Grotesque and Others

Yes, it's Sunday, so of course it was a big ol' geocaching day. And quite a nice one, all around. Today's incarnation of the No-Dead-Weight Irregulars consisted of Almost-But-Not-Quite-Old Cupdaisy (a.k.a. Debbie), Old Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott), Old Rob (a.k.a. Old Rob), and Old Rodan (as the Beaver). Today's destination: Durham, NC, mostly around the Duke University campus. Our primary target was an Adventure Lab cache called "Grotesque" (GC928YM), which led us to several locations featuring sculptures, friezes, and such art around the heart of the campus. These were fun, and the bonus cache container turned out to be cute (see the thoughtful chap at left).

One neat little cache took us to the edge of a marsh, where we also found a wooden walkway leading a hundred feet or so into it. Sadly, the walkway had seen better days and appeared on the verge of collapse. Still, I made my way out to the far end, figuring that if it gave way, the worst that would happen is that I would get wet (unless there were piranha fish in the marsh, and I guess that would have been worse than getting wet). But the planks held, I took a few pics, and Cupdaisy found the cache. Interestingly, from there, we found another cache not too far away, and on our way back, we saw that the walkway had now been chained off. I rather suspect someone at the little preserve saw me exploring and decided to play things safe (liability issues, perhaps). Anyway, glad I managed to see the sights from there when I did.

Lean just a little farther, Cupdaisy!
Just a little farther....

If I counted properly, we snagged a total of 18 caches today. Well, I did personally, at least. We stopped for a handful I had already found but that the other members of the team still needed. For lunch, we checked out a little joint called Dain's Place on Ninth St., not too far from the University. Good eats, though it reminded me of why sports bars are intolerable places to be on game days. My god, the volume of shrieking madness around us damn near shattered my eardrums. Still, it was all great fun — at least until we hit the road for home. Traffic was a monster, far worse than I've seen after a Thanksgiving weekend... well... ever, I'm pretty sure. Just fits in with my motto: There are too many motherfucking people. Lord have mercy, they make me tired. Fortunately, I know some back roads. Unfortunately, they fuckers had choked the back roads too. Fortunately, I know some back BACK roads. Those, at least, were passable.

And good lord... what happened to the long weekend? We just got off work a few minutes ago, and now it's four freaking days later. Time flies, I reckon, whether you're having fun or not. Fortunately, this go-round, it was mostly fun. Well, tolerable, anyway.

I managed to fit in some much-needed writing yesterday, although it wasn't quite as much as I'd hoped. This week looks good for making forward progress on that count, at least.

Stop fucking around, all right? Thx.

Grotesque! Old Rodan, Old Rob, Almost-But-Not-Quite-Old Cupdaisy, Old Diefenbaker

Out on the ricketty walkway over the marsh

Looking back from the end of the walkway

A few minutes later: well, dang if it hasn't been closed off!

Angel’s Envy, Turkey Day, Christmas Trees, and Cinderella

I don't always drink Angel’s Envy, but when I do, it’s
because some awesome friends are awesome.

For Ms. B. and me, the Thanksgiving weekend kicked off on Wednesday afternoon, as work let out at lunchtime. This worked out great for us because we had company — friends Stephen Provost & Samaire Wynne — coming over for drinks and dinner early in the evening. We ended up having a lovely visit, with Marco’s Pizza and some excellent Italian wine on the menu. To top things off, they brought over a bottle of Angel’s Envy bourbon, which turned out to be delightful. A fine spirit, it is, with silky undertones and a long finish that gets mellower and mellower. I loved it. And a thousand thanks to Stephen & Samaire. Awesome friends indeed!

On Thursday — Thanksgiving Day — morning, Brugger and I rose pretty early and headed out to Browns Summit, the headquarters of friends Tom (a.k.a. Skyhawk63) & Linda (a.k.a. Punkins19) for a geocaching breakfast event. Tom served homemade biscuits with lots of fixings, not to mention coffee aplenty. A decent-size crowd showed up, and that really got the day off to a perfect start.

From there, Ms. B. and I headed back home and started prepping the feast. I had gotten us a big ol’ turkey breast, which I seasoned and got cooking straightaway. We smashed some potatoes, cooked up some gravy, Brugger made a batch of savory mushroom & gruyere tarts, and we topped that off with large green salads. I was a little afeared I might have overcooked the dead bird when I checked the meat thermometer, but no... it was delicious and done just right — as was everything. As far as Thanksgiving Day dinners go, this one could hardly have been better (although, at the end of it, I was too full to partake of the cheesecake we had for afters; I’ll enjoy that later).

