A Play

Good looking co-worker: "Oh hey I like that shirt you are wearing."

Me: ***Just say thanks. If you say anything else besides thanks they will think you are beyond weird. Don't read too much into this. Its just a pleasantry.*** "Ah...well, thanks. I like your um salmon colored pants!"

GLCW: Huh?

Me: 😬 "Its cause I really like lox. You know like on a bagel!"

GLCW: Ok...well...bye!

Spooky

My son uses an app called Epic to read books for school. We paid for the full personal subscription this summer to prevent that summer brain drain. It's a wonder app loaded with books and then "read to you" functions that are like visual audio. Looks with flyout words. The app has minigame functions like rankings and  badges so it feels quite satisfying  to click "Finish Book" and see the screen sparkle with confetti.

The app customizes a personal library for the user and my son had developed a penchant,  organically,  for something from my past.

He adores books about unexplained phenomenon.

And it brings me back to tween and HS years where I began a "Para Science Club" (We could not call it Paranomal Club for fear of offending good Chrsitian folks. Aren't we a private  non secular school I told the princiapl. Yes, we are but stil...)
And this club was lame. Like the kids from Stranger  Things but with nothing to do. Our adviser, Ms Iorio, was the delight of the 7th grade boys and while glad to have the bodies it was still a bunch of 7th graders hearing about man eating plants from us seniors. We were so cool.

Seeing the words he reads are touchstones to a powerful developmental memory. I hear of those studies that say the music you loved as a youth will always be your favorite. There are no new tastes only what we have forgotten.

These words are touchstones. These incidents a collective memory I can connect him too

The Flatwoods  Monster
Betty and Barney Hill
Kirlian Photography
Geists
Psychic Vampires
The Rendelsham Forest Incident
Bob Lazar
Fortean  Times
El Chupacabra
Cryptids
The Greys

I show my son a picture of the original printing of Communion and he is not chilled (as I was. That feeling that crawls from the top of your heart and into your chest) but just covers his mouth but still showing a huge  smile.

The Audience For This Post Is Narrow

If existent at all then the audience for this post is narrow. It would be beyond awkward if anyone at work discovers this blog. Not because I slam anyone but because "Wow, that guy is weird." Or worse...that guy is boring. So no one will get this except me but it claws at my mind.

There is a pair of co-workers I am going to now jointly refer to as "The Raptors" because they are young, smart, assertive and "they test for weaknesses. so be careful when you present about the HR protocols!" And they keep you on your toes and keep you honest and are a through line for my tenure in my current gig. And they should have feathers because it makes scientific sense in dinosaurs and would look whimsical on people but I get it because it looks goofy. Plus allergies. And the mess!

And this is reference to Jurassic Park and the Muldoon's great white hunter pitch when we see the park feeding them. My kids have recently gotten into these movies (Their favorite is Jurassic World which is the best sequel but all of the sequels are not so great so there is that) and that came to mind.

Because of this I am going to change their MTG color alignment to Naya (White, Green and Red) because for sure they are core white with one leaning more so to the other. SO easy to splash the other color and because Naya dinosaurs ROAR! Zacama has three fucking heads!

Quick aside (If there is any constant to this post) is that whenever I think Jurassic Park I think of Channel Awesome Nostalgia Critic take on Jurassic World.



And I know that if you spend too much time on the Internet like I that there is justified concern over how Channel Awesome and the Walkers treated former employees and content creators (People I really like like Angry Joe, Linkara and Lindsey Ellis) but I am human and this whole bit gets me.

"I'm a raptor"

All I Want Is Bread

The doctor called and said "You are pre-diabetic"

"That's  not surprising," I said.

"I don't  want you to be diabetic!"

"Neither do I!" Albeit I thought this and did not say it aloud.

What runs in my family, I had dodged. High blood pressure? No, that's fine. High cholesterol. It's ok. The potential  to be diabetic? That I manifested myself defying any notion of genetics. I am the forerunner and my legacy is built on endless gummi bears.

The doctor put me on a low carb, high protein  diet. Cut down on the processed foods and skip the sodas. I never drink much soda but candy is processed and I would clean a stranger's gutters out with my daughter's plastic paw Patrol beach shovel  (It has Zuma on it, appropriately) for some candy. My shame is gone to ground if there is a Milky Way Midnight around.

And all I want is bread. All I want is the "taco de sal" which is a wholly un healthy but so satisfying of a dish. You take a flour tortilla and grill it in a scintillating hot frying pan with butter and salt. Just for a few second while the skin browns and blisters. That with a coffee or sparkling water was my vice. I've never smoked but if if really feels as good as people say then this has to be close because it felt illegal. Also, awful for you.

All I want is tiki drinks swirled up with rum. Rum a liquor literally made from sugar. Tiki drinks based on a trinity of rum, sugar, and lime. Now I can just have the lime. I imagine im a sailor fighting off scurvy. Shuffling dry powder from deck to deck and using the butter juice  to soften the hard tack bread.

The doctor also warned me of side effects of a pill she ordered. "Most patients see a 10 lbs weight loss when on it. Because it often gives diarrhea"

Like constant? Because I wondered that that would likely kill you before the diabetes.

Here he lies. Died in the bathroom trying to beat diabetes. Too bad.

"You actually dont have diabetes. This is just a kind of normal diet people do," my wife says.

But I fear become my father who died at 50 from choices he could have changed. I worry that I won't be there to prepare my kids for all the gives me anxiety in the world. This is how you purify water (because climate change will force more people to the well watered great lakes.) This is how you grow stalks of corn and trellis tomatoes. This how you jam in a drill bit (to board up your windows from super storms or maybe angry fanatics storming the streets) and how to escape a room in a mass shooting.

I worry about the cost if it becomes true diabetes because this is America and because I am selfish.

Because of this...I am not eating bread. Or, better put, eating lots less. So it now feels a luxury akin to how people market steak. Look at the marbling  on that galaxy of seeds and colors on the rye.