I wake up a lot at night. I wouldn’t call it insomnia, because I do a pretty good job going back to sleep after an hour or so. During that hour I read and think. I used to watch TV, but that kept me awake longer. Last night around midnight I decided to listen to some relaxing music, and that sent me on a journey that’s lasted into this morning.

I’ve had Tame Impala in my head for a while. All I knew of them was a couple of songs heard on FM 94.9, the alt-rock station here in Socal. Lately they’ve been playing The Less I Know the Better, a great song to relax me while driving.

With an Internet device in my hand, I can’t help exploring. So in addition to listening to Tame Impala music, I decided to find out more about “the band”. It didn’t take long to learn that Tame Impala isn’t really a band, it’s just one guy, the immensely talented and cool Kevin Parker from Australia. From Wikipedia, “…Parker writes, records, performs, and produces all of the project’s music.” Mind blown! I read Parker’s life story, listened to a few more tracks and then went back to sleep.

I woke at 530am with an odd idea in my head. Parker reminded me of John Lennon…maybe John Lennon reincarnated? A high-pitched though soothing voice, a pioneer in new music, a lyrical genius. Check, check and check. Same damn Jesus-style haircut, check. So I checked the date of Lennon’s death – Lennon died in 1980, and Parker was born in 1986. So what was Lennon’s soul doing those six years before re-entering this mortal plane as Parker? Probably figuring out how to make music without Paul, George and Ringo via electronics, then coming up with ideas for music and lyrics like New Person, Same Old Mistakes.

“New Person, Same Old Mistakes”

I can just hear them now
“How could you let us down?”
But they don’t know what I found
Or see it from this way around
Feeling it overtake
All that I used to hate
Wonder what if we trade
I tried but it’s way too late
All the signs I don’t read
Two sides of me can’t agree
When I breathe in too deep
Going with what I always longed for

Feel like a brand new person
(But you make the same old mistakes)
I don’t care I’m in love
(Stop before it’s too late)
Feel like a brand new person
(But you make the same old mistakes)
I finally know what is love
(You don’t have what it takes)
(Stop before it’s not too late)
(I know there’s too much at stake)
(Making the same mistakes)
And I still don’t know why it’s happening
(Stop while it’s not too late)
And I still don’t know

Finally taking flight
I know you don’t think it’s right
I know that you think it’s fake
Maybe fake’s what I like
Point is I have the right
I’m thinking in black and white
I’m thinking it’s worth the fight
Soon to be out of sight
Knowing it all this time
Going with what I always longed for

Feel like a brand new person
(But you make the same old mistakes)
I don’t care I’m in love
(Stop before it’s too late)
Feel like a brand new person
(But you make the same old mistakes)
I finally know what is love
(You don’t have what it takes)
(Stop before it’s not too late)

Parker’s body of work is much larger than the few songs I’ve heard on 94.9. I’m gonna have fun listening to it all. Tame Impala is suddenly right up there on my personal playlist along with Bilie Eilish, Khraungbin, Rush, and Jackson Browne.

The news from the eastern KY floods just keeps getting worse. My heart goes out to them.

I grew up with floods. Born in a town surrounded by floodwalls (Catlettsburg), I saw my grandparents’ home just down the river in Ashland flooded several times when I was very young, under the age of ten. Floodwater leaves a dark, mucky, stinky mud several inches thick once it recedes. Even if your structure survives, you’ve got to remove all that smelly muck. And these days it’s also likely poisonous, with god-knows-what chemicals in it, courtesy of the petrochemical factories upriver in West Virginia. And garbage – floods grab all the garbage in their path and leave it for the unfortunate flood victims to clean up. The floodwater and mud in southeastern KY won’t be as polluted as that of the Ohio River, but it’ll still be a mess.

Most of the towns in Appalachia are built in river and creek valleys, a bad practice in retrospect. Compare that with all the Italian towns on hilltops. Those towns were built on hilltops as defense measures against raiders, not floods, but the defense works for both threats. Kentucky’s settlers would have been wiser to model their towns after the Italians. Residents of places like Garrett and Dwarf, KY may get their chance – much of those little towns will have to be rebuilt, and they should strongly consider rebuilding on the hilltops.

Another irony of floods like the one in eastern KY is that they pollute and ruin water systems. After all that rain, there’s no fresh potable water in places like Garrett. It may takes weeks to restore fresh water services.

A final irony in all this flood news is that here in Fallbrook, it hasn’t rained since February, and it didn’t rain much then. It’s dry, dry, dry. And it’s not likely to rain until November.