I had decided a while back, with Ms. B.’s blessing, that I would spend Thanksgiving night as well as some extra time at Pleasant Hill, the old homestead. So, after dinner settled a bit, I hit the road and headed first to Oak Ridge, just northwest of Greensboro, to snag a newish geocache. Upon giving the map a look, I noticed there was another cache over in Walnut Cove, a few miles farther northwest. So, I decided to go check that one out as well. I was pleased to see it was located at a graveyard, since graveyard caches are typically among my favorite. It turned out to be a fun cache indeed. That little side trip done, I continued on to Martinsville.

Many of my readers no doubt know that, against every conceivable expectation, I am the last of the family I grew up with. I lost my dad to complications from diabetes two decades ago. Last year, I lost my mom to COVID-19. Earlier this year, my younger brother passed away of leukemia. Now and again, these losses still overwhelm me. While my family was alive, Christmas was a momentous holiday. Mom always loved having a Christmas tree, and she collected a prodigious number of ornaments over her lifetime, most having some special significance. For those several years that she was debilitated with dementia, I kept that tree going up every Christmas. And now that she is gone... that they’re all gone... I treasure putting up the tree. So, on this night, at the house where I grew up... the place my mom loved most... I put up the tree and decorated it. An emotionally tough yet heartwarming undertaking.  I did this to honor my family that was. I imagine I will do this for as long as I physically can.

Kimberly and I will spend our holidays celebrating the family that is. My daughter, Allison, is remote, but close in heart, I know. So this is how I’m starting my Christmas season. It does hurt, but there is also a wonderful refuge in so many memories of perfect times — particularly during the holiday season — with my old family.

That done — and you can roll your eyes all you want to — for some reason, I felt drawn to put on the 1965 Rodgers & Hammerstein production of Cinderella, starring Lesley Ann Warren and Stuart Damon. I hadn’t seen it, or even really thought about it, since I was a kid. Something about last night’s onslaught of childhood memories, I suppose. Anyway, I went ahead and watched it on YouTube. Was it any good? Well, I dunno; it was pretty much Cinderella as we all know the story. Since I still have something of a soft spot for old musicals, I found a couple of the songs pretty good. A handful of lines made me crack a smile. So I guess you could say I enjoyed it. I am certain it is not going into the regular holiday video rotation.

This morning, I found breakfast at The Ground Floor, a relatively new coffee shop uptown, and then headed out on a geocache maintenance run, first to Philpott Dam, then to a couple around Martinsville. The hiking did me a world of good. On the way back, I grabbed a nice lunch at Hugo’s, also uptown. And this afternoon, now I’ve gotten this blog composed, I have a bunch of writing to do for upcoming projects. And thus I shall.

I’ll be back.

Philpott Dam

Out of the Park and Others

This past Sunday’s geocaching outing of the No-Dead Weight Irregulars — consisting of Old Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott), not-quite-so-old Fishdownthestair (a.k.a. Natalie), and the Old Dude as the Beaver — took us back to Chapel Hill, where we sought one of our favorite varieties of geocache: one hidden in the deep, dark underground. This one is called "Out of the Park" (GC55DEF), located just off the UNC campus, in the Coker Pinetum, along Meeting of the Waters Creek. There are a couple of nice trails here, as well as what turned out to be a most colorful pathway into the depths of the earth.

The portal lies in a deep valley just off the nature trail, where a massive tree has fallen in the relatively recent past, all but obscuring the entrance from view. Getting down to it and back up from it are more difficult than negotiating the tunnel itself. To prevent tumbling into the chasm, Ms. Natalie made the mistake of grabbing a thorn-studded tree (which Scott informed us is called "The Devil's Walking Stick"), which resulted in considerable bleeding and swearing. Fortunately, no amputations were necessary. A rusty steel cable goes across the culvert, and I made the mistake of grabbing it on my way down. Unbeknownst to me, the section of cable was splintered sufficiently to bite my hand pretty deeply, which resulted in considerable bleeding and swearing. Fortunately, no amputations were necessary. A surprisingly large volume of water was gushing from the culvert's mouth, given there's been no rain to speak of in recent days. But we were all able to enter the darkness without mishap.

