Stratovania

I've been feeling pretty lethargic recently, and haven't even felt like playing video games that much. I have done a few things in the past few weeks that are probably worth talking about, though. It was Beth's mom's birthday on the twenty-fifth of last month, and we visited and went to the zoo in Bridgeton, where I felt the need to pose with animal statues.

Beth was wearing her Frasier hat, so I tried to get a picture of her with some cranes, but it didn't come out very well. There were several peacocks wandering around the place.

One of the lemurs was sitting on a sliding board.

These pigs with long ears and tails were interesting.

And they had some leopards and tigers that reminded me of our cats in a few respects.

Black cats usually remind me of panthers. I believe black panthers are actually leopards, but cougars are also sometimes called panthers. These designations aren't always that specific. One of the lemurs And my mother-in-law shoved me into a lion fountain. Somehow, I survived.


On the first of this month, we saw Scott Thompson perform as Buddy Cole at the City Winery, which is a pretty inconvenient venue, but they've had a few things we've been interested in.

The last show we saw there was John Waters, and while Scott is younger, they both came from a time when being gay was much more dangerous and subversive, and seem somewhat bemused by that community today. Then on that Thursday, we saw a Kevin Geeks Out show at the Nitehawk Cinema in Williamsburg. It was about advertising, with topics including how slogans are used in movies and television, with Kevin Maher mentioning that he thought there would be more characters using them as one-liners when killing somebody. He made up for it with a video of various Arnold Schwarzenegger kill scenes with somewhat relevant slogans dubbed in. Steve Young, a former writer for David Letterman, had two segments, one on collectible playing cards advertising local businesses, often with bizarrely lazy art; and another on records of stock clips and jingles to play in radio commercials. On our way back to the subway, I noticed some art by Molly Crabapple, who did a lot of work for Max Fractal (formerly Kim Boekbinder), and whose book I own.

Our next show was EXTC at (Le) Poisson Rouge in Manhattan last Thursday.

I believe the concept started when Terry Chambers, the drummer for XTC on their first five albums and a bit of the sixth, did some shows with Colin Moulding. Colin isn't part of the touring band now, but Terry still plays, and the set includes songs from after Terry had left the band. It's done with the blessing of Andy Partridge, who stopped playing live after a panic attack in 1982. The rest of the band consists of Steve Hampton on lead vocals and guitar, and Terry Lines on bass and backing vocals.

The songs were all performed quite closely to the studio recordings. Steve didn't replicate all of Andy's vocal oddities, but I'm not sure Andy could anymore either. It was a fun time. I bought a CD there, but I haven't listened to it yet.


I'll also mention that I got my sketchbook from Becca Whitaker, whom I've known online for a long time, and it's full of colorful pin-ups based on popular media. There's a section of cereal mascots, which is up my alley even though I don't eat a lot of cereal. Mermaids and horror icons are also well-represented. For my copy, she drew Artemis and Jack Pumpkinhead.

And today, I received these from Vylirium.

There's a lot of cool art online, and I haven't really put any of it on display, despite having lived in the same place for almost seven years. I need to clean up first, and it's difficult to get motivated. You'd think being able to decorate would BE the motivation, but I guess we're back to the lethargy again.

This is something I wrote last year, partially to wrap up some loose ends surrounding Clocker and Kadj the Conjurer from Ruth Plumly Thompson's Pirates in Oz. As is my wont, I also worked in a few references to some post-canonical Oz works. It feels unfinished, though, like it needs to go somewhere else. Any suggestions are welcome.

