Goodbye Maggie

***GOODBYE MAGGIE***

Tomorrow afternoon, Dale and I are going to the vet to put our dog Maggie to sleep. She has lived to be sixteen years old, much older than normally expected for her breed. During the final moments of those sixteen years, she’s had a litany of health problems that justify euthanasia. She was blind, deaf, weak, incontinent, physically unstable, and an all around sick dog. She’s constantly in pain and there’s only so much we can do for her before having to make this ultimate decision.

Maggie came into my life in 2005 when her owner, Dale, married my mom in his original home state of Wyoming. She was accompanied by another Springer Spaniel dog named Molly. The two of them would bounce, play, and wrestle happily together all the time. Maggie’s favorite toy was a blue ball that she would fetch while Molly’s was a leather Frisbee. I’ll always remember Maggie and Molly getting in a tug-of-war over the Frisbee and Molly would get an unfair advantage by shaking her head.

Three years ago on Father’s Day, Molly passed away due to lung cancer and it was a death that hit all of us hard, especially Dale. Three years later, here we are again in the month of June having to watch Molly’s adopted sister Maggie be put to sleep. Sixteen years. Sixteen fucking years and it’s all over. Given her declining health, it was a foregone conclusion, but that doesn’t soften the blow that our family will no doubt feel.

There isn’t a whole lot left to say except for goodbye to our elderly ray of puppy sunshine. Rest in peace, Saggy-Maggie. You will be missed dearly.

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“If they say who cares if one more light goes out? In a sky of a million stars, it flickers, flickers. Who cares when someone’s time runs out? If a moment is all we are, we’re quicker, quicker. Who cares if one more light goes out? Well, I do.”

-Linkin Park singing “One More Light”-

Dale Update

***DALE UPDATE***

After successful heart surgery, my step-dad Dale is finally home from the hospital. He seems to be in the same good spirits he’s always in as evidenced by his ability to enjoy a rerun of NCIS: Los Angeles on TV. He’s only been away for a short while, but everyone here at the house missed him. The animals are especially glad to see him back judging from how Tori jumped up on Dale’s chest and purred like a lawnmower. He’s going to have to make a lot of phone calls to his distant family to tell them how he is, but he’ll survive. See what I did there?

As part of his recovery process, plenty of things in his life are going to change. He won’t do as much heavy work as he normally does, he can’t eat fatty or sugary foods anymore, and he’ll have to take a shit ton of medication in addition to what he takes now. Since Dale’s going to be eating healthier meals from now on, we all will and quite frankly it’s about time. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t make the best food decisions and it shows with my lack of cardio and my big belly. Maybe with more rabbit food around the house, I’ll have no choice but to take better care of my body. Losing weight is important to me, but now that there’s going to be a stronger support system in place, I can actually do it. More importantly, Dale will have a lot longer to live.

Peace and order have been restored to the Haines-Temons-Stevens-Wilson household. Dale still has some resting and recovering to do, but that’s the easiest part of this whole ordeal, especially when the animals all want to snuggle around him. At first we worried that we wouldn’t be able to take care of our 15-year-old Springer Spaniel Maggie anymore. She’s blind, deaf, senile, and shits and pisses on the floor on a regular basis. With Dale out of the hospital and recovering nicely, Maggie can also continue to enjoy her elder years on this earth. The running joke around our family is that this house is a retirement home for both elderly animals and people. Nobody seems to have a counterpoint for that joke. Hehe!

Mom and Dale’s east coast vacation is still off the table, but Mom is optimistic about the two of them being able to see Paul Simon perform in Denver in late June. I swear to god, you should see Mom’s face light up like a Christmas tree anytime I give her a Paul Simon CD for a gift. I gave her one for Mother’s Day along with Trevor Noah’s memoir and she grinned from ear to ear. Come to think of it, Father’s Day isn’t too far away either. I hope Dale will have the same reaction when he opens his presents. Hell, it’s the easiest bet in the world!

That’s all I have to say for now. In short, Dale’s doing just fine now and he’s going to keep doing fine as the years go on. Thanks in advance for your positive vibes. I’m Garrison Kelly and I’ll see you next time!