California (Yosemite) is burning and Kentucky (Appalachia) is drowning in rain. Both extremes and both situations are horrible. As we consider all that pain and damage, we need something soothing to keep us going. So here are the soothing lyrics to James Taylor’s amazing song, Fire and Rain.

Just yesterday mornin’, they let me know you were gone
Suzanne, the plans they made put an end to you
I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song
I just can’t remember who to send it to

I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I’d see you again

Won’t you look down upon me, Jesus?
You’ve got to help me make a stand
You’ve just got to see me through another day
My body’s aching and my time is at hand
And I won’t make it any other way

Oh, I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I’d see you again

Been walking my mind to an easy time
My back turned towards the sun
Lord knows, when the cold wind blows
It’ll turn your head around
Well, there’s hours of time on the telephone line
To talk about things to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground

Oh, I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I’d see you, baby
One more time again, now
Thought I’d see you one more time again
There’s just a few things coming my way this time around, now
Thought I’d see you, thought I’d see you, fire and rain, now

This verse in particular is the one that sticks with me. Pure poetry.

Been walking my mind to an easy time
My back turned towards the sun
Lord knows, when the cold wind blows
It’ll turn your head around
Well, there’s hours of time on the telephone line
To talk about things to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground

We all need to walk our minds to an easy time.

Tonight we go to see the unique Leo Kottke at the BellyUp Tavern in Solana Beach. I bought these tickets a while back not knowing if we’d actually be in town, but here we are. I hope his talent has held up through the pandemic and the slow inevitable decline of age – he’s 76. I love guitar music and guitar players, and Kottke is in the very top tier. It’s been a couple of years since we’ve been to a music venue, and I sure hope we’re not making a mistake by going to this one at a time when BA5 is hitting San Diego pretty hard.

And speaking of COVID hotspots, we’re making final plans for our late August cruise to Alaska. We cancelled the cruise to S America and Antarctica earlier this year because of the worst case scenario of getting stuck very sick out of the country. Somehow cruising up the Canadian coast and then back into US waters seems a lot safer. We’ll see…I plan to spend a helluva lot of time walking round and round the ship on the outside track, sightseeing while getting some senior exercise done.

On the golf front, earlier today I read the first non-bullshit explanation of why someone would leave the PGA tour for the LIV tour. Many pros have said “it’s not the money”, when we all know it’s the money. But Charles Howell III mentioned that he looks forward to playing on his LIV team, playing golf as a team sport rather than an individual competition. Now that makes some sense. Being part of a competitive team is one of the most fulfilling activities in life, and LIV offers that every week, as opposed to one or twice a year for the traditional tour. Maybe they’re on to something.

Finally, I’ve started reading books collected at the recent Louisville Imaginarium conference. They’re not all great, but two authors in particular stand out – Trace Conger and Jeffrey James Higgins. Conger, based in Cinncinnati, writes excellent crime novels that remind me of Elmore Leonard (high praise, for sure). Higgins has written a good thriller set on a sailboat, titled Furious. I enjoyed meeting them and have enjoyed their work.

Yesterday was my Dad’s birthday. He had a tough one, as he spent the previous day in the ER and his birthday more or less recovering from that grueling experience. But he made it to 87, and that counts for something. At this point in his life it’s one day at a time, and that’s OK. Every day is a little win.

Thinking about birthdays, it turns out I can remember a lot of mine, at least the big ones.

On my 16th birthday my parents threw a party for me and my best friend Mike Delvizis. Little did they know that Mike and I had conspired to only invite girls. We thought it was great, but my Mom was pretty pissed. Chalk it up to being 16.

For my 20th birthday some of the guys at the steel mill (my summer job) took me to Huntington for a night of pub crawling. I don’t remember much of it. Probably for the best.

For my 30th birthday, I played tackle football with a bunch of the “young guys” just out of college at my workplace. They didn’t invite me originally, as they considered me old. At the game, I scored every single time I touched the ball. None of them could tackle me or catch me in the open field. I proved my point (not so old, huh?), and they never invited me again.

For my 40th birthday, daughter Emily and her then-stepsister Janay made fun of me becoming an old man. I received a cane and some other elderly assistance items. They had great fun, and I was just happy to be with them.

On my 50th birthday, I think K threw me a big party at the CA house, but I wasn’t into celebrating much. Pretty sure it was a great party (the parties at the CA house kind of run together after all these years). Fifty was the first time I felt old, so I think I downplayed that one.

For my 60th birthday, we got the extended family together in KY and had a great time at Emily and Greg’s house. At least until a relative got wasted on bourbon and accused me of some stupid/evil stuff, at which point the goodwill spell broke and we parted ways. I’ve always regretted that event – it was so outlandish, and it kinda spoiled the day for me.

