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I have no pictures of donkeys

So Diesel

The thing that’s driving alla parents and teachers nuts these days is the kids randomly yelling out the numbers, 6-7! at the top of their lungs.

If you wanna know why, read this. But it is maddening.

Then again, I figure every generation has its weird saying that irritated adults – gotta figure, that’s at least a major reason why they do it in the first place.

For me, there was a buncha items of slang that I remember, most of which I put into the novel I wrote years ago.

In the 90s, someone who was “diesel” was someone that was strong; “cock diesel” was someone super strong.

I was reminded of this when I came across a story about a donkey named, Diesel that escaped from its ranch in 2019 out in California.

The reason was that he was frightened by a mountain lion and ran off.

His owners spent weeks looking for him but never found him and assumed that he ended up getting killed and eaten, most likely by mountain lions.

But Diesel’s story didn’t end there. It was only the start.

More pictures of not donkeys…

See, a donkey, matching Diesel’s description, was discovered living with a herd of wild elk in 2023.

The assumption was that he found a new home and family.

But it gets better.

Evidently, local wardens found a dead mountain lion that was kicked to death by a hoofed animal.

The next time the elk herd was found with Diesel, Diesel was – evidently – their leader.

Now this one isn’t even a real horse.

In other words, the thing that ended his old life – a mountain lion scaring him from his old home – was the thing that that started his new life – facing a mountain lion, killing it, and becoming the leader of a herd of animals, not his own.

His old owners, upon seeing videos of their donkey, said they were just going to leave him be because he looked happy.

Not just happy but happy and thriving…in a position of leadership to boot!

He found his tribe.

Knew I had to tell you about this story the moment I read about it because it fits so well into my idea that we cannot move forward unless we face up to our pasts.

So many people I know are doing exactly that, and I’m so proud of them for doing that, truly.

A little before my own life as I knew it ended when Alison got sick, I told you about a quote from Chesterfield that went: Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.

Almost a dozen years later, I’m revisiting that quote and that idea and leaving my familiar shores to try doing more new things.

I’ll let you know how it goes when it happens.

Location: a middle school, trying to figure out what to do
Mood: achy
Music: My physical is strong, and my mind is cock diesel (Spotify)
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We are what we constantly do

ONE MILLION!

Me: Heya, can you tell me one more time how many times my videos have been seen? I’m writing something about it for my blog.
Producer: The exact number up to July 8th, 2025, was 236,526,963 on YouTube only. But if I had to guess YouTube is closer to 280m and with TikTok you’re closer to 350m.
Me: Holy shitballs!

Years ago, I told you that the reason the 3 Musketeers candy bar was called that was because each one had three bars, with ear bar a different flavor: chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla.

But, for a variety of reasons, it’s just chocolate now.

And did you know that Daisy – the makers of the Red Ryder BB gun in A Christmas Story, was originally a windmill company?

They used to give away BB guns as promotional items for their windmills, but their promotional items became more popular than their main business, so they ditched windmills completely to focus on BB guns.

I’m trying, I’m trying, just hold on…

Speaking of Daisy, there’s a major BJJ competition team called Daisy Fresh, just because the team originally trained in a beat-up laundromat called, “Daisy Fresh,” and they figured it was easier just to keep the name.

That happens a lot.

Like, two fellas named Henderson and Moore bought a hotel in Massachusetts that already had a large, expensive sign on the building.

It was cheaper to just keep the sign, so they ended up calling their entire hotel chain the name on the sign – Sheraton.

Finally, there’s this popular sandwich shop named Potbelly that was once was Chicago antique store that was struggling.

So, they hit on this idea to sell sammies that they heated up with an old potbelly stove that they had in the shop.

My point’s that the things we think we know actually probably went through a lotta things to become the version of the thing you’re familiar with.

And things that you know of in one form may actually have been something else entirely.

My little side project I first told you about years ago, Scenic Fights, just hit one million subscribers.

There’s a really funny backstory to that whole thing that I’ll tell you about some day.

But I digress.

OK, it’s not a Sheraton but I don’t usually stay at those.

The thing is that there are alla these people that now know me as Logan the Weapons Guy from Scenic Fights, and I’m proud to be known as that.

And, of course, there are all those people that know me as Logan, the intellectual property lawyer.

And I’ve got this whole other career – two, actually – that I’ve only ever mentioned to you in passing but I’m held in pretty high regard there as well.

I do alla those things but the two things I’m proudest of – and I’m proud of everything I just mentioned – are being the kid’s dad and my writing.