***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

It’s another week at the WSS and this time the prompt is “Eye of the Storm”. I have a funny feeling that we’ve had that prompt before, but maybe it was worded differently. I’m not entirely sure, but I have a short story ready to be written nonetheless. It’s called “I Am Death”, but it’s not about the Muslim heavy metal band with the same name in my recent first draft novel Demon Axe. On the contrary, it’s much, much different!

CHARACTERS:

1. Kobra, Street Illusionist
2. Lux, Kobra’s Assistant and Girlfriend
3. Keith Turner, Racist Murderer
4. Nameless Black Protesters
5. Nameless KKK Members
6. Nameless Police Officers

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Kobra’s angel of death gimmick involves heavy windstorms.

SYNOPSIS: Protesters, counter-protesters, and cops are gathered around the Paulson City courthouse awaiting the verdict against Keith Turner, who went on trial for murdering an eight-year-old black girl. Keith is eventually found not guilty and the outside crowd erupts into riotous hysteria. Kobra and Lux use their illusionary tricks to convince the police and KKK members that Kobra is an angel of death who came to earth to cleanse the world of evil and tyranny. Among the magic tricks he uses include levitation, pyrotechnics, voice manipulation, and Hollywood windstorms. Kobra and Lux hope that their bluff will be enough to scare people into leaving the black protesters alone and releasing them from police custody.

***LAW & ORDER: SVU PARODY OF THE DAY***

In New York City’s war on crime, Olivia Benson with duct tape on her mouth is considered especially erotic. The detectives who are clearly masturbating in the background are part of an elite squad known as the Sexy Victims Unit. These are their stories. DONG, DONG!

Dale's Heart

***DALE’S HEART***

Over the past few days, my step-dad Dale has been having minor chest pains that were treated with aspirin up until now. Today my mom took him to the emergency room to see what the hell’s going on with his heart. Dale is still at the hospital, but Mom came home hours ago. She told me that the doctors and nurses ran several tests on him and they’re going to run a stress test tomorrow morning. All of the preliminary results are leaning towards angina, which means the blood vessels in Dale’s heart are too small to allow proper blood flow. If he passes his stress test, he could be home as early as tomorrow afternoon. If he doesn’t, then there’s a good chance he’ll need to have a stint put in his blood vessels.

Dale has a lot of factors working against his body whether it’s his 69-year-old age, his overweight body, his past with cigarette-smoking, or the fact that heart disease runs in his family. Despite all of this, I have a positive feeling he’s going to make it out of the hospital as good as new. His father had heart disease and he lived well into his 90’s. Dale’s fought through worse health problems in his life and he’s going to fight through this too. Ever since he married my mom in 2005, he’s been a huge reason why our family is living a peaceful life today. If there’s anything our family can do to help him through this tough obstacle, we’re going to do it.

That last part includes canceling a few trips he and my mom were going to take in June. A few days after my 32^nd birthday, the two of them were going to fly to Pennsylvania to visit with family. That’s not going to be possible if Dale’s heart problems are more serious than we imagined. They also have a concert they’re going to in Denver with their childhood friend Sandy. It’s Paul Simon’s final concert before he retires and I’d really hate for them to miss that. Poor Dale-Pie. Poor, poor Dale-Pie.

If you want to leave well-wishes for Dale, you can do it on Good Reads, Deviant Art, Blogger.com, and Face Book since that’s where I plan on leaving this blog. He needs all the love he can get right now. But like I said earlier, I have faith that he’ll pull through like he has against every other obstacle in his life. I know I use the word “warrior” a lot in my writing, but I believe it applies to Dale as well as the magicians and barbarians in Poison Tongue Tales and Occupy Wrestling. I’m Garrison Kelly and I’ll see you next time.

Real Life Projects

***REAL LIFE PROJECTS***

“Real life can get in the way of even the most brilliant creative projects.” I say this all the time to people online who need to take a sabbatical from the internet. Now it applies to me. Things are changing in the Haines-Temons-Stevens-Wilson household and as the family strongman I need to take part in those changes. I woke up at seven in the morning today to help my mom and Dale put together the yard sale. I went back to bed after my work was done and didn’t wake up until two in the afternoon. I also helped my parents put the yard sale stuff away and donate some of it to a local thrift store. There will be other loads of junk we donate on different days. For now, this will do. I felt so exhausted after today’s work that I don’t feel like doing anything creative at the moment.