ROBOTS OF OZ
By Nathan M. DeHoff

“And what can we do for you, sir?” inquired the Frogman, who stood at the entrance to Ozma’s throne room, where the Royal Ruler was holding court.
“I have reason to suspect you have several items that used to belong to me, as well as an old prisoner of mine,” answered the tall man in faded robes.
“Prisoner? Are you, then, a jailor?”
“Not by choice, certainly, but I was the only one willing to take this particular fellow after he fell out of favor with the people of Menankypoo.”
“Menankypoo? Isn’t that in Ev?”
“Not politically, but geographically, it essentially is. It’s where I live.”
“Then how did you get here to Oz?”
“That’s my secret.”
“All right, but you should know that magic is forbidden here in—”
“I’m well aware of that, and I haven’t practiced any magic since coming to this fine country. Well, unless you count this walking stick.”
“It’s magical?”
“To an extent. It saves up energy and transfers it to me, to keep me moving more efficiently.”
“I would imagine that’s acceptable, but you probably should check with the Ruler. One of my closest friends has a Magic Dishpan that she inherited from her ancestors, and she’s allowed to keep it.”
As soon as Ozma had finished speaking with a farmer who wanted to keep locusts off his fields, the Frogman announced Kadj from Menankypoo. The man approached the throne, where Ozma sat with the Cowardly Lion and Hungry Tiger on either side of her, and Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz just behind the seat.
“Menankypoo? That place out in Ev where people talk in flashing lights?” asked Dorothy.
“Yes, although I am not a native, and hence am incapable of communicating in that fashion. I have come here because I think you might have some of my magic in this palace.”
“I don’t see any reason why we would have taken any of your magic from Menankypoo,” said Ozma. “The only interaction we’ve had with them was to restore them after they’d been thrown in the sea by pirates.”
“I doubt being underwater affected them much. But anyway, I don’t know that you necessarily took my magic on purpose, but it does appear to have ended up here. The Standing Stick and Hardy-Hood invented by my daughter Cinderbutton, and a man with a cuckoo clock head by the name of Clocker.”
“Yes, I remember them!” exclaimed Dorothy. “Old Ruggedo brought them here the last time he invaded, and we didn’t know where they came from in the first place.”
“I’d almost forgotten about Clocker,” mused the Wizard. “I was trying to replace his bad works with good, but haven’t been particularly successful. He’s still in a closet now.”
“That seems rather cruel to a living thing,” observed Ozma.
“I do not know that he is a liv-ing thing,” objected Tik-Tok, the mechanical man made of copper, who stood near the throne. “He works on clock-work, as I do.”
“You’re both right, in a way,” said Kadj. “He’s a combination of biological and mechanical components. He was supposed to serve as a wise man for the King of Menankypoo, but his subjects didn’t much like the ideas Clocker put into his head.”
“Can you really expect much when he has a cuckoo for a brain?” asked Scraps, the Patchwork Girl.
“I’m afraid that was one of Mooj’s ideas. I don’t think he turned out too well either, although perhaps you’d know better than I do.”
“The same Mooj who turned me into an alarm clock?” shuddered the Cowardly Lion.
“Perhaps. He was a master clockmaker who worked for Smith and Tinker, who if I’m not mistaken were also the creators of your copper man.”
“You mean Jomo?” asked Dorothy.
“Jomo? Oh, yes, the coppersmith. He came to work at the firm around the same time as Mooj, actually.”
“I thought Jomo WAS Smith and Tinker,” said Scraps.
“He was a vital part of the organization, but of course he worked for Mr. Smith and Mr. Tinker themselves, before they disappeared.”
“So there WERE a real Smith and Tinker?” inquired the Wizard. “I’ll admit I’ve been confused on that point.”
“Why, of COURSE there’s an actual Mr. Tinker! His first name’s Ezra, and I met him in Kansas!” exclaimed Dorothy. “Why had I forgotten about that?”
“I’m afraid there may have been some magic at work there,” replied Kadj.
“But Jomo doesn’t USE magic!” demanded Jellia Jamb, the head of the palace staff.
“No, he didn’t, but I did. So many people were asking for Smith and Tinker after they disappeared that I had Jomo drink some of my Identi-Tea, so he and those around him would think he WAS them. After that trouble with the Nomes, though, he left for Oz, as Mr. Wainwright had done before him.”
“Did you work for Smith and Tinker, too?” asked Dorothy.
“Occasionally, although I was never an official part of the firm. I occasionally provided magical assistance.”
“I did not think Mis-ter Smith and Mis-ter Tin-ker used ma-gic,” stated Tik-Tok.
“No, which is why they needed my help. Of course, in a magical land, even those who don’t practice magic still make use of it sometimes. I mean, if you look at Tik-Tok, it takes much less energy to wind him than he has after being wound. It takes a bit of manipulation of the laws of thermodynamics to accomplish that.”
“I’ve always thought the same about people not dying here in Oz,” added the Wizard.
“Even the most non-magical of inventors occasionally needs a conjurer.”
“But I thought conjurers just did tricks, like the Wizard used to before Glinda taught him real magic,” said Betsy Bobbin, causing the court magician to blush.
“That’s one meaning of the term, as in a conjuring trick. It can also mean someone who calls demons.”
“A demon? But aren’t they evil?” asked Trot.
“That’s a common misconception. Some are, like the ones who live in the caves near the Laughing Valley, but there’s nothing inherently bad about the term. It comes from the Greek, meaning a tutelary spirit.”
“Mr. Baum did write a book about the Demon of Electricity,” said Dorothy.
“Yes, I’ve met him. In my particular case, however, while I have worked with demons, the title ‘Conjurer’ refers largely to my having studied under the Wizard Conjo.”
“I don’t believe I’ve heard of him,” said the Wizard of Oz.
“He’s very reclusive, but he also can’t help showing off.”
“Then you knew that old clock-face Mooj?” asked the Patchwork Girl.
“Yes, he worked for Smith and Tinker. He had some kind of accident while working on a clockwork project, and he somehow managed to augment his own head with clock parts. After that, he seems to have grown increasingly…odd. He became obsessed with finding a device that could regulate time itself, said to be hidden somewhere in a place called Seebania.”
“Maybe that’s why he took over the kingdom,” said the Wizard.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. He seemed to have rather…loose morals, especially after the accident. There might be some kind of inherent difficulty in mixing organic brains with mechanical ones, which could explain how Clocker became so sinister.”
“My friend, the Tin Woodman, had flesh parts replaced with metal ones, and he’s not sinister at all!” objected the Scarecrow.
“Yes, but the Emperor isn’t really mechanical, is he?” mused the Frogman. “He’s just formed of metal parts. Meddling with brains, however, could be considerably trickier.”
“My brains work just fine.”
“But they’re the only brains you’ve ever had. Remember what happened to the Glass Cat when the Wizard tried to replace her pink brains with transparent ones?”
“Yes, that was a mistake,” sighed the Wizard, “although I still think it could have worked if I’d done it gradually instead of all at once.”
“I wouldn’t try it.”
“I’m not going to, since she prevented Ozma from being kidnapped and all. I’m just not sure changing brains is a lost cause.”
“I’m not sure about that, but I do know that neither Mooj nor Clocker turned out well,” declared Kadj. “What happened to Mooj, anyway?”
“Ozma turned him into a drop of water,” explained the Wizard.
“Well, if he was continuing down the same path he had been, there might not have been a better choice.”
“He threatened Ojo, who gave me most of MY brains,” announced Scraps, “and pushed his father off a cliff.”
“Well, maybe I’d better take a look at Clocker,” declared Kadj. “Do you still have the Standing Stick and the Hardy-Hood?”
“The Stick, yes,” answered Ozma. “We gave the Hardy-Hood to Roger, the Read Bird from the Octagon Isle.”
“I suppose I don’t necessarily need it back, but it’s rather frustrating to come home from vacation and find that your cave has been burgled.”
“Speaking of mechanical people,” said the Frogman, “our next case is that of Ozwoz the Wonderful, who has 2000 magically controlled wooden soldiers.”
“What an odd coincidence.”
“That’s how things sometimes are in Oz,” confirmed the Wizard.
A man in sharp Gillikin clothes, with a broad-brimmed feathered cap, a long cape, and a rakish mustache, entered the room, where he was shown by the Soldier with Green Whiskers to a seat facing Ozma’s throne.