Because we are what we constantly do.

And those two things are the things that I constantly do the most.

There are somea you that have been reading me since the Livejournal days and I feel that, outta everyone that “knows” me, you all know me the best.

Because what you’re reading is the most closely aligned with how I really am (edited), I think.

So, thanks for helping me/us get to 1 million on Scenic Fights.

And thanks, most of all, for continuing to read me.

One of these days, I’ll have something important to say.

Oh, a special nod to my buddy Mark H. Anbinder who’s been reading me for decades – and still constantly comments (!) and I’m super thankful for that. Shockingly, he’s still on Livejournal.

And my friend Debra, whom I’ve not seen in decades, just dropped me a line outta the blue saying (a) she’s still reading me and (b) is writing herself now.

Location: a middle school, trying to figure out what to do
Mood: achy
Music: I’m hopin’ I can find what’s left of me (Spotify)
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Well, that didn’t work

A warming plate

Him: It’s like having a C-Section. Essentially, they cut you open from the front, remove all your insides and put it on a warming plate…
Me: A warming plate?!
Him: (nodding) A warming plate. Then they get to work on your spine. For me, it’s been lifechanging. I don’t even think about my back anymore.

Missed posting on Monday because it’s just been a bummer around here.

So, after a solid year of physical therapy, countless doctor’s visits, tons of medication, and – finally – that spinal epidural last week, I can say that there’s been zero improvement with my back whatsoever.

The thing about the shot is that it was/is the second-to-last option, with the last option being back surgery.

But even that gets complicated; a recent article that just came out late last month noted that about half of back surgeries didn’t do a thing.

And the surgery is no joke.

This past weekend, we went to hang out with the Surgeon and Steel and met a famous weatherman who had the back surgery.

He was one of the few people I know that had a successful one – pretty much everyone else has been struggling with back pain even after surgery.

It was disheartening, to say the least.

This was on top of the shot not doing a damn thing for me.

I’ve got a follow up with the shot doctor in about two weeks where he’ll give me some options but, so far, it’s not been encouraging.

On a positive note, however, my buddy is outta surgery, outta the ICU, and currently in a step-down unit before being discharged home.

Here’s to whatever small wins we can get, when we can get them.

Her: He had jello and a cup of tea before I left tonight.
Me: It’ll be a porterhouse and a glass of red in no time. Thanks for the update!

Location: a middle school, trying to figure out what to do
Mood: achy
Music: remind myself that I’m better than this (Spotify)
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You really gotta stop posting pics of your kids

Telling our stories our way

One thing that we’ve been talking about over at Scenic Fights is the rise of AI and how you can take anyone’s likeness and make videos outta them, like this CBS reporter did:

It’s pretty impressive – and horrifying at the same time.

You can literally make anyone that you have pictures of, do anything.

Seriously, anything (I’ll let you fill in the blanks here).

On this note, you may have noticed that I don’t put up any pictures of my kid with his face showing.

I used to write his name in this blog, but I don’t even do that anymore – that’s the main reason I call him “the kid,” here.

As for why I did that, I’ve told you about before; which is that it’s not fair for me, as his parent, to take away his right to privacy/anonymity just because I can.

What if he doesn’t want to be known? What if he wants to write and tell his own story his way?

If I have years of posts about him complete with his face and everything, that will be all the more difficult.

But even in the back of my mind, I knew that technology would improve to the point where anyone could take a picture and animate it to make it appear that the picture person was doing something they never would.

In fact, that was the main subject of my lecture in Spain all those years ago.

The thing is, I never imagined that it would happen so quickly.

So, I’m doubly glad that I’ve not put up pictures of his face and will continue to do so – and I ask that you consider doing the same if you have kids.

If this whole #EpsteinFiles horror has taught us anything, it’s that there are some seriously messed up people out there.

Location: a bar, getting snockered
Mood: …snockered
Music: I’m diggin’ in, gettin’ ready for what comes (Spotify)
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Eskimos (DON’T) have hundreds of words for water

I call BS

My kid’s friend: It wasn’t just any fruit. They ate an apple.
Me: (shaking head) That’s not true, man. The bible doesn’t say what fruit it was.
Him: It is true! It’s in the bible!

When I was around 12, I repeated something about someone that turned out to be completely false.

That woulda been fine except that it ended up hurting a girl that I had a crush on.

Despite my honestly thinking it was true, she never spoke to me again.

