A Rock To Tie A String Around

It’s Earth Day Weekend People, time to not water your lawns and compost your vegetable waste. As an author who attempts to incorporate environmental issues into fiction – it makes me think. I live in a world of ‘what if’s’ and in this world, it’s impossible to not freak myself out about every environmental disaster that’s happened in the last 100 years. I see any and all environmental breakdowns as a chance for a horrifying plot.

So, I thought, in honor of Earth Day, I’d let you in on my thinking process a little – and scare you a little with the scary ‘what if’s’ and ‘what has already happened’ around us.

1. The 1952 London Smog Disaster: Yep, a smog disaster which lasted from December 1952 until March 1953. A horrible combination of pollution, high moisture and light winds created the perfect storm for a cloud of English Smog that killed nearly 12,000 people – mainly children, elderly and infirmed.

At times the visibility was limited to a few meters in front of the face (British for ‘can’t see shit’) and on December 8th and 9th peaked a death toll of nearly 900 deaths per day. The smog was thick enough to actually infiltrate businesses and buildings, closing down industry at its height.

http://www.lenntech.com/environmental-disasters.htm#4._The_1952_London_smog_disaster

Now, monsters? No problem – I see tons of horrible with this, I see the potential plot line of all government or police control disappearing and civilization disappearing into the hands of the masses – Jose Saramago horror style. After all, mankind is much scarier than any monster out there. I could also see a good, old-fashioned brain eater scare in that scenario, the undead, wandering in the fog….searching for fresh brains…. I also see the potential for serial killers, psychotics….basically human monsters finding solace in the smog, under the cloak of darkness…..well, you know….

2. Chernobyl: Nuclear Power Plant Explosion

On April 26, 1986, the Chernobyl Power Plant Reactor #4 exploded, killing 31 straight out. Two days later 10,000 times the normal level of Cesium was polluting the atmosphere, finally causing the Moscow officials to be concerned. One day after that they evacuated the area surrounding Chernobyl, by May 2nd, the cloud of radiation had reached The Netherlands – causing the consumption of fresh fruit and vegetables to be banned for health reasons.

Yikes right? The initial evacuation zone has been a permanent ghost town; the animals still test at astronomically high radiation rates, and the amusement park rides that were never used still hang in space, collecting cesium and dust.

As far as monsters go – I have to say zombies, but I would also argue Island of Dr. Moreau-esque mutants. I can definitely see a series of intelligent, yet genetically fucked up deer/rats/dogs ravaging the forest, moving ever closer to a major city. Sure, you’d have to know a bit about Russian language/culture to write that story – bu think it’d be worth it. Yes?

2. Centralia, Pennsylvania: Ever Played Silent Hill?

Yep, Centralia is the disputed inspiration for the Silent Hill game and subsequent movie, although I’d argue that the real thing is much scarier.

In 1962, a trash-burning pit lit an underground coal reserve and created an underground inferno that King James would be envious of. The fire has been burning for forty-eight years now, and no sign of going out. At first, the residents of Centralia were reportedly happy about the warmer climate, however, the carbon monoxide levels in the early 1980’s reached life threatening levels and sink holes caused by noxious gas pits threatened to swallow more than a few neighborhood kids. Most of the residents accepted the fact that their houses had been condemned and took the federal government grants that allowed them to abandon their houses and relocate elsewhere. A few diehards stayed put and said toxic gas is okay with them, it’s the evil government that needs to keep it’s nose out of their business.

Monsters? Definitely the wing nuts that stayed behind. I can only imagine the health effects that huge amounts of carbon monoxide would have on the brain after a few decades, plus the already zealoutous mindset that would cause you to not only second guess the government health officials but also ALL of your neighbors and the giant man-eating sink-holes in your back-yard.

Please, someone do the Silent Hill story justice. The movie was okay, I liked it. But there’s just so much more potential out there. You can make this seriously scary, just imagine a tea-bagger caught in an ever-burning incarnation of Hell on earth with a carbon monoxide flooded brain – in short think Michelle Bachmann.

Just kidding…sort of.

Happy Earth Day Everyone, and remember, with every holiday comes a writing potential, don’t let the monsters pass you by.

I recently turned thirty-four, not exactly old….but a little too old to call myself young. I think it officially lands me in my in middle thirties, and edges me out of the still youthful early thirties category

There are certain things that I just didn’t ‘get’ until I got into my thirties; it wasn’t right on the dot of thirty, but as I edged toward my present age – there are just certain things that suddenly began to make sense where no sense was seen before.

Here’s a short list:

1. ‘Landslide’ by the incomparable Stevie Nicks: I always liked it, I thought it was pretty. If I had ever had any musical talent, I probably would have played it on my guitar in my twenties. But the concept that you build your adult life around a person, and make them not just a partner but also a part of you was lost on me until rather recently. Removing me from my husband would be like amputating the left side of my body.

I don’t mean that in a co-dependent kind of way; rather in the sense that we’re a part of one another’s DNA now, we’ve been a couple pushing fourteen years, my adult life has been shaped by him. He’s seen me in unimaginably ugly circumstances and I would hope equally lovely ones….at least I hope….

But I’ve found recently that I’m offended by the twenty-something buskers strumming away on their guitars and singing Landslide on street corners or American Idol. They can’t possibly get it, especially the single ones. Sing a Miley Cyrus song instead young people; leave us old farts to wallow with our antique Stevie Nicks’ tapes.

2. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald: Ever since my thirtieth birthday, I have toasted every birthday with possibly the best line from American Literature in the history of everything: “I’m thirty, five years too old to lie to myself and call it honor.” Seriously, as a writer can you ever hope to write something that great?

I read it in high school, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t for a class; I was a nerd like that. I read it in college for a literature class. I read it right before I had to teach it for my Student Teaching at East High School in Denver, Colorado. I never really got it until this past year or so.