These days birthdays are just a warning post that says “objects in your windshield are closer than they appear”. There’s not as much runway left as before. But it makes me thankful for every good day.

This week we’re getting our newfangled water filtration system installed. The new pump is back in the well, 600-ish feet down. Here’s a picture of the crew doing that work in and among the thirsty trees surrounding our well head.

Parts of the new filtration system are at the house/garage (a water softener and last-stage filters), but one of the more exotic parts is an addition to our storage tank – a “water polisher”. It swirls the water around in a whirlpool and sucks out the particulates through a process I don’t yet understand. For now it’s just FM. The polisher is pictured below – it’s the device with an orange stripe around it on a skidpad.

We’re investing a lot in our Water 2.0 system, but with good reasons. I’ve watched in dismay as our old system produced water that killed as many trees as it saved – the irrigation water was just too full of salt, iron and particulates for many plants. The new system should make the water as pure and salt-free as any city water system, without the chlorine. Check with me in 4-5 years and we’ll know if 2.0 did the job.

My brothers and I are functioning as the de facto health care advocates for my Dad, and it’s a busy job. Every morning lately we check his status, check his medical record, rally others to perform any necessary on-site tasks (my in-state brothers are a tremendous help here), badger and beg the various MD offices and the assisted living facility staff to pay more attention to his declining health. Today we had to bring in the heavy artillery and send him to the ER for some procedures. I don’t think this is the way things should be, but it’s the way things are. For anyone who doesn’t have an active, aggressive advocate to shepherd them through our crazy healthcare system, good luck. The system is made of mostly caring people, but as a system it fails to put the puzzle pieces together and get the right thing done at the right time for seriously ill people. It’s hard to believe until you’ve experienced it.

Finally, someone else who is thinking clearly about energy, water, and climate. Casey Handmer writes about photovoltaic solar as the way out of the environmental mess we’re in.

Handmer is really good at backing up his ideas and opinions with facts and trends from reliable sources. That doesn’t make the idea a buildable design, but it tends to increase one’s confidence in it’s feasibility.

He’s landed on some of the big ideas I’ve been pushing – PV farms powering desal plants to provide water for the western US. In addition, he’s touting the big idea of turning today’s energy economy upside down via a LOT of PV:

One of these ways has produced the cheapest electricity ever. Electricity so cheap that in an ever growing number of markets it now makes more sense to turn solar electricity into hydrocarbons, than to burn hydrocarbons to make electricity

His arguments are compelling. And he’s gone for the trifecta of a process where not only do we stop burning hydrocarbons to create electricity, we extract C02 from the atmosphere as part of the process.

If I were just a bit younger I’d join his company – this is a vision for the future I can get behind. I’ll look into how I can help makes those ideas a near(er)-term reality. My grandsons’ future needs some help.

Pro tip – invest in PV panel production companies. They’re going to be crazy busy if this future takes hold.

Facts for when your relatives lament how Biden is destroying the country. Yeah, I know, gas prices are high. But anyone with a brain knows that oil companies determine retail gas prices, not the government.

Facts don’t lie. Thankful to @POTUS pic.twitter.com/wyD07pYV9M

— Peace ☮️, love, voting & womens rights 💔 (@Bidenwonthnkgod) July 12, 2022

Here we go, down the slippery slope.

1. With Roe overturned, in conservative states women are going to be forced to carry a pregnancy to term and give birth whether they want to or not.
2. Now, in Missouri and soon elsewhere, pregnant women cannot get a divorce. So not only are you forced to give birth, you are forced to stay married to someone you may wish to part ways with.
3. Next, SCOTUS and certain conservative politicians have already said they’re coming after the right of contraception, so conservative women, your chances of getting pregnant just went way up.

Let’s face it, ladies. If you live in a conservative state, the state is going to own you and your body. You’re a possession, not a person. You’re going to have very little to say about your adult life. So wake up, and start voting Democratic.

Those of you who want the state to control your life, well, you can move to Missouri.

Update, 4-5 hours later. Further down the slope, and fast…

Just now:

A former supporter: “Joe, why’d you leave the GOP?

Me: “Because I believe in freedom.”

Him: “Bullshit. Give me 1 example of Republicans being against freedom.”

Me: “2 hrs ago, 96% of House Republicans voted against people having the freedom to use contraceptives.”

— Joe Walsh (@WalshFreedom) July 21, 2022

This is the most amusing thing I’ve seen in a while. Mutineer’s Isle.