Don’t remember the girl’s name at all but I remember the situation and learned a valuable lesson that day:

Don’t repeat something unless really know what you’re talking about.

For example, have you ever heard someone say something like, “Eskimos have XX words for snow?”

That’s complete BS.

See every culture has hundreds of words for water.

Obviously, we have the general word water, just like German does (“wasser”).

But all of the following are also types of water:

    • lake, which is a body of water surrounded by land (“der See” in German)
    • pool, which is a small body of water surrounded by land (“die Lache” for a pool of liquid, which I think is what they would use)
    • river, which is a moving stream of water of a fairly large size (“der Fluess”)
    • stream, which is a smaller a current of water similar to a river (“der Bach”)

Of course, we could go on here, with brook, tributary, flow, etc.

We also geysers, waterfalls, etc.

In the air, we’ve got clouds, precipitation, snow, hail, rain, sleet, etc.

Underground, we have aquifers, groundwater, water tables, etc.

When it’s solid, we have ice, slush, glaciers, icebergs, etc.

These are all off the top of my head. There are so many more.

My point being is something I told you many times before, which is that there are alla these saying that have the air of truth to it, without a hint of actual truth to it.

No real reason for this entry.

Just a general observation.

Speakinga observations, I note that the government’s shut down.

Wonder what that’s all about.

Me: (amused) That’s because the Latin word for apple is “malum,” which is a homonym for their word for “evil.”
Him: Oh…
Me: Look, you can give advice to adults…but you should make sure you’re right first.

Location: shooting Scenic Fights all day at my old gym
Mood: mentally and physically exhausted
Music: Please stick to the rivers and lakes that you’re used to (Spotify)
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Mr. Lo and the Rats from NIMH

Friends are the receipt we have for a good life

Him: Can I watch something?
Me: Can you read instead?
Him: Do I have to?

If there’s anything that’s a source of friction between the kid and me, it’s reading.

As someone that grew up with a total of five channels – ABC, NBC, CBS, PBS, Channel 55 (which is an in itself entry one of these days) – and zero friends, books were my primary source of entertainment.

So, I don’t understand how my child is so adverse to reading.

Fair use

One book that I think about quite a bit, even now, was a book called Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH.

It’s a kid’s book but, roughly, the story goes like this:

Mrs. Frisby was a mouse married to a mouse named Jonathan, who was killed. Alone with just her son, Mrs. Frisby discovered that her house was about to be destroyed and needed to be moved, but this was impossible because her son Timothy was sick.

So, she pled with an owl, who refused to help her. Until the owl discovered that she was Jonathan’s widow. Then he helped her. And told her to find the rats of NIHM because they too knew Jonathan would help. They would help because she was his widow, and Timothy was his son.

You see, it turns out that Jonathan was one of only two mice that were left from NIHM. Because of the experiments there, they both had exceptionally heightened intelligence. Because Jonathan used that intelligence to help the rats there escape, the rats always felt in his debt.

Now, when Jonathan met Mrs. Frisby, he hid all this from her. Because he didn’t want her to think any differently of him. He just wanted a normal and quiet life with her.

Man, do I get that.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Anywho, as the story went on, Mrs. Frisby discovered that her husband had this entire crazy life before her and that people loved and respected him.

He gave up everything to just have a quiet life with her but the kindness that he gave to others lived on, long after the relationships faded.

The funny thing is that I always thought that I’d die before Alison. But I often thought of this story while she was pregnant and thought, If anything ever happened to me, I’m going leave her and the kid a crapton of good friends that will make sure the two of them are ok.

Unfortunately, as fate would have it, she died before me.

But I’m still amazed at all the friends I’ve collected throughout these years did exactly what I expected them to do – be there for the kid.

Like, just this morning, I was in Brooklyn picking up three (more) huge bags of clothes that my old college buddy Cappy and his wife saved for the kid.

I think that friends are the receipt you have that you lived a good life.

Alison’s friends have also helped us through these times, good and bad – like the ABFF and my SIL.

So, I’m grateful that we’ve both lived lives where we both collected brilliant and good people along the way, because, man, did we need them.

Me: Dude, just read a book. If it’s a good book, it’ll be just as good, if not better, than anything you see on TV.
Him: (resigned) Fine, papa. I’ll read…
Me: (laughing) It’s not a punishment, kid.

A lotta people don’t realize that NIMH was a real place.

It was.

It was short for the National Institute of Mental Health and the kicker was that it focused on mental health.

For someone struggling with insomnia and depression, the irony is unexpectedly deep.