“Salutations, my fair young Queen!” said Ozwoz politely, doffing his cap to his monarch. “I understand you called me here to discuss some matters with my army.”
“Yes, from the information we’ve gathered,” began Professor Wogglebug, as he walked back and forth before the Gillikin’s chair, “you have been practicing illegal magic, and having hostile intentions toward travelers, as per your attempts to have your army of wooden soldiers fire upon the Princes of Pumperdink and Regalia, and the Red Jinn of Ev.”
“Oh, yes, but we got on quite well afterwards. We even traded, and I find my never-empty cookie jar to be quite useful when I’m working and don’t have time to get a meal.”
“But only because they had magical protection to keep themselves from being shot full of holes! Not everyone who comes by your home has that, I’m sure.”
“To be fair, not many people come there at all, and those who do leave promptly without my soldiers firing a single shot.”
“Is it really necessary to have your own personal army?” asked the Scarecrow.
“Perhaps not necessary, but well within my rights, and a useful precaution in case of thieves or invaders. Many countries in Oz have their own standing armies, and I have heard nothing of your trying to disband them.”
“But those are countries with their own populations, not just one person!” objected the Wogglebug.
“It is still my own inherited territory, and the population is not strictly relevant. Consider it my own personal country, Ozwozia, if you wish. Besides, if you consider the army itself, the population is 2000.”
“2001, counting you, right?” questioned the Scarecrow.
“No, as I gave my vanguard soldier, Johnwan, to Prince Randy. Perhaps I shall make another, to keep the number round, but so far I have not felt the need.”
“I prefer square numbers, myself,” put in the Woozy, who had just awakened from a nap.
“By my cal-cu-la-tions, that would re-quire Oz-woz to ei-ther give a-way a-noth-er six-ty-three sol-diers, or make an add-i-tion-al twen-ty-six,” said Tik-Tok.
“I don’t know that your wooden soldiers really count as a pop’lation,” stated Dorothy.
“Do you consider your own mechanical man to be a citizen?” questioned Ozwoz.
“Well, yes, but he thinks and talks and acts. If your soldiers are all like Johnwan, they only do what they’re ordered to.”
“I am on-ly a ma-chine, and do what I am wound up to do,” said Tik-Tok, “but I app-re-ci-ate your ac-cep-tance of me as part of Oz-ma’s court.”
“You’re not only a machine. You’re our friend!” exclaimed Betsy, giving the copper man a hug.
“And you can’t appreciate anything unless you have feelings,” added the Shaggy Man.
“Mere-ly a fig-ure of speech, I as-sure you.”
“I think he’s embarrassed,” remarked Trot.
“Even if your army can be legally excused, there’s still the matter of your practicing illegal magic,” continued the educated insect.
“I am, as I have explained before, a Wozard, and there are no laws against wozardry in the Land of Oz.”
“That’s the sort of legal loophole that’s common in the Outside World, but we try to avoid such things here,” said the Wizard. “The practice of magic is illegal without a license, regardless of what it’s called. Besides, what IS a Wozard?”
“Why, the practice of wozardry, a sort of thaumaturgical art that specializes in the manipulation of matter and energy for the purposes of maintaining control over…er, the nature of reality and the safety of…humanity?”
“You just made it up, didn’t you?” asked the Patchwork Girl, pointing at the Wozard.
“Not entirely. I found the term in a book, referring to the Prince Ozmonga, whom I believe to be a relative of mine.”
“And you’re sure that wasn’t just a mistake?” asked the Wogglebug.
“A bug, if you will,” said the Scarecrow, earning him a frown from the Professor.
“I examined it with a spelling spell, and it said it was a real word,” said Ozwoz.
“Which means you WERE practicing magic,” said the Scarecrow.
“A perfectly acceptable bit of wozardry.”
“Which you still haven’t really defined,” said the Wizard.
“And you just decided you were a wizard, didn’t you?”
“I, ahem, suppose that’s true, as I was using the term before I knew any actual magic. Once I learned it, the title stuck.”
“And what makes your wizardry different from, say, your mentor Glinda’s sorcery?”
“It’s a bit of a gray area. I have learned that many who consider themselves wizards specialize in scientific magic and the use of tools and machines, but that’s not always the case.”
“Then you can be a wizard without knowing exactly what one is, but I can’t do the same as a Wozard?”
“Then wozardry is only different from wizardry because you SAY it is?” asked Jack Pumpkinhead. “Then couldn’t anyone practice magic if they came up with their own name for it?”
“If it comes to that, other places in Oz have magical properties and practitioners. Randy’s Kingdom of Regalia has a prophetic amethyst ball, and a sage practiced in scrying. Blankenburg has its water of invisibility. The Kingdom of Patch has its Spool of Succession.”
Scraps groaned at the mention of this item, but let Ozwoz continue. “The King of Bear Center has both a magic wand and a magically powered pink bear.”
Trot began saying, “He did get the wand from the fairies, which is—"
“And the Yips have a magic dishpan.”
“That DOES happen to be a family heirloom,” said the Frogman.
“I have magical heirlooms as well. And I feel that, as the ruler of Ozwozia, I have the right to my own magical possessions and my standing army. My experiments have harmed no one.”
“But the bullets could,” said Betsy.
“They are for self-defense. I’ve never tried to invade another country, unlike, say, the Queen of Oogaboo.”
“You seem rather well informed for a recluse,” stated the Cowardly Lion.
“Oh, I keep up with the news, as best I can.”
As this had about wrapped up the testimony, Ozma began deliberating with some of her courtiers, while the Wizard asked Ozwoz, “By the way, do you have any knowledge of clockwork?”
“My soldiers operate in a different manner, but I have studied it somewhat. Why do you ask?”
“Assistance with altering the mechanical man made partially by Kadj here.”
The Conjurer and the Wozard followed the Wizard into his laboratory, where he opened the closet holding the now motionless Clocker, a man about twelve feet tall with a wooden head and clock face. As he had a fleshy outside dressed in fancy clothing, opening him was a task the magic-workers were a bit squeamish about, but Kadj was able to do so with a switch on his back. Once the three of them began looking around at the Clock Man’s inner works, they all competed with each other to find things they could improve. The Conjurer removed a few extra screws he found in the shoulders, thinking they might be making the man screwy. The Wizard tightened a few bolts and replaced the rusting mainspring, although Kadj had to help in shaping it properly. Ozwoz used some of his All-Purpose Polish on both Clocker’s head and as much of his insides he could. He also insisted on making a remote control device, in case an emergency shutdown was required. As they worked, the Wizard wondered aloud how many more mechanical people there were around.
“Smith and Tinker built another partially organic person, smaller than Clocker here, although I don’t remember what happened to him. There’s also the Giant with the Hammer that the Nome King bought. I’ve heard tell of a cast-iron giant made by King Scowleyow, but I have no idea how it ran. I’ve also heard tell of a whole tribe of mechanical people in the Deadly Desert.”
“Well, what do we do with the cuckoo?” inquired Ozwoz. “Give it something to eat?”
“What do cuckoos eat?” asked Kadj.
“Chocolate cereal?”
“I don’t think a mechanical bird would eat anything,” pondered the Wizard. “Still, it couldn’t hurt to give it some of my special nectar, good for curing throat maladies and sour voices.”
The magicians wound up the Clock Man and closed up his body, and then waited as the minutes ticked by until it was three-fifteen. The cuckoo popped out of Clocker’s forehead and handed a slip of yellow paper to the Conjurer, which read, “I am completely operational, and all my works are functioning perfectly.”
“Hmm, looks a bit sinister to me,” observed Kadj.
“What, being polite and formal is sinister now?” objected Ozwoz.
Ozma, who had finished deliberating, told the Wozard that, thanks partially to his service in helping to repair Clocker, she would not punish him for his past use of magic, and that he would be allowed to keep his soldiers, provided she never use them to attack anyone without proper cause. He would, however, be forbidden to practice any magic, no matter what he called it, at any time in the future without proper express permission. Ozwoz figured it was the best he could hope for, and returned to his Gillikin home. Kadj wrapped a cloak around himself and Clocker and leapt into the nearest fireplace, making them both disappear in a puff of smoke.