Apparently, this particular culvert has attracted graffiti artists of every stripe, and for almost the entire length of our journey into darkness — just under half a mile, by our calculations — the tunnel walls were decorated with intricate images, a variety of slogans, and the occasional dire warning that hell lay just ahead.

We hadn't gone but so far when Scott and I heard a holler, and we turned just in time to see Ms. Natalie take a quick seat in the chilly, rushing water. Yeah, it was pretty slick in there. Fortunately, her pride suffered more bruising than her butt, and from there, we proceeded without mishap — well, except for my flashlight going dead. I knew I should have brought that extra light along! Happily, Scott carried a spare, and he handed it over to me, if somewhat grudgingly. We pressed on and on, and — finally — our flashlight beams fell on an object that appeared slightly out of place in the deep, dark underground.

Indeed, it was the cache.

Once we had signed the log, taken a few pics, and re-secured the container, we made our about-face and hoofed it back toward the portal. To my chagrin, Scott's spare light also began to fade, so we made haste for those last few hundred feet. By the time we again emerged into daylight, this second light had also bitten the dust. But we had our smiley, and — happily — there were a couple of more caches along the nature trail, which proved a lot of fun to hunt. The woods here are gorgeous, and just enough fall color remaine to make the trip visually memorable.

We found lunch at a lovely little place called Four Corners on Franklin Street, where I availed myself to what was surely the largest half rack of ribs I've ever been served. And they were freakin' delicious.

On our way back to Greensboro, we stopped off in Hillsborough to grab a trio of hides, one along the old Occoneechee Speedway Trail, where we've hunted caches several times in the past. It's a lovely place, the oval racetrack having long ago been swallowed by forest but converted to a hiking trail.

All in all, it proved a wonderful day to add to our caching totals. Definitely a day for quality over quantity, which, for me, is always more than fine.

Cache on.

Along the Coker Pinetum Trails: A good place not to lose one's footing

So far, so good.

Oh, shit, Scott's got a camera. "No, dear, I didn't do anything foolish. Why do you ask?"

Foliage at Last

Fall color took its sweet time arriving this year, but since it finally has, the colors have actually been gorgeous. We're pretty much past the prime here, but some pockets of lush, brilliant hues remain out there. Yesterday after work, I left for the old homestead in Martinsville, but I decided to stop off at a nearby trail to scope it out for a possible geocache hide. It was nice to discover the little pond back there surrounded by colorful trees. It was well on its way to getting dark while I was back there, so I brightened up the color a little in Google Photos — but the hues themselves are very true to what my eyes actually saw.

Once ensconced at Pleasant Hill, I made some dinner — brisket burgers, which were delicious — and set to work on some editing for my upcoming short fiction collection. I ended up getting sidetracked in something resembling a debate on Facebook about Kenosha shooter Kyle Rittenhouse being acquitted on murder charges, but fortunately, it didn't devolve into a shouting match. Still, my brief post expressing frustration with the outcome of the trial was not intended to be an invitation for dissent. But, Facebook being Facebook, I reckon that was inevitable, and while it occupied some time, it could have been worse. I know I should know better, but sometimes, one needs to vent.

Anyway, on the way home this afternoon, I stopped and found a newish cache and maintained one of my own. And now it is time for a Campari spritz.

From Mountaintop Experience to Locked Up

It was a tad chilly this weekend but otherwise perfect for geocaching. Friday, as is my custom, I spent a pleasant evening at the old homestead in Martinsville, where I had some Carolina Reaper wings from Coach's Neighborhood Grill, which were passable; not as hot as all that, but fairly tasty. I spent some time digging through the old vaults trying to find a copy of Japanese Giants #1, which took some work, but mission finally acomplished. Thus, for the evening's entertainment, I made popcorn and watched Destroy All Monsters, since it was the feature movie covered in that issue of JG.

Saturday morning, after some grocery shopping, I headed out on the back roads, bound for the northern reaches of Danville. There was a cache at the site of a music festival from a couple of months ago — “Mountaintop Experience” (GC9G0TX) — which took me through some of the most brilliant fall foliage I’ve seen this season. The cache itself proved fun enough (though it wasn’t really on a mountaintop), and I went after another one nearby in Danville proper, which put me close to Tokyo Grill. I always enjoy their sushi, and I hadn’t visited since before the beginning of the pandemic, so I stopped there for lunch. I was not at all disappointed.