Location: Earlier today, near Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn
Mood: grateful
Music: Don’t take what’s not theirs, they don’t compare (Spotify)
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Our usual schedule

A good start

Me: What do you think?
Him: Logan, you’ve had some stupid ideas before, but this has got to be the worst one yet.
Me: (laughing) Wait, what about…
Him: (holding up hand) Nope. I’m stupider now having heard your plan than I was just before hearing it.

Been chatting with Rain on the regular again.

He’s living in the country right now and has, essentially, become a farmer.

Hell hath frozen over.

But that’s his story to tell, not mine, so I’ll stop here.

Now that the kid’s back, we’re easing back into our usual schedule.

We were supposed to meet up with my college friends for a picnic at Governors Island but ended up not going because it was gonna rain.

We were gonna just have a quiet day at home, but then the ABFF asked if we wanted to get dinner so we did that instead…

…and then ended up by her pad to play some cards.

The Firecracker introduced everyone to Big Two, which I found amusing.

On the topic of games of chance, we also tried our hand in winning Powerball.

I’m sad to say, we are not billionaires.

It’s probably for the best.

Another friend: Let’s say you did win, what would you do?
Me: First thing is upgrade alla my friends to people way too good for me.
Him: (laughing) All of us?
Me: If I won a billion dollars, you’re all dead to me.

The next day, the kid went to a bday party and then a playground afterward.

I think it’s interesting how I both (a) have a normal now and (b) it’s a new normal, so different than when it was just Alison and me.

It’s not – at all – what I thought my life would be but, I’m grateful I have it.

Me: How was your first day of school?
Him: Good!
Me: Do you like your teacher?
Him: Yes, she’s so nice!
Me: (smiling) Great! It’s a good start to the year, then.

Location: home, cutting a box to make it a shipping cost go from $76 to $24
Mood: committed
Music: No, I don’t want it to stop (Spotify)
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Moving water doesn’t freeze

Gather Ye Acorns

Ok, the year is 1986 and I’m a very fat, nerdy, “just-turned-a” teenager.

An anthology series by Steven Speilberg called Amazing Stories, which was a bit like a (then) modern take on the Twilight Zone, is must-watch-tv.

Because this was in the time before cable and YouTube and you either watched what everyone else watched or you had to sit on the sidelines as the other kids talked about it.

Man, I loved that show as a kid.

One of the stories that really sticks out to me was Gather Ye Acorns, which starred Luke Skywalker himself, Mark Hammill.

In it, Hamill’s a young man that meets a weird old dude – who’s actually a troll – that tells him to keep everything he’s ever loved, even if the world mocks or belittles him.

So, Hamill’s character does so and holds onto comic books, toys, and pop culture trinkets – for decades.

Just like me.

These are actually my buddies; I was more of an X-Men/Batman kinda kid.

Unfortunately, like the rest of the world, the young man turns into an old man, and a poor old man at that.

What’s worse is that, the whole time, people either think he’s silly – which is the best-case scenario – or a complete idiot.

His parents eventually disown him and toss him out.

He ends up alone and, eventually, homeless.

Now an old man, Hamill’s character is frustrated and angry, cursing the fact that he met the old troll and ruined his life.

A bitter old man, he ends up just waiting to die.

Yet he somehow finds himself at a collector’s auction where he’s mobbed because everyone wants his “junk” – alla which is now super valuable.

The story ends with Hamill’s character wealthy, vindicated, and – perhaps best of – finally seen by those around him.

I did exactly that – yes, sometimes with actual stuff, like comic books, old electronics and the like – but also with things in my head.

I remember telling my college buddy, Crawford that, “One day, I’ll be a swordsman.”

He laughed and said, “Well, one day, I’m gonna live on a sunny island like Jimmy Buffet and play the guitar on the beach.”

Guess what? We both did exactly what we said we’d do.

Because neither of us gave up on our “childish” dreams.

What a difference that makes, not giving up on the things you love.

That’s the thing that makes me different from other people, I think: Like Hamill’s character, I rarely gave up the things I loved, like peanut butter, Spam, kali, comics, short stories, etc.

That can be a disserve at times, but – by-and-large – it’s served me well.

When everyone else quit kali, I kept it up. For almost 20 years, I would go. Usually twice a week and then once a week when the classes got more sparse.

But I’d always practice by my lonesome at night.

This was 15 years ago. That was our old space.

Likewise, many of my very well-meaning friends – like the one way above and even my own father-in-law, caution me about continuing to wrassle with 20-somethings.