As many of you know, I don’t handle exhaustion well. If I’m too tired, I won’t do anything creative for fear that my product will suck or that I’ll fall asleep in the middle of it. I owe a lot of this to the fact that I’m overweight. It’s easy to tell me that all I need to do is eat less and go to the gym more often. If things were that simple, I would have been a middleweight a long time ago. Fast food is addictive and car rides to the gym are not always available. I know it sounds like I’m making excuses and allowing my barriers to get the best of me, but if that’s the case, what would you rather I do: walk all the way from Port Orchard to Gig Harbor to the YMCA and then walk all the way back? It’d be a hell of a workout, but one that I would dread until that day I die.

The CPAP machine I was assigned to use by my doctor has been hit-and-miss when it comes to helping me get my energy back. Some nights I can wear the oxygen mask comfortably and wake up the next day ready to tackle anything and everything. Other nights the mask is either tight enough to leave red marks on my face or loose enough to blow oxygen into my eyes and cheeks. On those other nights, I don’t get a good night’s sleep and the whole idea of getting in bed is meaningless. I plan on emailing or calling my CPAP providers on Monday when they’re available to see if they can help me through this dilemma. I’m confident that they can. The lady who showed me how to use and clean the machine (Leah French) was friendly and supportive during the entire demonstration. She even gently told me to “Simmer down” when I was swearing at my failed attempts to unhinge the mask from its straps. Hehe!

The exhaustion isn’t going to end with today’s yard sale and thrift shop donations. For the next few months, real life will be calling my name and I’ll be there to answer that call. There are a few things going on in August that need my attention. My parents want to replace their carpeted flooring with vinyl since it’s easier to clean, so in order for that to happen, I have to help them move their living room furniture out of the way. As someone with autism, I’m more sensitive to pain and stress than everyone else, so doing all of that heavy lifting is going to take its toll. Despite this, if we’re going to keep having pets, this floor replacement needs to be done. My parents are Baby Boomers and can’t do as much as they used to in their younger years.

Dale especially can’t do much to help us with furniture shifting because he’s going to have a second surgery on his kidney in early August. Heavy lifting afterwards might rip his stitches and put him back in the hospital. Plus, he’s going to feel exhausted himself and won’t feel like doing his normal chores around the house. He’s been an awesome stepfather to me in the eleven years he’s lived with us, so it’s only right that I take over for him when he’s at his weakest. He can enjoy basketball and crime dramas in the easy chair until he recovers from his surgery.

On a more exciting, yet still exhausting note, I have two concerts that I plan on attending in August and one that I plan on attending in November. On August 11^th, Slipknot and Marilyn Manson will play at the White River Amphitheater with Of Mice and Men as their opening act. Hopefully, Corey Taylor can stay healthy while he’s entertaining all of us maggots. On August 21^st, the Pain in the Grass festival returns to that same venue and will be headlined by Disturbed. Other bands include, but are not limited to Breaking Benjamin, Alter Bridge, Saint Asonia, and Anthrax. And then in November I’m headed to the Tacoma Dome to see Five Finger Death Punch and Shinedown with Sixx AM and As Lions as their opening acts. How can something so tiring feel so good at the same time? Because I’m a diehard metal head, that’s why!

In addition to one-day vacations a.k.a. rock concerts, I’m also going to go on a week-long vacation to Hawaii on October 3^rd. I’ve only been to Hawaii one other time in my life and it was in the fall of 2010. The weather was beautiful, the beaches were beautiful, and the brown women were even more beautiful. Hey, it’s not racist if I actually like their race. You can thank Jerry Seinfeld for that joke. Going to Hawaii will be all about rest and relaxation. We’ll probably do one major activity during each day and spend the rest of the time hanging around. Low-key vacations are the best, especially for hardcore introverts like me.

Before Dale, Mom, Aunt Ruth and I all go to Hawaii, Mom and Dale are taking a six-day vacation in September to Utah to see all of their national parks. I’m choosing to stay home and babysit the animals while they’re away since national parks aren’t my cup of tea. It’s a bunch of trees and rocks: so what? I even wrote a short story for American Darkness about this called “Trees, Rocks, and Murder” (it used to be called “Forest Dump” before Marie and I agreed that it wasn’t the best choice for a title). The trees and rocks part of the title apply to the national park vacation, but not murder, thank goodness.