Odd folk hanging out at the library
in Chapel Hill

Danville mission complete, I hit the highway, bound for home in Greensboro. After some compiling and editing for a new short fiction collection (details on this will eventually follow), Brugger and I headed over to Kernersville, to Casa di Nelson, where we dined and wined with friends Terry & Beth and Joe & Suzy. A lovely evening that ran quite late.

This morning — after a not very restful night, due to freaking old man physical issues — I joined forces with the No-Dead-Weight Irregulars (Rob and Scott) and hauled us over to Chapel Hill for Sunday geocaching. Our primary targets were a trio of Adventure Lab caches: “Explore More at Pritchard Park,” “Carolina Walking Tour,” and “Chapel Hill Art Walk”; the first took us around the nice nature trails at the library, while the latter two offered scenic tours of the UNC campus. Again, the fall colors here were pretty much at their peak, so it was really quite a lovely time of it. After the lab caches, we picked up a nice little hide called “Locked Up” (GC8G3G6) at the nearby arboretum.

We finished our caching day with a somewhat late lunch at Top of the Hill Restaurant & Brewery, which is something of an old Chapel Hill institution. It’s been ages since I’ve been there, mainly because the place is typically so crowded it’s the very devil to get inside. Today, though, the crowd wasn’t bad, and the wait wasn’t long. The food and brew hit the spot after four-plus miles of hoofing it today.

Back in Greensboro again, and tomorrow begins another standard work week. Thanksgiving is coming up, though, and I must say I’m looking forward to it.

Peace out.

Il Triello: Il Buono, Il Brutto, Il Cattivo

Triceratops footprint in stone along the library's nature trail

Diefenbaker toots his own horn on the Chapel Hill art walk.

Our Shadowed Past and Other Dark Doodads

In the weeks prior to our leaving for Europe, I did some design and layout work on a book project for friend Bob Issel, who has overseen countless Dark Shadows fan gatherings for the past three-plus decades. Our Shadowed Past is a collection of essays and photographs — over 300 pages of them — from over a hundred longtime Dark Shadows fans, including me. A dozen or so fans who regularly hung out at the ABC studio in New York City where Dark Shadows was produced offer their entertaining recollections, and a few of the show's original cast members — including Lara Parker, Kathryn Leigh Scott, Sharon Smythe, James Storm, and Marie Wallace — provide unique perspectives on their Dark Shadows days as well. To receive ordering information, contact Bob Issel at Bobusbas59@gmail.com. The cost is $27.00 plus postage.

It's been a somewhat hectic week since our return from the continent. We had a new storage shed built to replace our ancient, damn-near-collapsed shed, though, for the moment, the original one is still out there. Thus, the epithet "Two Sheds," which friend and fellow Japanese Giants Guy Ed Godziszewki had bestowed upon me (a la Monty Python) a great many years ago does today hold true. Prior to the new shed's installation, friend Terry and I put in a couple of afternoons' work setting up stone columns to level the lot. Shed is now complete, and there are even a few things already concealed inside it. (Did I say bodies? I didn't mean to say bodies.)

I spent a portion of this weekend in Martinsville, and while trying to find some material for the interview I did for Brett Homenick (DOCUMENTING GIANTS FROM JAPAN! Stephen Mark Rainey on Creating the Celebrated Fanzine Japanese Giants!) I happened upon a couple of old reports I wrote in junior high school about Japan and World War II. I even illustrated them (not necessarily well.) Those were kind of fun to look back on.

Last night, Ms. B. and I went to No Time to Die, the latest 007 film. I generally liked it, though from Skyfall on, I've had a hard time getting on board with the direction the series has taken. I may give it the old review treatment at some point, if I can find the time. That won't be very soon. We also found a fantastic dinner at Lindley Park Filling Station, which we haven't visited in ages — mostly because the little place is usually too crowded to get in. We managed it last night, though, and the ghost pepper burger I had was heavenly.

Today was a regular Sunday geocaching day. Old Rob, Old Scott, and I headed down Salisbury way to go after a bunch of newer hides in nearby Dan Nicholas Park. We got in some serious hiking, found a dozen traditional caches as well as an Adventure Lab cache, and had lunch at The Smoke Pit, which is my favorite BBQ restaurant anywhere.