THE END

Beth and I saw Rufus Wainwright at Tarrytown Music Hall on Thursday the 6th. His sister Lucy was the opener, and she also sang on a few of his songs.

He's a great musician, but so many of his songs are depressing. I guess it runs in his family, since I remember my dad having an album by his mom and aunt, Kate and Anna McGarrigle, and those were also good songs that were pretty much all downers, and often about death. Rufus even made a joke about a Leonard Cohen cover actually brought the mood up a bit. The song in question was "So Long, Marianne," although he also did "Hallelujah" as his last song, with Lucy on backing vocals. His second to last was "Going to a Town," which was also the name of the tour, and he wore a T-shirt with some lyrics from it. He also played another political song that he wrote at seventeen, called "Liberty Cabbage."

Last weekend was Monster-Mania in Cherry Hill. The first panel we saw was with Dana Kimmell, who was in Friday the 13th Part 3. We watched most of those movies in quick succession and I tend to forget which one was which, but the stories from people working on them are still interesting.

Then came Lauren Lavera and Elliott Fullam from the second and third Terrifier films.

Roger Jackson's main reason for being at a horror convention was that he's the voice of Ghostface in the Scream series, but he's also Mojo Jojo on Powerpuff Girls and a lot of other voices.

He said that Mojo was originally intended to have a Peter Lorre kind of voice, but Craig McCracken suggested throwing in a bit of samurai. He also gave some examples of when he voiced a whole bunch of cats and dogs for some video games. The first evening panel was with Eli Roth, who mostly talked about the company he's founding that allows for investment from fans.

And there was someone in the audience who yelled every time he mentioned one of his movies. And from The Return of the Living Dead were Miguel Nunez, Linnea Quigley, Thom Matthews, and Beverly Randolph. Miguel was very talkative, but the others had some good anecdotes as well.


