Month: July 2020

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personal

About Naya

Being a feminist

I’m pausing my usual nuthin to talk about a celebrity.

The last celebrity death I wrote about was George Michael. Today, it’s about Naya Rivera, who died earlier this month.

I’m writing because I assume that not everyone who reads this blog keeps up with television actresses – or 80s pop singers for that matter.

But Rivera deserves a mention for reasons you’ll soon understand.

All evidence seems to point to the fact that she and her son went swimming on an unmoored boat. Rivera probably realized that the boat was slipping away from her and made a choice – a mother’s choice.

She swam after that boat, carrying her son. She musta used all her strength to (a) get to the boat, and (b) get her wet, exhausted four-year old son onto it.

My kid’s four-years old. He’s heavy as it is; I can’t imagine how heavy he’d be wet and tired.

Yet, this lady got her son back onto the boat. It’s apparent that she used the last of her strength to get him to safety because, according to her son, he saw her disappear under the surface of the water.

Think about that.

She was close enough to him that he could see her die. There’s no way she wanted that but she had no strength left.

Alison and I used to watch Glee from time-to-time, but I don’t know anything about Miss Rivera except how she died. I gotta say, that’s enough. She died saving someone she loved more than herself.

That tells me everything I need to know about her. She died her child’s guard. There is no greater love than that.

I said it before, A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things, and crushes down, remorselessly, all that stands in its path.

Since we’re on the topic, I was asked once if I considered myself a feminist. I never thought about it, really.

I’m definitely not chivalrous because that’s just a bullshit way to say that (a) you’re gonna treat someone differently because they do or do not have a particular organ, and (b) that women are weak and need a man’s help. Fuck that.

Alison was the toughest person – man, woman, or child – I have ever met.

You would not believe the shit that Alison went through to stay with her son. And she did so with complete and utter stoicism.

I find Trump supporters particularly distasteful because they support such a weak, whiny, shadow of a man. Like, shut the fuck up you big whiny crybaby. Jesus Christ, don’t you ever get tired of whining?

Alison’s pinky was tougher than Captain Bone-Spurs entire corpulent gross body. And Alison’s mom and then my mom are the second and third toughest people – not women, people – I know. Mouse is up there too.

Women give birth. Women suffer unbelievably for their family and children. For a man to have anything but a profound respect for women, celebrity or otherwise, is to just admit that they are weak, fragile, bone-spur nothings.

If that means I’m a feminist, sure. If nuthin else, this blog is all about me being a fan of women, which I find ridiculous that I even need to point out.

But we’re living in a time when stupid is full-on run amok, so there you go.

Anywho, I wanted you to know that Rivera died, not as a celebrity, but as mother trying – and succeeding – to save her child.

That’s a life worth remembering. That lady was tough as shit, actress, celebrity, or whatever. Tough. As. Shit.

OK, back to the usual nonsense next week.

Podcast Version
Location: my slightly less-hot apartment
Mood: humbled
Music: She is the best thing that’s ever been mine (Spotify)
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personal

When it rains, it pours

Future reference

After my disastrous week last week, one would think that my week would improve.

But, dear reader, you know that my luck is always of the stripe you don’t want.

Case-in-point, I had a young lady here the other night.

Her: I like the heat, but this is ridiculous. (looking at thermometer) It’s 88 degrees in here!
Me: I think my AC may be broken.
Her: No kidding…

Turns out that BOTH my ACs – which I just got when Alison was sick to keep her comfortable – aren’t working. So, I spent today trying to schedule someone to come in and just happened to get someone in tomorrow.

But, in the middle of scheduling it, my internet goes out. Turns out my physical cable’s bad, so I stop scheduling the AC repair so I can schedule the cable company to come in tomorrow.

As I pull up my calendar, I also realize that I’ve got workmen here tomorrow to repair part of my building’s brick wall.

Finally, it’s supposed to thunderstorm tomorrow so I may also find out if my flooding issue is actually fixed.

For serious, home ownership isn’t at all what it’s cracked up to be.

Like I said, when it rains, it pours.

Me: Dessert?
Lviv: What no tea?
Me: I didn’t know you wanted any.
Her: I don’t think you’re really dating that many people from my country as you say. There’s no such thing as dessert without tea or coffee for us.
Me: I’ll file that away for future reference.

Podcast Version
Location: my 92 degree apartment
Mood: still exhausted, man
Music: I’m tryna fix this damage, yeah (Spotify)
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If you want something done…

…get a busy person to do it

There’s a saying I like that goes something like, If you want something done, ask a busy person to do it.

