loved to sing, and there were hymns that she loved to sing.  I shared one that came to me, and I think I’ll share it again.

You all have no idea how long I looked for the right version of this.  Or rather, one that I really liked.  I am somewhat critical of things, as anyone who knows me well can attest.  Funny thing – my fiancee and I listen to music for diametrically opposed reasons.  She listens for lyrics and lyrics alone.  I listen for melody and melody alone.  If I hate the tune of something, regardless of what it says, I hate it.  Drives her nuts sometimes, when she is trying to get me into a song she loves, and I hate it.  We are so very different in so many ways.  There are times when I wonder about why we work, but hey, don’t question providence, right?

Part of me listening to Christmas music right now is me having a connection to Sally.  She LOVED Christmas.  It was her favorite holiday, bar none.  The SECOND that she saw snowflakes out where she lived, the Christmas music was on.  Part of me was exasperated, but now that I live in a place where a white Christmas doesn’t happen because it is all rain and no snow, I guess I feel a kind of kinship as I write about my favorite memories of Sally while listening to it.  Not to brag, but my Christmas playlist on Apple Music is bomb dot com.  I have such good taste.  You all have no idea.  Part of me is bummed I don’t get to share that with Sally, but such is life.

So, where is all this going?  Where does all of this get wrapped up in a little thoughtful bow that hopefully gives you all a smile?  I have no idea.  I guess it is just me thinking about the fact that Sally loved music, and while at the time I was cringing about parts of it, I am taking some of the lessons to heart.  My girlfriend shares something with her.  If you say something that ties into song lyrics, she will pick up the tune.  Drives me nuts sometimes still.  But I think to myself, if she had been here for a few more years, long enough for me and mine to have a house, getting to make Christmas dinner for the fam and having her and Lizzy singing would have been a sweet kind of driving me nuts.

Maybe in the next life, eh?

Until next time, a quote,

“Hair!  Long beautiful hair!  Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen!” – Sally
“Ugh!” – Me

Peace out,

Maverick

A Year Out From Tragedy, A Long Year It’s Been

I meant to have this out yesterday, in time for the one year anniversary, but the truth is that I’ve been exhausted.  Emotionally, mentally, and physically.  Life has been very, very hard for the last few months.  However, there is potentially light at the end of this tunnel that I’ve been in.  The heat wave has FINALLY let up and it feels like September.  It has FINALLY been under 70 degrees as the high.  You have no idea how good this feels.  Time was, wearing a hoodie in 48 degree weather would have been unthinkable.  But I guess I have finally acclimated to the climate of the rain capital of the world.  Which is another thing that I haven’t seen hide nor hair of since July. 

This summer has been hard for me.  I’ve been exhausted, as I said.  People’s utter inability to return phone calls has been so exasperating, among other things, but I would rather not go into that.  You don’t wanna hear about my frustrations.  It would be as annoying to read as it would be to write. 

A year ago as of the beginning of this month, on the first of September, I went to the airport at four in the morning with my girlfriend.  Sally, my mother, along with my old man, came to see me off.  Sally wanted to be there when I took this next step.  The bittersweet irony is that her health went off a cliff almost the day after I left.  It’s not egotism that I think she was holding together to see the two of us off.  I found out from my now fiancee that she had talked with Sally before we left.  She told her that she was so happy that she was with me, and that she was hoping that we would be happy down there.  Hearing that was both emotional, and heart-warming.

The whole story of getting down here will, someday, make for a funny, albeit insanely long story.  It has been insane, but part of me thinks that I needed it.  To have this adventure that would push me to new levels and help me to grow as a person.  At least once in your life, you need to do something that is insane and potentially stupid, just so you can have a few stories under your belt.

As I sit here, recollecting on this whole affair, with peaceful ambiance music playing in the background (link here), it does make me smile a little.  Man, I cannot imagine the amusement on Sally’s face if she heard half of what happened.  Or her anger when she would have heard about my fiancee’s being bitten by a dog in the first week.  How she would have laughed about Christmas in March, something that I mean to keep as a tradition.  See, we ordered a table and chairs for our place.  I found a REALLY sweet table, too.  I love this thing.  Anyway, we ordered it, and it was expected to arrive by December.  It didn’t.  I was going to use it to help make holiday cookies.  I decided after a while that I was still going to do so.  It was just going to be insanely late. 

The table arrived in March, but I still decided to keep it going.  So, I ordered Christmas holiday baggies and tags and twist ties, and then made the holiday cookies.  It was hilarious to me and mine to think about, but we sent them.  We also gave some to the Good Samaritan who lives in this complex who saved our ass when the dickhead driver who dropped off our stuff wouldn’t even bring it to the front door, and forced us to unload it from the truck.  I wanted to murder that man when he was making smart-ass comments.  He loved the cookies too.  I mean to make them again next March for him.  One good turn deserves another.  That man saved our ass.