I probably don't need to mention that the political situation in this country seems to be pretty much hopeless at this point. I'm still trying to wrap my head around how people can still support Trump when he's constantly bullying and threatening people. Yeah, I know about the leopards eating faces and how his supporters think it's only going to be other people who get hurt, but isn't his attitude off-putting anyway? I feel like that kind of behavior has been normalized way too much, and a lot of people just expect it. I guess at this point it doesn't even matter too much whether he still has supporters in the populace in general when the Supreme Court is on his side, and the Democrats seem eager to maintain a status quo that doesn't really exist anymore.

I didn't want to write about this right away, but my mom died on the Thursday before last. She hadn't been feeling that well recently, but it was still very unexpected. I hadn't seen her since November. My sister told me about it when I came home from work. It's weird, because it didn't really hit me all at once, but when something reminds me of her, I just feel how weird it is that she isn't around anymore. It's sort of an empty feeling. There was a burial on Saturday at a Quaker natural burial place in Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania. In attendance were my sister and brother, his wife and son, my mom's brother and his wife, and my dad and his wife. I guess that's a little strange, as they had been divorced for over thirty years. There was no formal service, but we helped to inter the coffin, although I wasn't very good at pulling the rope and one of the employees had to help me. Afterwards, we ate at a nearby cafe, and there was a petting zoo next door with goats, turkeys, and chickens.

So yeah, I've been depressed recently, but still trying to do the things I would otherwise, since that's kind of how I deal with bad stuff. But at the same time, I can't help feeling a bit guilty, like I don't know the proper way to grieve. I did get to thinking about what I want done with my body after I die, and I'm really not sure. I do like the idea of having a headstone, for some reason. When I see gravestones, I almost always have no idea of who the people are, but I get ideas in my head based on the little information that's there. I don't know if it makes sense to anyone else, but death itself doesn't scare me so much as non-existence does.

The previous week or so was pretty busy. On Thursday the fifth, there was a Kevin Geeks Out that was different from the usual format. Kevin Maher wrote his own parody of a Hallmark Christmas movie, which was about a vampire lawyer from New York going to a small town in Vermont and falling in love with a werewolf. It was mostly just people performing, although it did have costumes and stock projected backgrounds to set the scenes. As such, they could include the sort of jokes common in radio comedy, where they wouldn't work if you could see what was happening. There was one bit about a piece of art that the protagonist loved and thought would win a contest, which was later shown to be nutmeg with googly eyes. And the inhabitants of the Vermont town had different regional accents, like a Minnesota one for the woman who owned the local diner. There were a few presentations of the more normal sort, one about courtroom scenes in holiday movies and another about how vampires and werewolves hate each other, but they were presented in-character. I get the impression that the rivalry between vampires and werewolves in fiction is fairly recent, like that between elves and dwarves. Interestingly, Tolkien actually used both, the Elf/Dwarf thing being well-known, but there are references in Beren and Luthien to how much vampires hate werewolves, even though both serve Sauron. But in folklore, there was a lot of overlap between vampires and werewolves. Dracula could control wolves and turn into one.


On Sunday, we went with Beth's mom and Uncle John to Batsto, where they had exhibits about the village in the old days, with the mansion being open to guests.

There also had free hot apple cider and cookies, and horse-drawn carriage rides.

We also visited one of the new Spirit Christmas stores, where we walked around the whole place but didn't buy anything.

I did stand in the giant Santa boots. And I like these snack-themed pillows, although I don't know if I'd want to own one.


Tuesday was a Micky Dolenz show at the City Winery in Manhattan, held in the upstairs area where we hadn't been that often before, if at all. They have tables so people can eat food and drinks, but it's an awkward way to watch a concert when the seats aren't actually facing the stage. We'd heard most of the songs he did and his introductions to them before, but he did do Buffalo Springfield's "For What It's Worth," and he mentioned that Stephen Stills was Peter Tork's roommate, and he also auditioned for the Monkees.

There were two Christmas songs in the mix, "Riu Chiu" and "Run Rudolph Run," which the band played without Micky. That song sounds a lot like "Johnny B. Goode," which was also in the setlist.

Paul Schaefer introduced the show, talking about how he worked with Don Kirschner and doing an impression of him, and he played keyboard on a few of the later songs.

Then we saw Micky again on Sunday at the Bergen Performing Arts Center. Beth had bought tickets for that one before the New York show was announced, and tried to sell the tickets, but was unsuccessful.

It was mostly the same, but he did play Elton John's "Your Song," which he hadn't at City Winery. He introduced it by talking about how he and Elton wore the same T-shirt at a party in Los Angeles.

There was also a screen, they had an intermission, and Paul wasn't there. This was after we tried to find a store in a nearby mall and not only didn't, but most of the stores were closed on a Sunday during the holiday shopping season.

I know online ordering has killed a lot of physical shopping, but I'm sure there would still have been some. It might be some weird county rule, as some of the Targets around there were also closed.


We had tickets for Lightscape at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden on Thursday, and it was pretty similar to past years, but not exactly the same. Everything looks really pretty lit up while you're there, but it doesn't photograph that well. It was really cold out that night, despite the weather generally being incredibly warm for this time of year as of late, which was another reason I didn't want to take a lot of pictures. The Singularity and the butterflies in the pond outside the conservatory were cool.


They Might Be Giants played at Kings Theatre in Brooklyn on Friday night (the thirteenth), and it was a longer than usual show with no opener and an intermission.