I don't know that the pace will slow this coming week. We shall see.

Something from Area 51 in the woods at Dan Nicholas Park?

National Cemetery in Salisbury, where we found a nice Adventure Lab cache

Vantage Point Interviews Talks Monsters with the Old Dude

“I believe I was eight years old the night that Godzilla - King of the Monsters came on TV while my parents were out...

...and just as Godzilla ended, I heard what sounded like thunder, and the house started shaking. It was the first earth tremor to hit Martinsville in something like 150 years.”

Brett Homenick’s Vantage Point Interviews blog features a conversation with me about my lifelong adventures with Godzilla, kith and kin. It was fun to do. Give it a look here:

DOCUMENTING GIANTS FROM JAPAN! Stephen Mark Rainey on Creating the Celebrated Fanzine Japanese Giants!

The Old World or Bust! (Part 5)

Friday, October 29, 2021: Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen

The Swiss Alps view from 35,000 feet

Up at 'em early, it was. Our flight out of Venice wasn't until 2:40 in the afternoon, but we had a couple of hours' drive to get there, plus we needed plenty of time to get gas, return the rental car, and get through security at the airport. Things went along pretty much on schedule, and our flight out to Frankfort, where we'd make our connection to IAD (Dulles Washington), on Lufthansa, proceeded painlessly.

We flew business class all the way this time, and damn, was it ever worth it. No more numb behinds and legs cramped to the point of risking blood clots. Not cheap, to be sure, but from here on out, we're just going to have to drop the cash on any future international travel we might undertake.

My favorite part of our relatively short first hop was having a window seat and catching some fantastic views of the Alps. Seeing Innsbruck, Austria, from above was stunning, and Ms. B. and I have decided we might want to pay it a future visit. As it stands, my snow-skiing skills are rustier than my golf....

The long United Airlines flight from Frankfurt to IAD was the most comfortable I've ever experienced. I killed a couple of hours watching Shin Godzilla, which I enjoyed more than I had the couple of times I'd seen it previously. The food wasn't bad, and it was nice having drinks offered regularly. I didn't really sleep, but I was able to stretch out and relax for a decent spell.

That's Innsbruck, Austria down there.

Heading into Frankfurt

Things didn't go as well once we reached IAD. Once we finally disembarked, got through customs, and retrieved and re-checked our luggage (which Lufthansa had done for us on our trip over), we availed ourselves to the nice business-class lounge for a spot of refreshment. Our United flight to Charlotte wasn't anything to brag on, but at least the seats weren't bad. Once we left the gate, planes were stacked up for miles on the taxiways — even as late evening as it was. Eventually, though, we got airborne. There was quite a lot of turbulence on this side of the Atlantic, as the weather has been rough for several days over here. Then, once we landed, we were held up at the gate for quite a long while, as they did not have a crew to attend to the jetway. By the time our feet hit the ground again, we were exhausted and then some.

We had an hour and a half drive in Terry's truck back to Kernersville, where we finally transferred all our earthly belongings to Kim's car. Which. Promptly. Refused. To. Start.

Dead battery, at 3:00 a.m.

Oy vey.

Fortunately, Terry had jumper cables on hand, jumped the car, and Kim and I arrived at our doorstep at 3:45 EDT on Saturday morning.

And so concluded another wonderful, memorable excursion to the far side of the pond. Apart from suffering that spell of food poisoning (and constantly battling Il Zanzur at Ca' Driano), I have nothing but great memories of these past two and a half weeks. Our company was stellar — as we knew it would be — and our experiences ran the gamut from the most exciting to the most relaxing possible. Almost to the last, the individuals we dealt with in both France and Italy were kind and as accommodating as they could be to us foreigners whose grasp of their languages barely qualified as rudimentary. We all brought different experiences back home with us, and I hope my companions' memories of this event will be as exhilarating as mine.

And may we travel together again in the not-so-distant future.

Godspeed to you all.

A happy homecoming!

Go to "The Old World or Bust!" (Part 1) here.

Go to "The Old World or Bust!" (Part 2) here.

Go to "The Old World or Bust!" (Part 3) here.

Go to "The Old World or Bust!" (Part 4) here.