NEW SONG PARODY pic.twitter.com/zLBwK60AH4

— Roy Zimmerman (@IamRoyZimmerman) July 20, 2022

I’ve been reading about MOND, or Modified Newtonian Dynamics, as an alternate theory in the mystery of dark matter. The science community invented dark matter as a way to explain the motion of galaxies, which was inconsistent with classical Newtonian equations. That invention, that hypothesis, has led to a decades-long search for evidence of dark matter. With zero success.

I’ve always had some skepticism on the idea of dark matter, which according to the hypothesis makes up 80% of the universe. Really? 80% of reality is invisible and undetectable…that’s weird. The SF lover in me says well, maybe that’s evidence of the 15 or so dimensions that some folks think defines our reality (we only perceive four of those dimensions) – all that dark matter is simply rolled up in those extra dimensions. Maybe, but that’s hypothesis on top of hypothesis.

All MOND does is modify Newton’s gravitational law a tiny bit, basically saying that gravity isn’t a constant, isn’t linear, in all realms of space-time – rather, it’s a gradient that is defined by mass density in a region of space. Nothing else in General Relativity has to change – MOND only addresses gravity. That makes a whole lot of sense to me. With a simple edit of a long-cherished equation, the need for dark matter simply vanishes.

People a lot smarter than me are debating this fiercely, and that’s cool. My money, based more on logic and intuition than on deep understanding of the math, is on MOND. One last thought, the ever-entertaining and educational Sabine Hossenfelder has a unique take on the debate.

After clawing my way home yesterday on crowded freeways, I spent the evening watching the latest installment of The Nightmare on Constitution Avenue, aka the Jan 6th Committee Hearings. I’ve changed my mind about the slow pace of the hearings – at first I thought it was a mistake, but now I think it’s an absolutely brilliant political move. The Republicans decided to boycott the hearings and not place any of their loyalists on the Committee. That gave the Committee chairman and the Democratic Party free rein to drag the fact-finding out for months, and an unfettered prime time TV platform to highlight how awful (and treasonous…and treacherous…and duplicitous…I could go on) Trump and his cronies were as they tried to overturn the 2020 election. It’s just brilliant. Apparently they’re going to take August to analyze more information and script more hearings, then resume the slow-motion Trumpster train wreck in September.

And it’s heartening to see that there are still people of ethics and honor out there among the conservatives. Cheney, Kinzinger, the witnesses who resigned the day after Jan 6th – they all realized that Trumps actions and inactions around the election were treasonous and that they couldn’t be associated with it. In Cheney and Kinzinger’s cases, they’ve sacrificed their careers to see that it doesn’t happen again. Good on them. And a pox (yeah, a monkeypox) on the Republican “leaders” who condemned Trump a few days after the 6th, only to morph back into shameless bootlickers once they realized their hard-core voter base demanded it.

On the home front, today the crew shows up to pull our well pump from 650 feet underground and replace it, and then start the task of revising our water filtration systems. It’s been twenty years since we drilled the well, so this 2022 investment in water security isn’t unexpected and will pay off in better, sweeter water and an increase in the eventual resale value of the property. And hopefully, the better quality water will stop the slow death of many of our property’s oldest trees and plants. The heavy salt and iron in the water has been too much for many of the more exotic trees. The eucalyptus don’t care of course – they can apparently grow in Hell itself. Figures.

Also on the home front, Comicon is back in full swing in San Diego this weekend. Any other time, I would make the effort to show up at the biggest/baddest nerdfest on the planet, but this year it’s just not gonna happen. Dealing with family health care issues, leading two companies, bouncing back and forth between homes, trying to finish my novel, and dealing with my own needs to get healthier – it’s a lot. So while Comicon would be fun, I need the time and energy for other things.

I hope to post some pictures of the pump-ectomy later today. Should be interesting.

Tough first day back in Socal. Almost wrecked (twice) on a crowded freeway where the pattern was high-speed driving and then sudden lane stops. One guy screeched to a stop within 2-3 feet of my bumper on a high speed stop. Then my already ill father tested positive for COVID, which sets an unfortunate chain of events in motion, like appointment cancellations, appointments that he needs. And anyone who has been around him – like me and my brothers – have to consider if they (we) are at risk. I think I want to go home, go to bed and read a good book. Or several.

In Chicago for a 3 hour layover. I’ll land in Socal by noon PST, so while it’ll be a long day at least I’ll get there with some daylight left.