It's a big venue, and it looked pretty full. John Flansburgh said at the beginning that they were showcasing John Henry, and they did eight songs from that album: "Snail Shell," "Unrelated Thing," "Spy," "No One Knows My Plan," "Dirt Bike," "Meet James Ensor," "Out of Jail," and "The End of the Tour." John Linnell did a bit presumably based on an old record commercial during the improvisational bit of "Spy," which I think he also did the last time we saw the band live. And Flansburgh mixed up the lyrics to "Dirt Bike," but since it's not a song they do often and a lot of the words are just "[da-da-da] dirt bike," that's understandable. They recently brought back the Stick, which is literally a big stick that Flans bangs on the stage for "Lie Still, Little Bottle," a bit that theyhadn't done in a long time.

Horn players Mark Pender, Dan Levine, and Stan Harrison joined the band on some songs, and Dan Miller played the solo at the end of "Damn Good Times" from the balcony.

Flans also talked about how he was responsible for the drones flying over New Jersey.

We finally got our Christmas tree on Tuesday, and decorated it yesterday. I know it's late in the month, and we ended up getting a smaller one than usual, but that means it took less time to set it up.

I don't know that I'm feeling that festive just now, but it's something I would have regretted not doing. I've never been someone who disliked the holidays; they were just a lot easier when other people were setting them up.

I'm sure it's not polite to mention it, but today is my birthday. Guess how old I am.

I've written before about L. Frank Baum's recurring usage of that number. Unfortunately, it's also the number of our president-elect, because for some reason the precedent was set by Grover Cleveland for non-consecutive terms to count as separate presidents, which doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. Beth's birthday was on Friday, and we spent a lot of it driving.


On the Saturday before last, Beth wanted to go to a place she'd just found out about on the Internet, the American Treasure Tour in Oaks, Pennsylvania. We drove there with her mom and uncle. It's located inside a warehouse building, and is the collection of one particular person who prefers to remain anonymous. It fills two rooms, one for musical instruments and one for toys, although there's a lot of overlap and a fair amount of stuff that doesn't fit either category. Much of the music room is dedicated to self-playing instruments, like player pianos and band organs.

One organ played "Dancing Queen," and I would have thought their era would have been largely over by the seventies, but I think I've occasionally heard even newer stuff on carousel organs.

It also has a lot of dolls and dollhouses, and some miniature sets of scenes from movies, including a few Oz-related ones.

The toy room also has a Tin Woodman and Munchkin Mayor.

One part of the music room had a lot of phones.

There's a lot of old advertising stuff, and items and displays from stores, restaurants, and circuses.

A giant jack-in-the-box from Kay-Bee Toys contains a soldier who calls himself Mr. Kay-Bee, and sings songs. Kay-Bee was still around in my younger days, and they still used toy soldiers as mascots, but I didn't know any of them had names.

One part has a bunch of Coca-Cola polar bears, and another some RCA Victor dogs.

And there are some interesting pairings with stuffed animals in the seats of cars and motorcycles, some toys and others ones made to drive on actual roads.

Could you really trust Foghorn Leghorn to drive a tractor, or Dopey from the Seven Dwarfs to fly a plane?

Did Yoshi run away, so Mario had to ride a horse instead?

And what do Kermit and Petunia think of Miss Piggy and Porky Pig taking a drive together?

This car with the Burger King and Ronald McDonald (or at least their heads) hanging out together does look official, though.

An early Chuck E. Cheese animatronic gave the mouse a gruff New York accent, which I don't think he had in the more recent commercials I recall seeing.

And R2-D2 was hanging out with some cotton candy and popcorn robots.

There's a tram tour around much of the toy room, and the driver has to turn very sharply in narrow passages, so I'm glad I'm not in charge of that. This lumberjack and giraffe were in a different part of the warehouse complex.


Last Tuesday, Beth and I saw Ben Folds at a venue near where I work, which was convenient for me.

His opener was Lindsey Kraft, who also played piano and had a pretty similar style.

Her performance was pretty loose, with her telling the story of her relationships and other life events, sliding casually into the songs.

Ben played one set, and then had another that was all requests delivered by paper airplane. I know not all of them made it to the stage, as I saw a few lying on the floor, which is a shame. I threw one of them that landed near me, but not hard enough to get it to the front, and I don't know whether anyone else passed it along. Ben commented on how a lot of the requests were for mellow songs, and there were also several for stuff he did for movie soundtracks that he couldn't remember anymore, including the cover of the Clash's "Lost in the Supermarket" for Over the Hedge. At one point, he attempted a Bruce Springsteen cover that turned into "Sweet Caroline" when he thought his voice was sounding more like Neil Diamond. They do both have similar vocal tones. This show was seated, but it was all folding chairs. We have tickets to see Franz Ferdinand at the same place later on, and it's standing room only.

This past weekend, we went to Pennsylvania to see my family. Before we got to my dad's house, we ate at Fuddrucker's for the first time in a while. There used to be one near Beth's mom's house, but it closed down years ago. On Saturday, we went with my dad and his wife to Columbia, and visited a museum that used to be a church.

They had a large train set, and a guy working there told some ghost stories.

Another place nearby was showcasing some sculptors from Baltimore.

And we drove to a nearby overlook above the Susquehanna River.

That evening, we had dinner with my brother and his wife and son. It's my nephew's seventh birthday tomorrow, and I don't see him very often. He's still very energetic, and I don't think he gets that from our side of the family. I still need to get him a present. The next day, we got frozen yogurt with my sister, and I briefly saw my mom, who's not doing very well right now. My brother gave me a Baby Fozzie Bear from McDonald's in the eighties, and my sister a pack of Wizard of Oz trading cards and the Switch version of Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door. I have the GameCube version of that, but our GameCube is still at Beth's mom's house. And this morning, Beth gave me Final Fantasy XII: The Zodiac Age, also for Switch. Not all of my presents for Beth have even arrived yet, and her birthday is over already.

