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  • ODDS and ENDS: The Rain, Making Breakfast, Coffee, and Tottenham

    (Don’t go breakin’ my heart…)

    I don’t know how things are where you live, but up here in New York, I think we are in the sixth weekend where it rains, especially on Saturdays. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s nice to have a cold rain Saturday in Fall, where you can curl up on the couch, read a book, watch a movie, take a nap – you know, do cozy stuff. After six weeks of rainy weekends, I would like to see the sun and go outside and not get wet. In the Summer, sometimes we get in a pattern of five days of sun, then one rainy day, followed five or six days of sun, and the cycle repeats. But rain every weekend feels a bit like a punishment. “Tough week? Working for the weekend?” “Tough shit! You’re Stuck Inside!” On the spectrum of disappointments, six weeks of rainy weekends isn’t that bad. Yet I do wonder if this is some kind of record.

    I know that I am not like most people, and I do have time in the morning. When I was working an office job, mornings were nothing but a rush, and not very pleasant. So now, with the extra time, I have started to try and treat the mornings as a calm start to the day, which includes a breakfast. Not a fruit bar, or frozen waffle, but a meal. Though it is a small meal, it is still a meal. I have noticed a few things after having done this for a month now. First, mornings are calmer for all of us now. Not as frantic, though some mornings getting the kid out the door can be a challenge. Second, with eating breakfast, I find that I don’t snack throughout the day. No mindless eating while working on things. The third thing I noticed about myself is that I feel like I have accomplished something. A while ago, I read that you should make your bed every morning because it will make you feel that you have order at the start of your day, and also that you have accomplished at least one task in your day. Yeah… I never felt like that when I made my bed. But, I do have that feeling after having eaten and fed my family. Just saying…

    I need another cup of coffee.

    Tottenham plays on Monday, which is annoying.

  • Checked That Box

    For those of you that read this blog, and follow me on Twitter/X (all two of you), then you know that I had an announcement yesterday, which was that Rejection Letters published a piece of mine – “Memorably Forgettable.” I have been a fan of this journal for a while, and I really appreciate that they included me in their publication; very cool.

    And as such, I checked off a box on my list of goals for this year – Get One Story Accepted.

    I was prepared to get deep in rejections for this year, as I have received 50 of them so far. I do prescribe to the “100 No’s Before 1 Yes” theory, and as such still feel like there is a lot of rejection out there for me to receive yet. (My Submittable cup runneth over…)

    But, more importantly, I gotta get back to work. I still got a blog to write, a journal to fill up, and a corner in my apartment to sit in and try to make some stories work. And I should be reading more, to be honest.

  • Short Story Review: “I Am Pizza Rat” by Han Ong

    (The short story “I Am Pizza Rat” by Han Ong appeared in the October 23rd, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (There are SPOILERS!)

    Photograph by Melissa Schriek for The New Yorker

    As a kid who grew up in the 90’s, I am a sucker for slacker lit. You know, meandering stories, aloof narrators, whacky characters, and a general revelry for nothing happening… you know, whatever… Perhaps Kerouac created this genre of fiction with On the Road and Dharma Bums. And it’s a tough genre to execute. The form appears antithetical to the general format of short fiction and novels, as slacker lit just wants to stay mellow and float on down the road, but to work effectively, it still needs a climax. And it pains me to say this about “I Am Pizza Rat” by Han Ong, which is a charming and enjoyable short story, but lacks an effective climax, and leaves the end of the piece feeling flat.

    And I liked this story and the writing. The narrator is a fifty-one year old struggling writer who lives in New York City, but is out in San Mateo, California taking care of his seventy-six father who recently had a fall and is recovering. The writing has just the right tone of sadness and depression in it, but also a touch of irony and humor which never lets the story go too far in the dark corners. We meet the instructor of a FALLING NATURALLY class, and his pot selling brother, Bun (pronounced “Boon”) the African nurse, members of a Gilbert and Sullivan Group, and the idiosyncratic routine of an elderly father. And there are animal videos. But at its core is a father and son story, and slowly the life of the father is revealed, and the trauma he experienced, and how he made imperfect efforts not to pass that along to his son. And the son is aware that his father tried, and mostly succeed, at ending this cycle of trauma.