In any case, hearing that whole to do, as she ate holiday cookies, I know that Sally would have been laughing her ass off.  I did a post about the whole affair.  She would have read that (as I found out that she would do with friends and coworkers) post and been laughing until she cried.  There’s no doubt in my mind how amused she would have been.  These memories make it easier as I think about what an absolute mess the last few months have been.  Thinking about her telling me that it’s understandable to be frustrated, but not to let it ruin what good memories I have down here, few as they are.

I also think she would have been enamored by all the pics I have taken of some of the adventures me and mine have gone on.  Our endless pics of our cat, Tali.  Easily the best thing that has come from this move.  She is the sweetest kitty.  But so skittish around people she doesn’t know.  Anytime a stranger appears here, she flees under the bed to hide.  It’s super cute.  That kitty is partially the glue that holds it all together, especially with things being as hard as they are lately.

With my health scare, I like to think that Sally would have been on me all the time.  Endless texts asking how I am.  There’s a reason for that.  After everything that’s happened to me, medical issues was a button issue for her.  Totally understandable.  The whole affair really brought my health into perspective and had me rethinking a lot of things.  It was a hard journey, and one that I think I am mostly recovered from, but there are still some issues.  Long-term COVID issues that I still have.  Easily winded and easily tired at night.  It’s something that I have been trying my best to take in stride.

After a year, it still isn’t any easier, and I wonder how long it will be until it is.  Can’t imagine what it’s like for the old man and my sister.  Sally’s cousin was headed up there, and I told her to go harass him.  Those two always got along.  Probably the only person I know who has been able to get him to casually swear.  It’s great stuff.  She’s a fun gal.  I mean to send her a copy of this post when it’s done.  For those who didn’t read my In Memory of Sally post (linked here), I added onto it, post script.  Just like with this one, I hope it helps more than it hurts.  If any of you have thoughts about the last year without my mother, feel free to comment.

Until next time, a quote,

“Be kind to your parents.  You never know when they’ll be gone for good.” – Baz Luhrmann, Everybody’s Free to Wear Sunscreen

Peace out,

Maverick

My New Passion For Artbooks

A couple days ago, I got a package in the mail.  It’s something that I’ve been waiting for for the last month.  I backed it on Kickstarter, and it was worth every penny.  It was an artbook.  But not just any artbook.  See, this one was started by a YouTuber named VaatiVidya, who has become known as something of an Internet bard talking about the From Software games.  Every so often, on his channel, he would do art contests with a specific theme.  Some of the artwork submitted to him is spectacular.  It’s some genuinely amazing stuff.  He decided to amalgamate all of those works into this one book, and make it available to those who backed it.

Having gotten to look through its pages, I have seen the works of some of the most amazing people who chose to participate.  And don’t you worry, each and every one of them are credited.  Beneath every title of a piece, there is the name of the one who made it.  I can’t imagine how proud those people are to see their names immortalized.  I would be.  With how great this artbook looks, it would be such a privilege to be able to have something to show for it.  A book that could end up in a museum or a library of art.  Or at least it would, if video games got the respect that they deserve by the art community, who still see them as not worthy of the title.

This isn’t the first artbook that I’ve gotten, but this is the one that truly made me appreciate the term “artbook” and what goes along with that when you think about it.  But as I said, it’s not the first.  The first was years ago, for Christmas.  It was a gift from my parents.  A book that was made detailing the history of the “A Song of Ice and Fire” books.  The artwork inside was spectacular!  I cannot credit the artists who did that enough.  It was amazing stuff.  I have my favorite renditions, like the one where the Children of the Forest and the First Men make the Pact on the Isle of Faces.  Seeing the children dressed in garb of leaves is really neat stuff.  When I pictured them, that was what I had in mind.

From there, I got another artbook.  This time it was one that was connected to a game that was coming out – Cyberpunk 2077.  The “World of Cyberpunk 2077” is a fantastic book.  It got me so pumped for that game.  The artwork was, as with all the others I have talked about, sublime.  Getting to know the various parts of Night City and the images it made in my mind really had me pumped about all the potential in that game.  Granted, the final product wasn’t that great, but the world is still fascinating.  I can still see amazing stories being set in that world, because it is so rich of lore and vibrant culture.  A shame every game has to be open world.  If they had made that game open level, I can only imagine some of the areas they could create.

From there, I got an artbook showing off the amazing designs they made for Gwent cards for the game based on the card game, along with the version of it in The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt.  This one is probably my second favorite.  The Scoia’Tael deck was my favorite, and the artwork for that deck is incredible.  This book was even more special, because for some of the card designs, we got to see little blurbs from the creators of them detailing what their inspiration was, not to mention the backstories of them or just neat factoids.  But don’t get me wrong, all the other decks are great stuff too.  As the Gwent game is still ongoing, it would be neat to see down the line if there is another of these released with even more cards they create.