So far this month, we've seen a concert, gone to two amusement parks, and done a few Halloween activities, so I might as well write about them now. We also got stuck in traffic a few times and got COVID and flu shots, and I had bad side effects from medication. Those aren't as enjoyable to reminisce about, however.
On the first Sunday of the month, Beth and I went to Tarrytown to see Neko Case, which ended up being a strange and kind of disturbing experience. The opener was Amaad Wasif, who, during one of his songs, apparently decided it would be a good idea to go into the audience and sit in people's laps. I didn't see any of this from the balcony, but from what we saw online afterwards, one guy objected to it and pushed him away. He then returned to the stage and said someone punched him, which the guy and other people sitting nearby insist he didn't. I don't actually know what happened, but he left after that, and Neko didn't come on until about an hour after she was scheduled to do so. She was angry, and while she still did the show, she never explained what was actually bothering her. I'm sure it had to do with what happened to the opener, but neither she nor the venue provided any details, and the guy who pushed Wasif had already been kicked out. Is the whole audience being punished, like some kind of Full Metal Jacket crap? She still performed well, and seemed to calm down a bit over the course of the set, but it ended up being quite short. They apparently had a fill-in bass player who didn't usually play that instrument, and this was the first time we saw her with a saxophone player, although he mostly played keyboard. Somehow we ended up sitting in the exact same seats as we did when we saw Ben Folds at the same venue. Since it's October, they had a lot of Halloween decorations up in town.
We had some pizza before the show, and the window of the place had this monster slice on the window.

The following weekend, we traveled to Pennsylvania to visit two amusement parks, and a lot of stuff went wrong. Knoebels was doing Hallo-Fun, and we left home later than we'd wanted to. Then there was a long line of cars just to get in, as it didn't seem like the traffic lights were set up to handle that much traffic. We were there for two hours or so. It was pretty fun when we actually got inside, but we didn't have time to do that much.

We rode the Rock-O-Plane, an old sort of ride that was new there this year. It loads sort of like a Ferris Wheel, with only a certain amount of cars low enough at any time for people to get in and out of them. The cars rock around, although you can stop them from doing so with a brake.

I believe it was also the first time we rode their Tea Cups, which were the same sort of ride that Beth knew as a Crazy Daisy.

And the line for the Phoenix had this graveyard for old rides.

We didn't get a chance to go on the Haunted Pioneer Train, which had a really long line.


Dorney Park, which we visited on Sunday, has Halloween Haunt, and I took another picture of Beth with the puking pumpkin.

They have a new ride, the Iron Menace, a roller coaster with a straight vertical drop.

The park has a backstory for this ride involving the fictional McTavish Steel, whose owner died under mysterious circumstances and went on to haunt the old mill. There actually is a McTavish Steelworks in Manitoba. To fit the theme, they also redesigned the nearby glider ride and changed the name to MT Buckets.

We also rode the Cedar Creek Cannonball, which last year we hadn't realized was going to close early for the Halloween events.

And it was the hundredth anniversary of the Thunderhawk. We visited two of the temporary haunted houses, Blackout and Blood on the Bayou. The former was introduced as a candy factory, but was really just a bunch of dark rooms. I guess the introduction was just misdirection, although a candy-themed haunted attraction could have been interesting. The latter was based around a pop culture representation of Louisiana that's probably nothing like the actual place, including alligators and fortune tellers.

And we saw part of a show by a group called the Spectral Sisters, who were pretty similar to the Puppini Sisters, doing swing versions of pop songs, including 10,000 Maniacs' "Because the Night," Heart's "Crazy on You," and Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Bad Moon Rising."


Thursday the seventeenth was Nightfall at Green-Wood Cemetery, which includes a mix of things, both displays and performances. It seemed like there wasn't as much as in previous years, although that could have just been our timing or the paths we took. The ways through the graveyard are marked off with lights, but some of them do branch off. There were performers from the Bindlestiff Family Cirkus, a one-man band who played "Tequila" and a sword swallower.

Morbid Anatomy did a series of lectures, of which we heard the one about Ra's journey through the underworld in Egyptian mythology, as told in the Amduat; and another on symbols of time and mortality in funerary decoration. And a band was playing songs from the earlier part of the twentieth century, the ones we were there for being from the 1910s and 1930s, with a different lead singer for each.


We visited South Jersey this past weekend, and did a few Halloween-related activities while there.

On Friday, we went to the Creamy Acres Night of Terror, which consists of a hayride and three walkthroughs. From what I remember, it was pretty much the same as last year.

There was a drive-through called Glow in Washington Township, which was a bunch of light displays loosely themed around old Route 66, although some of them didn't seem to relate to much of anything.

It had monsters and other seasonal stuff, but wasn't scary in the sense of people jumping out at you or anything; you just drove through and looked.

And that night, we went to Terror at the Junkyard for the Scullville Fire Department in Egg Harbor, which involved driving along a lot of dark roads, rather scarier than the maze or hayride, but obviously not as theatrical.

One performer seemed particularly into his role, stomping on the wagon and singing a song about waking the dead. And that's about all that's worth writing about for now, but there should be some more later in the month.