Going back to August for a moment, my therapist Rachel is having a barbecue at her house on August 13^th, which is exactly two days after the Slipknot X Marilyn Manson concert and eight days before the Disturbed concert, the latter of which Rachel and her husband will go to if it’s not raining that day (it’s an outdoor venue). She and I have lots in common when it comes to our love for badass heavy metal. She’s also been very helpful to me since 2003 when I first confessed to my family that I was hearing voices and feeling suicidal. Managing my schizophrenic attacks is much easier thanks to her, so seeing her at the barbecue will be lots of fun. Besides which, I never turn down an opportunity to eat a good barbecued meal.

I hope I didn’t leave any important details out when it comes to mapping out the next few months for me. There’s going to be a lot of work to be done and a lot of fun to be had. It’s the same kind of duality in life Gemini Syndrome preaches in their music. Speaking of which, I hope Gemini Syndrome will be at the Pain in the Grass festival, because that would be fucking awesome! Getting back on topic for a minute, having this many things to do may be so tiring that I will have to take a sabbatical from creative work and the internet in general. That means I might not compete every week at the WSS nor will I meet my deadlines for beta-reading Andy Peloquin and Marie Krepps’ manuscripts.

I’ll try to make this hectic schedule work, but I’m making no promises. Never fear, though, because no matter what happens in my life, I always make time to say hi and shoot the breeze with my friends and family, including my online ones. I may be gone for a little while, but never permanently. You guys have been so supportive of me and my author career over the years, so I’ll always miss you when I’m away. It’s not going to be like the Brave Little Toaster where I wait an entire generation to come back to my loved ones. In the same way that you all have been there for me, I will always be there for you. Thank you so much for listening to me.

***TELEVISION DIALOGUE FOR THE DAY***

JERRY: Hey, wait a minute; you have the Mark McEwen TV Guide.

WINONA: That’s Al Roker.

JERRY: Well, they’re both chubby weathermen. I get Dom Deluise and Paul Prudhoe mixed up too.

-Seinfeld-

Crazy Days

***CRAZY DAYS***

The past few days have been crazy for me and my family. They may have had an impact on my creative life, they may not have. Either way, if I don’t write this journal entry, I feel like it’ll be a wasted opportunity. Make of these three stories what you will.

***DALE***

This past Friday, my step-dad Dale was taken to the emergency room for flank pain. The hospital did all sorts of tests on him to find out why and it turns out he has a massive kidney stone. They’ve tried to flush it out of him, but the stone is too big to pass through, so earlier today, they had it surgically removed. As of now, I haven’t had an update as to how the surgery went, but I imagine Dale will just want to relax and take it easy when he’s finally discharged from the hospital. He can watch all the basketball and detective shows he wants with Sitka sprawled across his lap. I’m positive about his ability to recover from this since he’s had worse and survived that. I just hope he’ll be in a laughing mood when I do impressions of him and his funny dialogue during car trips.

***RAT INFESTATION***

Ever since the start of this year, it’s been the Haines-Temons-Stevens-Wilson family going to war with wild rats, who have invaded our home and came out of the woodwork whenever they damn well wanted. We’ve had rats in our kitchens and bathrooms mostly and over the last few months we’ve made progress with curtailing their population. And then a few nights ago as I was trying to sleep, I saw a giant rat running around in my room looking for hiding places. It ran behind my mini-fridge, behind my computer desk, underneath my TV stand, and across my bookcase. Naturally, I was so scared that I lost sleep over it. We tried to trap it last night, but the little fucker didn’t take the bait. I know what you’re thinking: how can an animal lover like me condone trapping wild rats? You should probably ask the same question to anybody living in medieval England during the black plague. Except you can’t, because they’re fucking dead!

***CHILD LURING***

Earlier today, there was an incident in which someone in a blue truck with an extended canopy drove around our neighborhood looking for little kids. A police report has already been filed, but the only information we’re missing is the driver’s license plate. I have a twelve-year-old niece named Reina who likes to walk to the convenience store and the school playground every once and a while and I’ll be damned if she becomes the next Jaycee Dugard. The truck shouldn’t be too hard to find, so I hope the police catch this asshole before he actually succeeds in kidnapping a little girl.