This visit to my adopted city of Louisville was…interesting. Eventful. Saw some old friends and family, spent time with the grandsons, ate some great meals. All that is normal. A few things that weren’t normal:

• Spent a weekend at a writer’s conference. Enjoyed it a lot; accomplished most of what I wanted. Now I have to just carve out time to write.
• Went to a funeral visitation. At my age that is likely to become a more common occurrence.
• Shared the Louisville house with family. Loved seeing them, but having a couple of extra people around highlighted the need to furnish the upstairs so we have two full areas where a person can stretch out and relax. One of the reasons we bought the place was to be able to host visitors there, and with the upstairs empty that’s not practical. So off to the furniture shops on the next trip.
• Spent a lot of time dealing with my Dad’s progressive illness and lack of care. We’ve got the MDs now focused on him and taking some action. We’ll see where that leads.
• Spent about double what I’m used to spending for a rental car over the two week period. Rental cars have gotten *expensive*. That may change my calculus on keeping a car there versus renting.
• Played a round of golf with a new set of senior-flex graphite clubs. Didn’t like ’em much. At least they were cheap.

So…interesting couple of weeks. The best meal of the trip was a tie between the bison burger at Brix and the shrimp and grits breakfast at Big Bad Breakfast. Best new food item was the olive bread from Blue Dog – my brother Mark discovered that, and it’s spectacular. Man could actually live by bread alone, if it were that bread.

The schedule for my next visit is up in the air – a lot depends on findings from Dad’s next couple of MD visits. Hope for the best, plan for the worst – that’s my typical approach.

I can’t tell you how much I despise messages like this. What is the world country coming to, that this is an actual ad designed to get people to vote for this person? And many people will in fact vote for her.

Ah yes. The required campaign accessory for Republican politicians. pic.twitter.com/6WA9RdiaPv

— Ron Filipkowski 🇺🇦 (@RonFilipkowski) July 17, 2022

And I’m sure she’s all-in on Jesus and “pro-life” too. Jesus, guns, and babies, the new theocracy’s mantra. Christianity, much like Islam, has been captured by violent, hate-driven radicals who insist that their belief is the only truth and that any who oppose them deserve to die.

Seeing this is a rough way to start your day. But it’s better to know how far gone these folks are than to be surprised later, when they come for your rights. Or impose their beliefs onto your government. I’m wondering where my right to walk down a street and not worry that everyone except me is armed to the teeth fits in.

I have relatives, people I love, who are staunch gun advocates. I don’t think they’re violent or hateful, and I respect their belief – I disagree with them, but that doesn’t change how I feel about them. But unfortunately, gun culture has a large percentage of people who are hateful toward anyone not like them, and who tend toward violence. If US gun culture advocates would police themselves better, we wouldn’t have people like this politician above who advocates for zero controls.

I saw this today on a website about modern air travel etiquette. I respectfully but definitely disagree.

“Can everyone please keep their ass in their seat when the plane lands? It’s incredibly rude and disrespectful when the back passengers fill up the aisle, and I’m stuck in the middle waiting to get out. The front gets up and leaves, aisle by aisle to the back. Don’t be a dick.”

Well…after I’ve sat peacefully and respectfully for 2-4 hours in my seat, I want to get up when the plane lands and stops at the gate. I need to stretch. Not to try to beat anyone to the exit, but to relieve the pain/pressure of sitting in a cramped position that long. I expect everyone else who has an aisle seat to do the same. I’m happy to wait my turn by row, to exit, but I want to do it with stretched arms and legs if possible. Not a dick.

Definitely got my wish, we had a big storm last night with house-shaking thunder. It was as if Thor himself called down the lightning. Good stuff.

Today I attack the King’s Daughters Medical Center’s inaction on my Dad’s illness. Emails and phone calls to let the various “providers” know that Dad has an advocate and he’s asking questions. Lots of them.

The only other goal for the day is to spend some time with the grandsons.

I finally figured out how to see The Open on my streaming-only TV here in Louisville. Today is/was the final day, and I got real focused on finding a way. There’s always a a way, and in this case it didn’t even involve a fee.

Once found, the final 4-5 holes were great to watch. I was rooting for Rory, and Cam Smith isn’t my favorite player, but Smith was superb today – he deserved the win. Poor Rory couldn’t make a putt. Smith was assassin-cold, made all the putts. That’s golf in a nutshell – drive for show, putt for dough.

I was there seven years ago, 2015, at the previous Open championship at St. Andrews. It is a magical experience for anyone who loves golf. Watching today brought back great memories. On that day I played Carnoustie in the morning and then took a cab over to St. Andrews to watch The Open’s final round. Epic day. Best golf day ever, even better than my 2001 hole-in-one.

It’s gonna rain today, and I can’t wait. It’ll cool things off, and I’m simply ready for some rain. I’m voting for a big thunderstorm.

