But Enough About Me: Riverside Wildlife

The place I work in Riverside, California is a business park/light industrial area that’s only a couple of blocks from some hills and some undeveloped land. I like to walk along the dirt utility roads there on my lunch breaks. I take my MP3 player and listen to podcasts like Escape Pod and Welcome to Night Vale. Despite all the human activity and a fair amount of truck and train traffic in the area, I see wildlife on a pretty regular basis, especially in the winter and spring when it’s not insanely hot out.

Last winter, a herd of wild burros moved into the area for a few weeks, attacted by the green grass that came with the rain.

 

They want to know two things about you: 1. Are you a threat? 2. If not, did you bring food?

 

U haz snax?

Stop wastin' my time

Rabbits and ground squirrels are plentiful any time of year. I saw this cute baby bunny a couple years ago.

 

 

Aww

 

There are also birds, flowers and reptiles.

Mourning dove

I think this is a finch

Zoom lens says... Not a rattlesnake!

I am the Lizard King! I can do anything!

You can find pretty things in a ditch sometimes

The coolest animal by far was the bobcat that hung around for a week or two last month. I'd seen it or one of its relatives the year before, but I got some good pictures this year.

The first time I saw him this year, he climbed out of a drainage pipe and strode past me like it was no big thing.

The next day, he was chilling in the shade of a warehouse

The last day I saw him, he was dozing in the bushes next to the sidewalk. I was pretty surprised to see him that close and was very glad not to be a ground squirrel.

He was entirely unconcerned by my presence...

...and let me take several pictures...

...before deciding it was time to go.

He had some trouble remembering where he parked...

...and ended up walking home.

 

But Enough About Me: So It Turns Out I went to High School with this One Guy Who’s Famous

I was reading one of my nerd blogs a couple weeks ago and I stumbled across a name I recognized. A kid I knew in high school. Turns out he’s famous and stuff. Described as the greatest lyricist of his generation.

Meaning my generation, I guess.

Who knew?

I hadn’t read any of his books or heard many of his songs, so there’s not much point in saying who he is. Though, by odd coincidence the episode of Welcome to Night Vale I listened to that week featured the new song by his band as its musical interlude. I can just hear the voice of Night Vale’s Cecil Baldwin: “A name you weren’t expecting to read. A face you weren’t expecting to remember. Welcome to Night Vale.”

I found myself racking my brain for everything I could remember about him and came up with some funny random stuff. He was a couple years younger than me, so that meant our paths crossed in my junior or senior year. He was in the same creative writing class with me at least once and was part of my social clique.

(Said clique was a Venn diagram overlap of nerds and hippies that hung out in the high school’s central quad near the library. We were called “the Granolas.”)

Anyhoodle, I remember him being like a head shorter than me; he described himself as an iconoclast and he idolized Jim Morrison of the Doors. I don’t specifically remember anything he wrote at the time, but his style tended toward dark-clever with a bit of funny. A friend of mine lost her virginity to him, so there’s that.

Kind of funny remembering her too. I was sweet on her in eighth and ninth grade and, thanks to a lucky spin of the bottle at her birthday party in eighth grade, she was the first girl I ever kissed. Nothing more ever came of it after that despite my dropping clumsy awkward hints in ninth grade. By time we were upperclassmen, the friend zone was actually a pretty good place to be. She provided me with the intel that got me together with my first real girlfriend.

I remember being a bit concerned when she professed having a major crush on this weird little freshman and was even more surprised when she told me about the virginity thing. (We were close enough that she volunteered details.) As far as I recall, it worked out pretty well; they were together until she graduated, which is a good deal better than the hash I made of my high school romance.

So there you go: thoughts about two random people I used to know. I don’t care to live in the past, but it’s fun to visit sometimes.

But Enough About Me: State of the Blog

     So, this is the first anniversary of Tales of the Boojum: The Blog, give or take a day. Overall, I’ve kept to my theme of “middle-aged nerd writes about stuff,” though that was a pretty low bar. Posting a couple times a month turned out to be more than I was willing to commit to, but I did manage to hit once a month (though typically on the last day of the month in a finishing-homework-on-the-bus fashion). August’s “Song Title Game” was sort of a cheat, since it was something that had been lying around for a while even if it was something I’d been meaning to share. Likewise, July’s “Stuff I Wish I’d Said” was kind of dashed out at the last minute though it amused me and I am pleased with it. There’s always stuff I wish I’d said.

     Since last year, I added Comics Alliance and The Mary Sue to my list of favorite blogs there on the right and removed Fraggmented and The Mighty Godking, which, while still good, update even less frequently than I do. That’s some pretty weak sauce. I’ve got one or two more in mind that I might add. I’ve also been wanting to add a list of my favorite web comics, but there are so many to choose from.