Then there was the artbook for the Mass Effect trilogy.  This one wasn’t as surprising as I was expecting.  But it did open up my eyes to the reality that there is so much of that universe that we haven’t seen.  It would have been cool to go to Palaven, or to see what Kar’Shan was really like, outside of the batarians lies about it.  Most of what was in that book was storyboard art for the series.  Not bad, but it wasn’t anything exceptional.

Finally, before Soul Arts, I got an artbook based on the Halo franchise.  This one was more of a history book of the series, but the art inside was still fantastic.  I have something of a love-hate relationship with that series.  I love the stories that were told, but I hate the multi-player aspect, which is all people play those games for, these days.  I’m a man out of time.  It’s a shame that 343 Industries has butchered this franchise as bad as they have, because there is still a wealth of creativity to be found there.  Oh well.

My Amazon list has even more artbooks.  I want to get the artwork for Ghost of Tsushima and Horizon: Zero Dawn.  I remember when I was watching the documentary Jodorowsky’s Dune, detailing the greatest science-fiction film never made, they talked about a complete book created to send to studios to pitch the film with all their production artwork.  There are only a few in existence.  If ever I get a chance to get ahold of one of those, I will beat an old lady with a stick to get it.  To have HR Giger’s last artwork before he died, not to mention one of the greatest book cover artist of the time’s work for the spaceships in my home, it would be a dream beyond my comprehension. If ever there is artbook with a compendium of the works of Bob Ross, I would most assuredly be all over that as well.

Part of me thinks that the reason I started this collection is because I want to one day have a home.  It’s a small dream.  One that I can have a coffee table for, where I can put the artbooks for other people to see.  To give potential guests in a home that I have an insight into some of the things that I find beautiful.  It’s a little dream.  One that feels surprisingly adult to me.  I like this idea that I am maturing as a person.  It doesn’t feel like it.  With my mother gone, I have this feeling sometimes that I am going nowhere as a person.  So many things that now I have to face on my own without her guidance.  I can’t imagine how hard this is for my old man and my sister, but for me, I have always counted Sally as a kindred intellect, and now I have to think about where I am going from here.

She would have looked through these artbooks and thought they were very pretty, but didn’t get what they were connected to.  I’m a nerd, but she was not.  The most nerdy she got was with Tetris on the Gameboy and Tetrisphere on my N64.  But it would have been nice to show her all the same.  More of those little what-ifs in my life.

Until next time, a quote,

“So please, take it all in!  Read the lore I’ve comprised for each entry, appreciate the hours of work behind each piece, and seek out the artist’s portfolio’s at the end.  I hope SoulArts goes onto inspire you.” – Michael “VaatiVidya” Samuel

Peace out,

Maverick

My Grown-Up Christmas List, Part II

Things have been hectic, to say the least, these last few months.  It’s been over three months now since I moved down here, but in a lot of ways, it still feels like I’m getting settled in.  Waiting on my new table to arrive, and once that does, then I think I will FINALLY be able to feel like this place is complete.  That and the new bookshelf that can add some needed counter-space for all the knick-knacks that myself and my partner accumulated over time.  Got a couple boxes still not unpacked because of them.

My partner and I are now cat parents.  I joked with Sally once that she’d never get grandkids, but I would have fur-babies.  Well, I got my first.  It was a shelter cat, who we have named Tali, from the character in the Mass Effect games.  She’s a sweetie, but still growing.  Abandoned by her last owner at 6 months, she’s been growing to trust us, and now I am writing this with a kitty in my lap, annoyed that I am not giving her more attention.

I moved from a state that is drowning in snow, to a state where it still looks like the end of September back there with Christmas right around the corner.  Tons of rain, but not a flake of snow, and I am not complaining.  With how frigid it has been up there, the idea of having to live another dark winter having to plug in my car and with me wondering when the next thing on her would break in the middle of winter (my old car was a good girl, but she had reached the point where you ask yourself how much more money you will dump into her) has not been missed.  But tonight, I got a reminder of how far I’ve come, with an early Christmas gift from my old man that has filled me with all kinds of emotions, and made me feel the need to write something.

Among a Christmas card, my old man’s Christmas gift (it was money.  He isn’t good at shopping, which Sally was.  I don’t mind it.  Means I can get my partner and I something from “Santa.”  I know for a fact that would make Sally smile.  I figured out my parents were Santa from a VERY young age, and it never bothered me.  But I can keep the tradition going), a copy of some legal documents that were updated since he has been widowed, and a couple other things that made me smile and feel other emotions. 