I did something yesterday I haven’t done in 22+ years – used a lawn mower and cut the lawn. The CA property has zero grass, so it just hasn’t been a thing all these years. But I’ve been paying too much for lawn maintenance here in Louisville, so I bought a high-tech battery powered mower and used it. I wish I could say it was great, but nope, lawn cutting is still a pretty boring job. It looks good when you’re finished, but…the back and forth gets old fast.

BMW has miscalculated with their latest innovation, IMHO. They want car owners to pay a subscription fee for heated seats. What a terrible idea – when I pay for a luxury car, I expect all the features to be included in the price. I understand BMW’s desire for a recurring revenue stream, but….no. Just no. It feels petty and disrespectful for a loyal customer base.

We got some bad news about our well water system in CA yesterday. Our underground pump needs to be replaced, and as long as we were getting that replaced we decided to upgrade the iron, hardness, and particulate treatment filters. The bad news is that it’s all going to be *expensive*, in a year when we have a lot of travel planned. First world problem, I know. But our poor water quality has made irrigation problematic – over time the salty, iron-rich water has killed a lot of previously healthy plants and trees. So it’s a necessity.

I have a new brain today. I’m pretty sure I killed the old one last night at Brix. Great food, interesting wines, and then dessert and bourbon at my cousin’s place. That second stop was the deadly one. I wasn’t driving, so no worries there. But it seems the new brain is having trouble integrating with the old body – it hurts. Shocker.

The food at Brix was good, maybe very good. I had a super-tasty bison burger, one of the more modest of their entrees. Loved it. But their wine service was unique. They have a large and (allegedly) interesting collection, but no wine list. WTF? Their server indicated that they had great wines from every region and multiple price points, so just give him a region, a varietal and the price you’d like and he would pick something. My initial reaction was “Ummm, no”. My second reaction was to take him up on his offer and give him the instructions “any wine from the town of Maury in southern France, ideally a Syrah or Grenache, and if perfect, a bottle of D66 or Pertuisane at any price”. That was a total fail – they had nothing. But I kept playing their game, and we eventually wound up with a nice Spanish Cava, then an interesting Grenache from the Rhone river area (pictured below), and finally a very good Russian River old vine Zin. That’s for five people, so our per-capita consumption wasn’t unreasonable.

The no-wine-list thing is just not a good idea. I have no idea why they do this, but they should change the practice. Part of the fun of being a wine snob is being able to decode a complex, world-spanning list and select something from your personal experience and taste. Our server was a nice guy, but we just met him and I have no idea if he really knew anything about wine. I’m not a fan of outsourcing my judgement to an unknown person. And I had to check after the fact in terms of price – did we get a deal, or were we charged way too much for the wines our server selected? Turns out they gave us a fair restaurant price for the wines, about 2X retail, so at least that was legit. I’ll definitely go back to Brix, but I’ll bitch about the missing wine list.

Back in Louisville after a couple of days trying to support the elder generation – a moving-target definition that’s getting smaller all the time. Attended a funeral (visitation), helped my Dad with some medical misadventures, and visited an old family friend in Mt. Sterling who is alone these days in her late 80s. That’s a tough gig. All that, plus 7 hours of driving and a few hours of business calls sprinkled in, wiped me out.

So today I started the Blue Dog therapy program. Walked to Blue Dog and picked up a tasty quiche and one of their spectacular olive loaves. A walk home, a bit of each, and life is noticeably better. Bakery therapy – it’s a thing.

Back to healthcare, I got access to my Dad’s online medical record, courtesy of Epic software. Should’ve done that a while ago. Now I can see all his meds, test results, appointments, providers, etc. This will give me and my brothers the information and leverage we need to make sure he’s getting real care, not just getting bounced around. That plus some business meetings today is all I plan to do. Well, maybe another round of bakery therapy.

Very, very strange day. Not bad, just strange. Here I am in a shitty hotel about a half-mile from my high school football field, the place where my identity as a hard worker and an athlete (that was then, sorry to say) became ingrained. Like everyone I suppose, some of my best and worst memories were made just down the road, at high school. Perhaps I haven’t come that far in the past 40+ years, after all. It’s hard to escape your origins.

I came to my hometown to pay my respects to the mother of my best high school friend. In doing so I went back in time and place. I saw old friends and even a football coach. It was great to see them, in spite of the occasion. I made the mistake of driving past my Boyd County home, and it has aged better than most. I loved this picture of it – it turns out there IS an exit from eastern KY, and some of us found it. It doesn’t have to be a dead end.