     Looking back, I have achieved my goal of writing more. (Fortunately, cultivating actual readership was not one of my goals.) I wrote a lot of different stuff from throw-away fiction and comedy bits to reviews to painstakingly researched essays. I feel like I've done some good work, at least good enough that I can still continue to think of myself as a writer. So, yay.

     Coming up, I’d like to do more exploration of tropes, comics, and fanfic (and combinations thereof). The main thing is that I’m enjoying myself, so I should keep doing it.

But Enough About Me: Stuff I Wish I'd Said, Santa Cruz

Scene: My daughter and I encounter four teens sitting on the sidewalk outside Pizza My Heart in downtown Santa Cruz. One of them asks if I can spare some money so they can get some pizza. I say, “Sorry, no.” They say, “’s cool.”

What I should have said: “Blackjack! Keno! Bingo! Craps! Jeez! I haven’t seen you guys since the casino caper! Listen, I am so sorry for bailing on you guys, but when I saw you had grabbed those boxes of Mexican fireworks instead of the plastique, I knew the Baroness was going to go berserk, so it was every man for himself. Anyway, looks like you all managed okay, though I see Solitaire’s not with you. I wouldn’t worry though. I’ve known her since third grade and I have yet to see that chick not land on her feet. She’s fine wherever she is. By the way, this is my daughter. She’s totally really my daughter and not a shape-changing alien nano-collective life form.

(I glance up the street at some other pedestrians.)

Uh-oh! Looks like a couple Enforcers. Just play dumb; if you pretend not to see them, they’ll probably ignore you. We’ll just duck in here and sneak out the back. Come on Z-03. I mean, um, Zoe.”

But Enough About Me: My Beverly Hills Mall Trip

I took the girls on a shopping trip to Beverly Center in Beverly Hills because we happened to be in the neighborhood. The teens wasted no time in ditching me, so I wandered around on my own.

This is not exactly the manliest of malls. It’s mostly pricey boutiques selling women’s clothes, shoes, and accessories. Glad I brought a book.

Except for this, but there's such a thing as trying too hard.

Not to say that I saw nothing that amused me.

"Aldo" is Italian for "bigger poster."

 

He looks back at the man, Aldo, who put him in this box and vows vengeance.

 

If the answer is "yes," the next question is are you here at Beverly Center because you were evil in life?

 

The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your House and a couple of her coworkers.

 

Miley's first take of "Wrecking Ball" went rather badly.

 

This one's from outside a shoe shop; you see, she's not wearing any pants, so your eyes are naturally drawn to her shoes.

 

But Enough About Me: Not as Young as I Used to Be

“Yesterday it was my birthday. I hung one more year on the line. My desk’s a mess, I should be depressed, but I’m havin’ a good time,” if I may paraphrase Paul Simon. Nonetheless, I admit to having mixed feelings about turning 50. At this point, there are only three circumstances under which I’d be described as young: (1) If I drop dead (oh, he died young); (2) if I’m appointed to the Supreme Court; or (3) if I’m named Pope. None of these appeal to me much, though I wouldn’t mind visiting Rome again. Or D.C. for that matter.

I remember the first time it hit me that I was no longer the young generation. It was about ten years ago. I was in the bedroom folding some laundry and there was some concert channel on TV. I don’t remember the name of the band (I suppose I could look it up because this is the Internet, but I’m not going to because shut up), but it was one that had its hits sometime after I graduated from college. Anyway, I’m folding laundry and enjoying the tunes when the lead singer comes up and announces they’re going to play an oldie.

It turned out to be “Give a Little Bit,” by Supertramp, circa 1977. Next thing I know, I’m standing on the bed shouting at the TV. “You snot-nosed little punk! I’ve got tee-shirts older than you!”

Of course, by this date, the band in question is probably only getting play on oldies stations itself, but I’m not sure if that counts as consolation.

Another time I realized I’m not as young as I used to be was only a few years ago. We were touring the Princeton campus on a beautiful warm September day and a lot of the students were taking advantage of the opportunity to catch some rays. I’m talking highly intelligent, hot-looking coeds in bikinis. The thought that came to my mind was startling and I remember it verbatim: “Good God, 1986 was a long time ago!”

But perhaps it’s time to look forward. You’re never too old to think about who you want to be when you grow up. I’ve decided that I want to be either Uncle Iroh from Avatar: The Last Air Bender or giant Russian Santa Claus from Rise of the Guardians. Either way, I’m going t have to grow a really sweet beard.

(This could work. I already drink a lot of tea.)

(Giant Russian Santa is the Santa I believe in.)