But I know that if I stop, that’s moment I’ll truly become become an old man.

See, I know that I’m mathematically 52 years old, but as long as I can keep doing the things I love, I don’t believe it.

There’s an old saying I like that goes, Moving water doesn’t freeze.

So, I gotta keep moving.

Her: Why don’t you run with me?
Me: Sorry, I need to train.
Her: So, lemme get this straight – you’d rather roll around with a buncha sweaty men, than jog with your amazing fiancé.
Me: …yes?
Her: (slowly nods) Ok then…

On that note, we just did a crazy cool thing on Scenic Fights.

I’ll tell you all about it when it finally happens.

Location: home, cutting a box to make it a shipping cost go from $76 to $24
Mood: committed
Music: I survived. I’m still breathing. I’m alive (Spotify)
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Labor Day 2025

Loganisms

Her: When I was a kid, we played a card game called, Big Booty. But I don’t remember how it’s played.
Me: I assume it involved your butt?
Her: Actually, not at all..
Me: That’s both a disappointment and a misnomer.

Saw my college friends this past weekend out in the wilds of Long Island again.

It was really nice that we bookended this summer by kicking it off with them

…and then closing it out with them.

Like always, it was a ton of fun, and a good way to give both boys one final good weekend before school began.

In fact, the kid stayed in the pool for the vast majority of the time we were there.

The ridic delicious food didn’t hurt.

And I even gave in and had some donuts – along with my requisite peanut butter.

Katsmw: You know, [my husband] is eating peanut butter more and saying Loganisms these days.
Firecracker: Does he constantly talk about eating “protein, fat, and fiber” at every meal?
Me: Oh, you’ll thank me when he’s old and looks amazing.

On that note, I was talking to Rain about the kid growing up so quickly.

Me: It’s weird being on the other side of childhood. I remember that, as a kid, school and the years would just draaagggg. College was four years, but it seemed like forever.
Him: Yeah, that makes sense. When we were in college, it was 1/5 of our lives. Now it’s just four years.

College lifetimes seem to sprint by these days.

Actually, everything sprints by these days.

He’s starting up fifth grade now, which seems so wild to me.

Cause I remember fifth grade fairly well and I felt I was a lot older than my kid is now, which I know is purely in my head.

Then again, I spend way too much time in my head, I think.

Location: home, listening to the dulcet sounds of just one jackhammer right outside my door, so…yay?
Mood: less jackhammered
Music: Suffer in the morning, but that taste is all I wanted (Spotify)
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Train (still) on time

Mentally mapping trains

Her: Before I buy more KFC can you check the freezer to see if we already have KFC?
Me: Check the freezer?! Baby, all we’re doing is adding to our current KFC stash if there’s *already* KFC in the freezer. That’s like saying, “Hey, before I make more money, check the bank to see if we have money in the bank already.” Do you hear how that sounds?
Her: Someone’s hangry right now.
Me: Clearly!

The kids are both back for school to start next week. While they’re growing up quickly, we’re still not ready to let either of them take the trains by themselves yet.

This is despite the Firecracker’s kid being just obsessed with trains.

Trains and the subway show up a lot in this blog – even way in the beginning – because that’s my main means of transportation, which is kinda strange if you think about it.

I suppose most of you travel by car and such but that’s a luxury here in the city.

When the Firecracker and I went to Vienna, we didn’t think twice about taking the trains.

And years ago – before this blog, if you can believe it – I went to visit Prague and Berlin and had to get someplace off the train line.

Asked a local where the nearest station was and he said we should take a cab instead because their subway system was so complex.

I remember laughing and saying, “I’m from NYC, I think I’ll be ok.”

And I was.

Same with Vienna and every other major city I’ve ever been to.

Essentially, if you can make it around the NYC subway system, any other system on the planet is a cinch, language issues notwithstanding.

Interestingly, I read this article which said that “city transportation maps with over 250 connections are too complex for most people to navigate. In fact, a staggering 80% of trips in New York already exceed this cognitive limit.”

Meaning that just being able to take the NYC subway system puts you in the elite of cognition as it relates to mental mapping.

In some ways, that’s part of why I wanna raise the kid in the city versus elsewhere – because he’s constantly being tested and pushed in ways that he doesn’t even realize.

Well, that plus the fact that I can readily get all sortsa fried fowl, even in the midst of a pandemic.

Hangry…

Location: by a pool in Central Islip
Mood:
Music: oh my, the train is gone (Spotify)
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