The day after furiously bailing water because of the flooding and then wiping stuff down, I was physically drained but my network had been giving me intermittent problems. So, I figured, since I was exhausted, I should just take care of that too.

To wit, I converted my traditional router set up to a mesh-router setup. It took six hours because it turns out that TWO of the three units I got were defective.

Me: (at midnight) So, what do I do now?
Customer Service: We’ll send you out two replacement ones today.
Me: Sweeeeet.

Surprisingly, I managed to get an old unit working again so, with two mesh units running, I crashed hard.

Woke up the next day and looked over at my computer case.

It was this cool glass and metal case called the Phanteks Evolv Shift ITX (this is the mesh version which isn’t as cool looking) but it was just slightly larger than I needed, at an internal capacity of 22 liters. So, a while ago, I got the 19.9 liter Cougar QBX case instead – much plainer looking but also much smaller.

I painted the front cherry red just cause I like pretty things.

Beer in hand, I gutted the Evolv and shoved everything – literally and figuratively – into the QBX.

Then, if all that weren’t enough, I needed to get some sandbags as a hedge against the thunderstorm that we’re supposed to be getting in tomorrow and Mouse just happened to in the area with a van earlier last week.

Me: Wait, can you drive me over to Amsterdam and 74th?
Her: Sure, get in.

Ended up getting ten 50-pound bags of sand and hauled them back to my pad.

Then, just today – in 95 degree weather – I put that quarter ton of sand into 14 sandbags and laid those out, installed an autosensing water pump, as well as a 50 gallon water barrel – molded into a tasteful white planter, of course.

Like I said, I like pretty things.

Speaking of pretty things, Mouse came by to roll with Chad and me over the weekend and, afterward, I treated myself to a film with her as a small reward.

Me: I saw this movie in theatres when it came out. You were negative 3 years old .
Mouse: Did it cost a penny?

I really should stop watching films with other people and just watch them alone.

Note that if you’re at all interested in SFFPCs, there’s a  Reddit thread I just found today on the topic.

Podcast Version
Location: today, my back yard, filling bags of sand for what seemed like forever
Mood: exhausted, man, exhausted
Music: you can take me home (Spotify)
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personal

Why do you have to ruin everything, Logan?

My apartment flooded

Last week was one of the craziest weeks in my life.

First of all, my apartment flooded. See, I live on the ground floor of a townhouse in Manhattan and, prior to my buying it, my pad would flood every so often.

But once I bought it, my buddy and I spent the first few months trying to figure out how to solve the issue. We did.

For well over 15 years, it’s never flooded. Not even close. Then, last Thursday – during that crazy freak thunderstorm – it did. Worse than I’d ever seen it before.

Four sets of plumbers later, it turns out that a rock somehow got into our system. The plumber wasn’t able to remove it but did manage to blast out all the debris around the rock so that the water would/could flow freely again.

At some point next summer, I’m gonna have to have someone cut into my wall, cut out a piece of pipe, remove the rock, replace the pipe, replace the wall, and get the whole thing repainted.

Home ownership isn’t at all what it’s all cracked up to be.

That’s only part of the week but no sense in telling you everything all at once.

On a different point entirely, it was Lviv’s birthday the other day so I invited her over to eat – Vietnamese again because I honestly don’t think there’s anything better when the weather’s hot.

Also got her a small cake/huge cupcake.

All-in-all, it was pretty nice. Well, that is until we settled down to watch a film.

Her: Oh, look at the swans.
Me: I think they’re ducks…
Her: Why do you have to ruin everything, Logan?!

For what it’s worth, I assume no one ever means, “duck.”

Podcast Version
Location: my empty apartment, post Mouse and Chad eating all the food
Mood: exhausted
Music: You tell me I won’t ever change so I just say nothing (Spotify)
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Heartgirl was Queen of my Heart

Except in reverse

Speaking of sad stories, I finally told Lviv mine before she went home for a bit.

Her: Can I ask what happened yet?
Me: I suppose you earned my sad stories. I’ll need some rum. (deep breath)
Her: (later) I’m sorry, Logan.
Me: Yeah, so am I.
Her: (wipes eyes) Man, I need a drink now.
Me: Yeah.
Her: I’m glad she had you.
Me: Yeah. (sighing) Lucky her. She was Queen of my Heart and I was her guard.

Lviv’s heart is in NYC but her home’s somewhere else.

I understand that all too well, except in reverse.

I took that pic of Alison/Heartgirl the second night I ever met her. Told her that, if she was my Ship in the Night Girl, I’d marry her someday. I never said that to anyone.