This is the place we lived when I was age eight through about 15. At age 15 we moved to a house 100 yards away, a place that has been torn down. This place remains, in great shape. Most of the homes around it have succumbed to the strange eastern KY blight of tiny shacks all together, their history of rusted autos, washing machines, and refrigerators displayed proudly (?) around them. This place, our place, has avoided that fate. I’ll give my Mom the credit for staving off the decay – she was an enemy of entropy. A force for progress.

Back to the reason for being here. My buddy Mike is the same as ever – high school thin, a full head of hair, an angelic smile, and now a proud father, grandpa, and patriarch. If I didn’t love him so much I’d hate him – we all should age so well. But he’s one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I was happy to be there to honor his Mom. She was like Mike – unforgettable. One of a kind.

The other part of this strange day was that I was shocked to see my Dad. He has gone downhill hard since I saw him a month ago. He has some strange fluid-retention-in-the-chest problem that no one can seem to diagnose, so I called his pulmonary specialist and raised hell. We have an appointment with said specialist tomorrow and I hope I can get to the bottom of his malady. Hence the stay in the shitty hotel. If we can’t figure it out, I fear he won’t make it through the next UK basketball season. That’s all I ask right now – that we have one more season to commiserate, winning or otherwise. Go Cats!

These wonderful lyrics from Slaid Cleaves pretty much sum up the state of the world lately:

I don’t need to read the papers
Or the tea leaves to understand
That this world’s been shaved
By a drunken barber’s hand

Just couldn’t say it better myself. Gonna have to listen to more of that guy’s music.

On my way today to see Dad and then to attend the pre-funeral visitation for an old family friend, Mrs. Doris Delvizis. Doris was a force of nature, a person completely unique in my life as a teenager. Her son Mike was my best friend in high school, and it’s sad that her passing is what brings us together again. But that’s the way of it in one’s latter years – weddings and funerals are what bring us together. Doris’ wonderful obituary can be found here.

This was a nice birthday present. I love the fact that we’re still investing in science and looking ever-closer at the universe. Seeing hundreds of galaxies in one shot is awe-inspiring. Each galaxy will contain 50-100 billion stars!! So if what we’re seeing is a simulation, it has spectacular detail. And if it’s real (my assumption), it’s beyond comprehension. My idea of heaven would be getting to visit a lot of that.

Turns out that being out in the sun makes men hungry, but not women. Who knew?

Day three of the conference was again interesting. I arrived at 9am for the very first session, knowing that it might be a shitshow – Dr. Anna was on another panel. And she did not disappoint. Within 45 minutes otherwise polite and reserved panelists were arguing with her, calling her out as a liar, getting very heated. Even the audience took her on. She is either a master-class troll or she really believes her BS and has zero people skills. Either way, she’s a troubled person. I suspect the conference won’t invite her back.

My second session was a class in scene development, and we had to write a scene based on a given scenario, right on the spot. It was fun, and helped me realize that I can hang with all the MFAs (people with Masters of Fine Arts degrees, who seem to take a lot of pride in that credential) and be creative on demand.

For what it’s worth, here’s my on-demand scene. The scenario I was given was “…something unexpected happens at an ATM…”. I wrote this in 25 minutes, so don’t be judgy.

—

The ATM kiosk outside the bank was poorly lit and filled with trash. Agnes had to step around questionable piles just to enter. She scrunched her nose – at least one of the piles had to contain human waste.

Shit. Literally, shit. Just what I wanted, a visit to the dump on my way home. But I promised the money first thing in the morning.

Agnes took a quick look around and saw nothing but her broken down car and an otherwise empty parking lot. Fumbling for her card, she managed to find it and present it to the machine. Hunching over the tiny counter, she saw her pitiful balance show up in bright green: $221.00. She hung her head as she punched in the numbers that would get $200 into her hands.

As the machine spit out her cash a voice behind her said, “Don’t move. Hand over the cash.”

Agnes stood perfectly still. “Please. You don’t understand. This money is for drugs, for medication. My son is sick.”

The thief looked stricken, then adopted a more hardened expression. “Sure. You’re just saying that.”

Agnes turned to see a slight man holding a gun with one hand. “No, really. You have to believe me. I owe the pharmacy over a thousand, and they won’t fill another prescription unless I pay it down some. This is all I have. Please!”

The thief took a step back and muttered, “What are the odds?”

Agnes turned to face her robber. “What do you mean?”

He lowered the gun a bit. “I’ve never done this before, but I have a sick kid too. She’ll die if I don’t get the money to get her a transplant.”

They looked at each other in suspicion.

He’s not really a thief. Still trembling, Agnes said, “My name is Agnes. What’s your daughter’s name?”

“Joe. Josephine, actually, but she goes by Joe.”

“I like that. What’s wrong with Joe? It sounds serious.”