The first was drawings and paperwork from when I was very, very small.  That was heart-warming.  It seems I am not just a weird adult.  I was a weird kid too.  A fact that seemed to make Sally smile more than once, but we’ll get into that.  Something to know about me – I taught myself to read.  I loved books, even as a small child.  I got read books, but I was so impatient to know what would happen next that I essentially taught myself to read so I wouldn’t have to wait.  So reading some of the nonsense I wrote as a kid was super cute.

The second thing was a journal that Sally had started for me when I was a toddler, to document her feelings about me growing up and for me to learn later on about what the family was like.  A lot of feels went through me when I was reading that.  A lot of confused emotions.  I don’t know if I have been processing all of what’s happened in a good way or a bad way.  When I got the call from my old man, I expected it to feel like the floor dropped out.  Instead, I felt a sense of solemn understanding of what he was saying, and I moved forward. 

Back to the journal, one of the things that became frustrating to Sally was the fact that she was unable to keep to a schedule or writing or at least writing regularly.  Over time, the writing got more and more sporadic, until it stopped completely.  I can empathize with her plight.  Growing up, I tried over and over to get into journal writing, but it just never stuck.  I couldn’t keep it going regularly either, though I kept trying.  Over and over, with various notebooks and actual journals, yet it never stuck.  I feel a kinship with her that I did not expect.

However, there was something that came into focus as I was reading that, and it is what inspired me to write this post.  One of the most heart-warming things to come out of all the sadness with Sally’s passing is when I found out from her former coworkers just how proud she was of this website that I have started.  This site has been my baby for over 10 years.  I will never have children, so this and all the posts within it is a record of who I am as a person.  The things I like, the things I think about, the issues that have been important to me, and my perceptions of the world.  Sally used to have her coworkers gather around and read from the site directly at work, or she would print it out and read it to them.  I can imagine her voice with some of my posts.  It makes me laugh and feel like crying at the same time. 

And reading this journal, from when I was 2-4 years old, I think to myself of why Sally was proud of what I am doing.  Because she was happy to see me doing what she was frustrated with herself for being unable to do.  I was keeping a kind of journal.  Not by name, but in a way.  It wasn’t my daily life, but instead the parts of my life that I believed important enough to talk about, from my posts about various issues, my reviews of things, and my personal posts.  All of it is an accumulation of myself, who I am, the life I am leading, and thoughts for others to take away from those who read it about how I see the world.  That’s what she wanted with her journal, and in a way, I do too.

This sudden kinship was a very heart-warming, and saddening at the same time.  Christmas was Sally’s favorite time of year.  She got so upset when my sister and I would fight, or when my old man would be disparaging of spending time with the extended family because that made her unhappy.  Never has the time of year been more in my mind than right now.

If you’re wondering why this post is “Part II”, it’s because there was another post of this name, written many years ago now.  See, the older I get, the more I realize there is not a lot of material possessions that I want.  The things I want become more abstract.  When I wrote my original post, it was in a period of my life when my depression was unbelievably high.  Winter in Alaska has always been hard on me.  Plus, I was at a stage in my life when I was coming fully into being an adult, and there were a lot of things that changed.

One of the things was my relationship with my parents.  See, as you get older, the reality is that how you relate to your family changes.  Your parents are less the people who instruct you and guide you, but more those who care about you and are with you on the journey.  You are less adult and child, but now mutual adults.  It makes your parents less a guide, and more a friend.  That transition was NOT seamless for Sally and I.  We both had to adjust, and I was at a point in my life when I was tired of being treated like a kid.  We had some ugly fights.  So when I wrote my original post, it got a very ugly reaction from Sally.

But years passed, we settled in to our new roles as a family, and became two close friends instead of close parent and kid.  The transition was pretty seamless with my old man.  Him and I were pretty chill, growing up.  I had a habit of treating him like a buddy I could shoot the shit with, so doing that as adults came naturally.  Still, I’m glad that Sally and I were able to get past it.

So, all these years later, my old man send me a care package with that journal, and thinking that he was sending something lame by having money as a gift because he’s no good at shopping, gave me probably the best Christmas gift I could ask for.  I still worry about the old timer, but he’s got family looking out for him, and so will I.  Gonna be putting my baking talents to work very soon to make him something delicious that is his favorite.

I guess you could call this a Christmas post, and it may end up being the post about my holiday, but now, with all the hectic nonsense of my move, I’ve never felt closer to those who are now 2,300 miles away than I do right now.

Until next time, a quote,

“You have so much Christmas shit, Sally.” – Me when going through the boxes of stuff she has (it used to be so much worse by the point I said that.  You have no idea how much Christmas stuff she got rid of when she was forced to do so)

Peace out,

Maverick