***CONCLUSION***

The thing to remember during these “crazy days” is that if you believe you can get through them, you definitely will. While these three stories are still in the process of resolving themselves, I’m confident that things will be back to normal in no time. I’ve got a creative task list a mile long and I’d love nothing more than to knock the items off that list like a wild motherfucker. We can do this, people. We can do this!

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Excuse me, sir, can I see your driver’s license? No, sir, I don’t need a beer and I don’t think you do either. Mr. Foxworthy, do you know why I pulled you over today? It concerns the vehicle you’re towing behind you. No, sir, it’s not against the law to tow a boat, but we do require you put it on a trailer. Can you ask your friends to get out of the boat please? I don’t give a damn if the fish are biting, I said ask your friends to get out of the boat. Hell, you dropped a skier about a mile back there.”

-Jeff Foxworthy doing an impression of a patrol cop pulling his dad over-

***POST-SCRIPT***

One of the ways you can get through a hard time in your life is by enjoying comedic moments whether they’re from Jeff Foxworthy, Bill Engvall, George Carlin, or any other source of giggles and chuckles. I hope that Jeff Foxworthy bit was to your guys’ liking. Keeping with the theme of positivity, I saw Ghostbusters last night at the Regal Cinemas and it was fucking awesome!

Mickey Mouse Is My Step-Father

The stability in my family hasn’t always been…well…stable. Like any other family, we’ve had ups and downs and all arounds. One night in 2010 when I fell asleep in my cozy beddy-bye, my family life had changed drastically.

In this dream, I woke up on a Hawaiian beach with gorgeous sunlight, fluffy sand, and cool blue water. What better way is there to start a dream? I smell something cooking in the kitchen and drag my heavy ass out bed to follow the scent like a bloodhound. Yes, there is indeed something cooking on the stove, but the person who normally does the cooking, my step-father Dale, is no longer there.

In a happy and bubbly voice, my mom turns to me and says, “Garrison, meet your new step-father Mickey!” Mickey? Who’s Mickey? Mickey Rooney? Mickey Rourke? Mickey Keegan? No, my friends. The Mickey in question was none other than…Mickey Mouse.

That’s right, ladies and gentleman. My loving and supportive mother divorced Dale without telling me and married a fucking cartoon character. This same cartoon character looked at me with his happy facial expression and said, “Good morning, bucko! Would you like some Mickey Mouse pancakes? You can’t start the morning without a hearty breakfast.”

At this point, I didn’t know whether to face-palm or cry. Maybe I could have done both. Mickey Mouse was going to be my step-father for all eternity (or at least until the dream was over). That meant he was in charge of driving me when I needed transportation (probably in a wind-up car), giving me girl advice (which would probably be “Cheer up, bucko, and smile!”), and just being there for me when I’m sad (which means putting mouse ears on me when I’m not looking).

Mickey Mouse is an adorable character, but he’s not my father, blood or otherwise. He can’t do all the things that Dale does. He can’t even do the things that my blood father can do and my blood father lives out in the middle of nowhere. But wait a minute, why am I complaining about my parents when I’m a full grown adult? Oh yeah, that’s right, because I’m a Generation Y member and being one requires unemployment in a ravaged economy.

Perhaps this is my subconscious telling me that it’s time to put myself out to the world and make my own destiny. I very well could live with a Mickey Mouse-like figure as an authoritative voice in my life. I’m always living by the mantra of “raging against the machine”, so maybe this is my subconscious telling me to put my money where my mouth is.

I would, but money isn’t the taste I need right now. I have all the money I’ll ever need. It’s life in general that I need a savory taste of. I have friends and family that I can go to, but I need more interaction with them than I already have.

If I stay lonely for too long, Mickey Mouse is always there to comfort me with his gloved mousy hand. I’m being forced to choose between the taste of Mickey Mouse pancakes with syrup and the taste of fresh air that being enclosed in my prison cell, I mean, room can’t provide.

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“Is all the world jails and churches?”

-Rage Against the Machine rapping “Vietnow”-