“Her liver is failing, and we don’t have insurance. Her only hope is a black market liver.”

The silence between them stretched on until Agnes broke it. “My son has allergies, bad ones. He’s allergic to everything. But it’s not going to kill him.”

The thief’s arm was now completely lowered. He looked broken. “Allergies can be awful.” He turned away to leave.

Agnes shouted, “Wait!”

“You need the money more than me. Take it.”

“I can’t. This was a terrible idea.”

“Yes you can. Please. I get paid again in two weeks. My son will be OK. And your Joe sounds like a wonderful girl.”

The thief hunched over and wept.

—-

My third session of the day was a disappointment. I went to a worldbuilding class, and the guy leading the group was at the head of the table in a smallish room. The only seat left was right next to him. He was masked, and I recognized him as the guy who showed up on Friday and announced to his friends that he had just gotten out of COVID quarantine. He coughed once or twice as soon as I sat down, and I made a quick exit.

I then went to my second choice seminar, a session on urban fantasy. I walked in, bigger room with only a few people. But as soon as I sat down the session leader, a woman who looked like she had the flu (red face, kind of a pained expression) started coughing with a nasty wet cough. I made an even quicker exit and decided that the conference was over for me.

All-in-all, it exceeded my expectations. Some good content, a lot of inspiration, opportunity to meet a great bunch of authors, editors and small press publishers. I am re-motivated and ready to write – mission accomplished.

Day 2 of the conference had some surprises. A panelist on the “Indie versus Traditional Publishing” panel went rogue. She was dismissive, condescending, arrogant, and rude to the other panelists. Never seen anything like it – by the end of the hour, people in the audience were standing up and shouting at her. I had run into her one-on-one previously, where she collared me for a conversation, so I knew it wasn’t a gag or performance art. This person has PROBLEMS. We didn’t learn much at that panel, but it was entertaining.

The cosplay awards were last night, so the cosplayers were out in full regalia. I took some pictures of them – here’s an example, the Western KY Ghostbusters. Who knew?

Even the panels had some cosplay action.

But I did have one weird and awkward conversation with someone I considered a cosplayer.

This top-hatted gentleman (pictured below), was dressed to match the macabre theme of his booth. I asked to take his picture and then told him “Great costume, man.” His reply was a slow, deadpanned “It’s not a costume.”. I laughed and replied “Sure, whatever, but it works. He looked a little hurt and then started to tell me about his stroke and that now he feels free to be who he really is, so he dresses this way every day. Awkward. I stammered something lame and moved on. If he was putting me on, he was very good at it.

Today I go for one last dose of entertainment and inspiration. Up to this point the conference has been pretty much what I hoped for. I’m very glad to have met so many creative people in and around Louisville.

Conference Day 1 was pretty great. It’s a tiny conference, so all the speakers and panelists are very accessible. There were some good sessions, though I couldn’t help but think that for most of them I could’ve done as well as the panelists. My years of speaking at technology conferences would give me an edge on most of these youngsters. But part of the plan is to just get my head back in the writing space, not necessarily learn a lot. And yesterday definitely accomplished that.

I met a couple of potential editors for the book, and a couple of potential small press publishers. It seems the hierarchy these days is indie publishing (pretty much Amazon Kindle), then small press, then traditional publishing houses, in ascending order of difficulty and stature. For indie and small press, no agents required. I kind of like the small press option, as online sales are always an option in any publishing mode.

The cosplay crowd at the conference was pretty amusing. They’re different, by definition. I can’t imagine getting dressed up to specifically attract attention – that’s the introvert speaking, and I would *hate* that. It’s actually an effort for me to speak to and meet new people – my inclination is to just observe and move on.

Tough start for today, however – rough night (not) sleeping. Quite a bit rattling around in my head after a day of meeting people, thinking about writing, and making plans to do some things differently.

I missed a lot of fun rainstorms yesterday. I could hear the thunder in the session rooms, and at breaks I went out to see the downpour. These were cloudbursts; so much rain coming down that you’re soaked in a second. Very cool to see after months and months of dry in Socal.

Anyway, off to Day 2. Today I *will* get over my reluctance and strike up some real conversations with folks I may want in my network.

Today is Imaginarium Day 1 – really looking forward to that. And today is another good day to avoid reading the news too closely. Monkeypox, Japanese PM assassination, more US shootings, political investigations, AZ strikes again with “can’t record police” law, praying with The Supremes…yikes! It’s no wonder I’m retreating into science fiction and fantasy. Downloading one’s consciousness into a virtual world is starting to sound pretty good. But then there’s these guys to offset the shitstorm of the “real world”.