There’s something so devastatingly tragic about the loss of potential and the idea that Gatsby and Daisy will never, ever be together – and what’s more – they shouldn’t be together, that she’s happy with Tom and she should stay married to him. I think I realized in my thirties that Daisy should anchor her life to Tom and her daughter and stop daydreaming about Jay Gatsby, and that realization made pretty much all my literary romantic dreams tank and then grow up by about twenty years.

Conversly, I think The Great Gatsby is also about how badly we can fuck up our lives in our twenties just by being shortsighted and stupid. Daisy telling Jay Gatsby ‘Rich girls don’t marry poor boys’ ruined his entire life, and hers. She never ended up with who could have been her one, true love and Gatsby spent his whole life trying to live up to her snobbish accusations of inadequacy.

The Great Gatsby is really about the idea that love – real, true, love isn’t about a handsome guy you knew when you were twenty. It’s about the guy who carried you across the grass so your feet wouldn’t get wet in your thirties.

3. Risotto: It’s a rice, it’s a main dish, it’s a setting for your finely chopped cilantro and blue cheese crumbles….but up until recently it was a boring substitute for food that I never would have ordered in a restaurant.

Then I made it. You can thank Gordon Ramsey for this one. You can only watch Hell’s Kitchen so much until you get curious about risotto. How can it go so wrong? How can it inspire someone to throw it against the back wall of a kitchen in a rage?

Well, I get it now. Mostly because when it’s cooked right, it’s freakin’ delicious. But, in order to get it right, you have to be patient and keep stirring, and ever so delicately adding the right spices and veggies. In my twenties, I would have hurled the saucepan and the risotto into the trash in the first ten minutes.

Not now. If given the chance, I will stand there for hours, perfectly the just right creamy yet not mushy risotto consistency. This might also be a sign of insanity.

The real idea behind risotto is that the energy you put into your food is what you get out of it. So it might take me a little while to make the ideal risotto dish, but at the end of the process, I know that I breathed life into a previously shriveled and dry grain of nothing. Ten years ago, my idea of cooking was ordering Chinese. Now, I will gladly marinate, chop and steam in the pursuit of a good meal.

There’s a lot more, but at the risk of writing the world’s longest blog, I’ll leave you with these three. Tell me, what did you come to appreciate over the years?

I’ve had to have a serous sit down with myself about my closet lately. I wouldn’t consider myself a hoarder in the freaky A&E sense, but more of an optimist with no sense of fashion. I tried everything on and created a huge pile of ‘never gonna fit again, deal with it’ and ‘kinda fits but probably shouldn’t’ and ‘fits but belongs in the 1990’s’. I was left with about five items of clothing.

But then, I came to the power suit. My mom bought me the power suit a few years back, I don’t remember why. I’ve never had an office job in the traditional sense, and teaching doesn’t exactly require me to be that dressed up. I wore it to a couple of job interviews back in the day, hung it up and forgot about it.

Then I had a baby, and nothing fit anymore. An occasion came up for which the power suit would have been appropriate and I was able to fit it over my chubby little knees, and that was it. So sad.

But then, the other day, there it was, and I thought ‘maybe I should just throw it on the Goodwill pile now, what’s the freakin’ point?’ But a little voice stopped me, usually this little voice is there purely for the sake of keeping me humble, it says things like ‘you’re a good singer…sure you are, go ahead and sing out loud with the windows rolled down, the neighbors will appreciate it.” They don’t. It’s that same voice that’s convinced me that I can dance, and that I have rhythm. I don’t.

Lately, I’ve been trying to ignore that voice, but there it was again: ‘try it on, you never know….it’ll be fine.’ So I did, and it was. Fine that is, in fact, better than fine. The power suit fit for the first time in three years. I know what you’re thinking, that maybe it’s a little outdated and should have been thrown into pile #3. You might be right, but my vanity wouldn’t let me.

Not Me, I Use A Stuntperson For All My Action Sequences

I’ve worn the power suit to school a couple of times, and taken a considerable amount of shit for it. I think it’s worth it, which leads me to the real purpose for this blog:

Vanity.

Yes, people, I’m a vain little twerp sometimes, and the power suit is a shining example of that. I’m surprised I don’t sleep in the power suit; I’m just so giddy that it fits again. People at school should be lucky I didn’t try on my old prom dress the other night; they’d see me wearing that everyday. They should count their blessings that the club going hoochy outfit that I bought for a night out back in my early 20’s got thrown into pile #2, else they’d be seeing me in that little number.

Not My Acutal Prom Dress - Mine Was in Aqua, Much More Awesome

Yep, vanity. The power suit is just the start of it really. I am the reason why there should never be publicly funded higher education in California again. I know that I would just abuse the bejessus out of that system and stay in college for the rest of my natural life. Do I need ten BA’s? Do I need a Master’s Degree in Accounting? No. Do I want them so I can wallpaper a room in my house with my huge brain? Yes, oh yes I do.

It’s the reason I keep trying out for Jeopardy – do I feel like I would use the winnings to help a charity or donate the cash to PBS? No. If I ever won Jeopardy, I would spend all my winnings on beer and t-shirts with my face on them that say:

‘I won on Jeopardy. HA!’

Small chance of that happening though – I’ve taken the online test about ten times, and failed it miserably about ten times. Although one of those tests was taken under the influence of box wine, I don’t think that one should count.

Part of me knows that if I were to ever get on the show, I would totally freeze. They would probably have to come over and check my buzzer to make sure it was working, as I would not have actually buzzed in to answer a question for the entire half-hour.

Oh well. If you want a t-shirt, let me know. If and when I have an occasion to get them made, I’ll be itching for as many people as possible to wear them.