She laughed. But she was.

She had the most beautiful green eyes and happy laugh.

There’s no sin I wouldn’t commit to see and hear them again.

Podcast Version
Location: my hot, hot, home
Mood: drunk
Music: Your love is a secret I’m hoping, dreaming, dying to keep (Spotify)
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No new contestant

A nice touch

Meant to meet up with a new contestant last week but I bailed and saw the most important woman in my life after Alison, instead.

Her: You don’t have to come, it’s too rushed.
Me: It’ll just be for a bit and I’ll keep my distance. I miss you, mom.

But I did get to see ML for a hot second.

Me: Sorry, I’ve been busy lately.
Her: It’s fine. Every time a guy is with me, their status goes up.
Me: Man, and people think I’m vain…
Her: (shrugging) But, it’s true. (later) Dating in NYC is awful.
Me: It is. But, I think you exchange your sad story too early. People should earn your sad stories and you should earn theirs.
Her: Why?
Me: I want people to like being around me because I’m cool as fuck. Not because they feel sorry for me.

Mouse stopped by along with Chad on Saturday for just a bit to train with us again but then bolted to take care of her family.

It’s a shame because we all just ordered some more Vietnamese food.

She came back on Sunday with sunflowers for me and to say hi to the boy over Skype, again.

They miss each other and it’s mad sweet.

The sunflowers were a nice touch so I picked us up some Indian food. We ended up watching The Gentleman, because of a massive food coma.

The film was really excellent.

Her: (settling down) Don’t get any ideas, Logan.
Me: Heavens, I would never.
Her: (laughs) Suuure…

Podcast Version
Location: my hot, hot, home
Mood: happy?
Music: Don’t tell me to go (Spotify)
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personal

Hating being single

How do you think I’m accomplishing that?

It was raining here for a while.

Me: I wanted to tell you to your face, but the weather’s conspiring against us.
Her: Can I ask why?
Me: I don’t wanna waste your time – anyone’s really. I’m not your person and everyone should be with their person.
Her: Is it the other girl? Or your ex?
Me: That’s a distinction without a difference.
Her: I always did like how you talked. (later) Goodbye, Logan.

I hate being single.

On the plus side, Chad came by to coach Mouse and me on some new stuff that he’s been working on. They both said hi to the boy via FaceTime.

This is us listening to him sing the Rolling Stones.

She and I took Chad out to eat as part of thanking him for the training.

We also chipped in to get him a nice automatic watch.

Him: Wow, thanks you two.
Me: We wanted to give it to you after COVID for always helping us but who knows when that will ever be?

Afterward, she stuck around for a bit to catch up. In a weird but kinda cool nexus, Lviv wrote me about another guy she was seeing.

Mouse, upon hearing some of it, took my phone and gave her her opinion via text.

Mouse: You don’t need that in your life. You can find something better.

If there’s any commonality to the women I’m attracted to, it’s that they’re all universally kind. That’s a baseline requirement for me.

And all – very coincidentally – seem to come from the same European country.

Him: Wait, this is a new person?
Me: Yes. From the same town as one of them.
Him: Wha…how…are you finding them on purpose?
Me: How do you think I’m accomplishing that?
Him: I dunno, Logan. I feel if there’s someone that can figure something like that out, it’d be you.

Podcast Version
Location: Verdi Square, discussing Nightwing with Joseph
Mood: sad
Music: you made me happier than I’ve been, by far (Spotify)
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Weapons invite death

A Faustian bargain

Weapons and grappling are two, very different, forms of violence.

The former is binary – I will die and/or sustain grave bodily injury, or you will die and/or sustain grave bodily injury. There’s no middle ground. It’s useful as a force multiplier in situations like multiple attackers or similarly armed assailants.

The latter, however, has an n-ary relationship, whereby I can control the level of lethality from simple control all the way to death. It is my option. As with weapons work, grappling is also a force multiplier but it’s less useful against armed and/or multiple assailants.

When the police are not allowed to use the latter, their only option is the former. This means going from an n-ary relationship to a binary one of life or death/grave bodily injury. Again, there is no middle ground.

This is because weapons invite death. That is the nature of a weapon.

Mr. Floyd’s murder is a horrific one and one where the murderer deserves the most extreme punishment; at best, he showed a depraved heart, at worst, he’s just a piece of shit. But note that Mr. Floyd is dead precisely because of the option of death; the murderer chose to kill a man.

Just like you could kill someone with a fork, a fork serves many other useful purposes beyond murder – in fact, a fork is a sub-optimal means of killing someone, just as grappling is a sub-optimal means of killing someone. A gun or knife does that far more quickly and efficiently.