    This is all great stuff, which makes the climax all the more disappointing. I read the story twice, and decided that the climax is the last paragraph of the second to last section. See, the father asks the son where he goes when the nurse comes to the house, and the son replies that he goes to the university library and has started writing again, thus gaining his confidence back. Then the narrator goes on to say in the same paragraph, “In stories, books, I’m a sucker for the moment when the dormant character awakens.” As if this ironic “wink and a nudge” of a line is to suffice as the “realization moment” in the “Hero Cycle” where the hero has changed from the events of the story, thus leading to the resolution. Unfortunately, this lands hollow as the action is told to us, and not shown. This choice feels lazy in an otherwise active slacker story.

    Look, endings are hard, and I don’t believe this ending “ruins” the story. It’s just more like a record scratch in an otherwise very good song. There are moments and observations in here that Han Ong shows a deft hand with. Especially with the father/son relationship, which is the core reason I would recommend reading this story.

  • The Pumpkin Blaze

    There is an annual Autumn/Halloween event that my family takes part in, which is The Great Jack O’Lantern Blaze at Croton-on-Hudson. My wife was the one who found out about it, and when my parents came to visit back in 2017, she got tickets for all of us. It was perfect for everyone, as we were new parents with a one year old, and the pumpkins were just flashing lights to our daughter, and that captivated her attention. And for my folks, it was just enough walking, and also something rather unique that they didn’t have in Texas. After walking through the Blaze, we drove down to Tarrytown for dinner, and then showed my parents the real Sleepy Hollow, along with the bridge and the Old Dutch Church of Headless Horseman fame. Since then, we try to make it out to The Blaze every year.

    This year was no different. Got tickets, and made plans with another family to all go together. Like most years, things happened and we left late. Traffic was awful getting out of the city. We were all late getting to the restaurant, and had to eat quickly. Luckily, the kids were all in a good mood – no melt downs.

    And it was worth it. The kid is getting old enough now that none of the jack o’lantens are scary to her, and even some of the joke carved pumpkins she gets and finds funny. There is still enough innocent excitement with her there that makes the experience special, and also transforms Halloween into more than one night of fun, but a season of events. (We apple pick, and visit a pumpkin patch as part of our Halloween traditions as well.)

    For me, I enjoy this night of being close to Sleepy Hollow, and the historic location where The Blaze takes place. Something about driving home through the woods of Westchester county, knowing that somewhere out there the Horseman is supposed to ride, and like clockwork every year, the kid asks from the backseat if Ichabod was a real person who escaped from that ghost. And then there is the connection of The Blaze being an event my mom was able to do with my family. We only got three years with her, to do grandma things, and let her shower her youngest granddaughter with attention. The kid has virtually no memories left with her Mim, but I have this one. And though my daughter doesn’t remember doing it, she was one after all, but she knows that it happened. We just continue on the tradition.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Blame the Mother, Khaki Pants, and Things I was Wrong About

    (Sugar Ray say…)

    Last night I was having drinks with a friend, and old friend from high school, so we have known each other forever. We got on the topic of parental roles, as she feels that as a mother, she inevitably always gets blamed by her kid for everything. (Our kids are pretty close in age.) I don’t think she’s wrong, mom’s do take the brunt of blame, at least that’s what my mom claimed all the time. But, I wondered if one’s parental role plays a factor? My friend and her husband both work, and split equally parenting their kid; both cook, clean, do laundry, do homework, go to playdates, and dance classes…etc. While in our household, my wife works, and I take care of the kid and home. So, I feel like I take the brunt of blame from the kid, which I attribute to spending the most time being with the kid on a given day. As such, our discussion fell along those lines; is parental blame due to gender roles, or quantity of time spent with the kid? I don’t think there is a clear answer to this other than when our kids do something right, the first person they thank is always mom.

    I have to buy khaki pants soon. The pants have seen better days, as I purchased them right before Covid. (Because Covid is a designation of time, and not just an event.) I used to never own khaki pants. Like, went out of my way not to own any. I think it was due to those stupid GAP swing dancing commercials in the 90’s. (I wonder how many of those people in that commercial are now teaching dance classes?) Then I job a job, and I started wearing a tie, and a sports coat, and I got khaki pants to go along with the whole thing. Now, I have the same number of khaki pants as I do jeans. Funny how life changes you.

    Speaking of which…

    I can admit now that I was wrong about a couple of things:

    1. Sugar Ray
    2. The Texas Rangers this Season
    3. Jasper Johns