Note that, the particular movement used by the murderer – knee on neck – is one I’ve never done and would never do. I’ve never seen it done in real life. I’ve never had it done to me. It’s because it’s not the best tool for the job of restraint.

But to throw out the entirety of the latter – pin controls and restraints – means that the only option NYC is giving the police is the former.

This is Faustian bargain on its face; the very people the law Mayor DeBlasio is claiming to help will be the ones that will have to deal with the consequences of the police having less-lethal options to do their job.

Podcast Version
Location: home, waiting for a plumber
Mood: puzzled
Music: I don’t usually give in to peer pressure (Spotify)
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The only nice day of the week

Taking the invite

Me: I’m probably gonna work out with my friends that day.
Her: The only nice day of the week?
Me: Or, I could spend it with you.
Her: Good choice.

Her: How do I know I’ll be safe around you?
Me: Because you will be. And because I don’t lie and I never break a promise.
Her: Is that true?
Me: I suppose you’ll find out. I have my rules. But you’ll ask me before I ask you.
Her: I doubt that.
Me: That’s what every girl says.

Her: What’s that shirt say?
Me: Atari. It’s a game console from the 70s and 80s.
Her: Ah, from when you were born. Makes sense you’d wear that.

Her: You made out with both of them? On the same night?
Me: There were three actually, if you count her.
Her: (pointing over to the women at another table) You should make out with them.
Me: (shrugging) I’ll need more alcohol, but sure.

We ducked into an empty mall and had the whole joint to ourselves. I might tell you about that some other time.

Me: When is your birthday again? The 22nd?
Her: 23rd! OMG, Logan!
Me: What? When’s mine?
Her: (dismissively) How would I know? Besides, you’re old. You shouldn’t be celebrating.

Me: Beer or cider?
Her: I don’t drink beer.
Me: You just lost another point. OK, cider it is. (cashier asks for ID) See, she thinks I look young.
Her: She’s just being nice, Uncle Logan.
Me: (shaking head) That’s…that’s just mean.

Her: Watch the movie! (slaps phone out of my hand) And stop texting other women when you’re with me. Have some respect.
Me: You’re texting other guys!
Her: It’s my apartment!

Me: I had a nice time, Lviv. Thanks for inviting me down here.
Lviv: Sure. (smiles) Have a safe trip home.

Location: 10 mins ago, walking her to her car
Mood: so. damn. hot.
Music: It all comes back to you (Spotify)
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How JFK killed the hat industry

Mandatory Credit: Photo by AP/Shutterstock (5914946b) Spectator's crowd in front of inauguration stand as President John F. Kennedy took oath of office, administered by Chief Justice Earl Warren in Washington . Witnessing the ceremony, in front row of seats, from left, are: vice president Lyndon Johnson; former President Dwight Eisenhower, and Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy. Holding bible for swearing in ceremony is James R. Browning clerk of the Supreme Court. This picture was taken by AP photographer John F Kennedy inauguration, WASHINGTON, USA

The president leads

A cornerstone of this blog is that communication isn’t what you say, it’s what the listener hears. That’s because this is my blog and that’s a cornerstone of my life.

Above’s a picture of JFK’s presidential inauguration. Look at the men in the crowd of the picture. What do you see?

Hats. Dudes wore hats back then. Period.

But now, check out Johnson’s inauguration pic just a few years later. Notice that, while there are hats, there are a lot fewer of them.

What happened?

The answer’s pretty simple; JFK generally didn’t wear hats. And dudes that saw him walk around without a hat thought – consciously or unconsciously – Well, if he’s not wearing a hat, I’m not gonna wear one either.

Did JFK purposely go out of his way to single-handedly destroy the hat-making industry in America? Probably not. But that’s what happened.

Unintended consequences and alla that.

I’ve been noticing that the deep red people I know are suddenly fixated on China as the evil empire – which it is, for sure – when they never previously posted anything about it before.

Similarly, wearing a mask has become a political statement versus a simple safety measure.

I also note that Trump has generally not worn a mask and that the US now leads the world in COVID-19 rates and deaths.

To say that JFK destroyed the hat industry is to simply go back and piece together facts.

To say that Trump killed his fellow Americans by the thousands is probably similarly accurate, although only time will tell.

As for me, I’m glad that JFK didn’t wear hats because, with my huge head, I’d probably block out the sun.

Podcast Version
Location: Battery Park City, seeing about a girl
Mood: hot, hot heat
Music: I’m just gonna go out (Spotify)
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