Beth made a kind of last-minute decision last week that we should see the Freaks on Parade Tour with Rob Zombie and Alice Cooper, neither of whom we're that familiar with as musicians, although I think we've seen all of the movies Rob has directed; she's kind of an apologist for them. It was at the PNC Bank Arts Center in Holmdel, New Jersey, which is right off the Garden State Parkway, and has free parking. We noticed people tailgating in the parking lot, and there were a few vehicles with Trump flags, which seemed kind of out of place. I know Alice, while usually not vocal about his politics, said something in favor of George W. Bush at one point, but still. After getting into the venue, Beth got a cheeseburger and I got a hot dog, and I didn't think mine was that great as far as hot dogs go, but whatever. I was hungry. I guess Rob isn't like Morrissey in imposing his veganism on the venues where he plays. There were a total of four acts on stage during the show, with Filter and Ministry as openers. Beth recognized one song by the former, and I don't think either of us knew the latter.

They did do a song called "Goddamn White Trash," so I wonder what the Trump flag people thought of that, if indeed they were there.

Alice is an entertaining performer, with gimmicks including a snake on his shoulders for "Snakebite" a dancing monster for "Feed My Frankenstein," and a straight jacket for "Ballad of Dwight Fry."

Towards the end of the show, he did an illusion of being beheaded in a guillotine, with his wife Sheryl in a Marie Antoinette costume dancing with his head afterwards.

He closed with "School's Out," which makes sense as the song everybody knows, but less so in that it's right after Labor Day. Surely that's in the same category as wearing white shoes. It included a bit of Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall." Rob's performance was also heavy on props and media, with video screens playing in the background during every song. During "Well, Everybody's Fucking in a UFO," there were both a big alien statue and a dancer dressed as an alien onstage.

There was also a lot of fire.

I wasn't familiar with most of the set, but I had heard "More Human Than Human" before, and the closer was "Dragula," which Beth and I decided was our late cat Reagan's favorite song. I suspect the "Lords of Salem" song was in the movie, and they showed clips from the film during it, but it hadn't stuck with me. Looking at the setlist, Rob is definitely good at coming up with evocative song titles, mostly in keeping with his love of old horror movies. And two of the ones he did at that show were based on puns about Dracula. It was pretty different from most of the concerts we go to, but it was definitely an entertaining experience. While we took a bus from the parking lot to the gates (which, by the way, was playing "Dragula"), but the buses were slow to arrive coming back, so we joined a bunch of other people in just walking there.

Last weekend was the Monster-Mania Convention in Cherry Hill, and we went on Saturday. I'm sure I've already written about how there aren't as many question-and-answer panels as there used to be, and I don't know whether this is because the convention organizers don't want to do them or the guests don't. The first two panels this time were with Craig Sheffer and William Fichtner, neither of whom we really knew, although they were both in some movies we've seen. The latter was a guy the Joker killed near the beginning of The Dark Knight.

The third was Heather Langenkamp, who talked among other things about how it was kind of weird to show her son A Nightmare on Elm Street for the first time, although she doesn't have a problem with kids watching horror movies.

For the longer panels, the first had Melissa Barrera, Tony Revolori, and Marley Shelton, who were in some of the later Scream movies.

The final session was a Hellraiser reunion with Doug Bradley, Ashley Laurence, Simon Bamford, Barbie Wilde, and Nicholas Vince.

Clive Barker was at the convention, but couldn't attend the panel for health reasons. There was some discussion of the Hulu remake, and a few of them mentioned that they liked the aesthetic, but not how much it differed from the original story, and downplayed the original BDSM themes. I'd heard something before about how the first movie was really more about Julia, but people liked Pinhead so much that he basically took over the franchise, even though he's usually a supporting character. Bradley also talked a bit about Barker's screenplay for Hellraiser III, which ended up not being made for weird legal reasons. It would have had Pinhead being resurrected in a vat in a church, and the Great Pyramid turning out to be a Lament Configuration housing the first Cenobite. Instead, we got CD-Head.

The air conditioning in my car hasn't been working. Actually, what happens is that it works at first, but soon cuts out after I start driving. I took it to the dealer, and they said it would cost upwards of $3000 to get it fixed, and it didn't seem worth it. It's definitely made for some uncomfortable rides, however. It hasn't just been incredibly hot in this area recently, but the air just feels gross and oppressive even when it isn't that hot. It makes me want to leave the apartment even less than usual. At the convention, it was warm even inside the hotel for the first few panels, then too cold in the bigger room for the last two.

While down in South Jersey, we went to a Spirit Halloween, and I took my usual pictures of costumes with weird generic names. And it isn't even just rip-offs of copyrighted characters that get these names. They're not even particularly funny, just odd.

Just don't say "Undead Guy" three times.

I guess the difference between a classic and a sassy nurse is slightly shorter stockings? Or is it the needle?

And is a bull scarecrow a real thing? There was an Oz book where the Scarecrow was turned into a bear, but not a bull.

It's been ages since I wrote a life update post. I have a draft saved of something I wrote at the end of April, so I'm going to incorporate that, but not lead with it. I think the most significant thing is that Beth's uncle's dog Mabel died last week. She was one of a litter of three, one of whom was adopted by Beth and the third by another uncle; but Clancy stayed in South Jersey when we moved to Secaucus and then Brooklyn.

He's the only one who's still alive, and he's not doing that well. They're three-quarters Chihuahua and one-quarter Jack Russell Terrier, but it's Clancy who shows the latter the most. He's still nervous like a Chihuahua, but he's stocky instead of tiny. Mabel was a sweet girl, if a little too eager to assert her authority when she thought other pets were after her stuff. When Nellie lived there, she took a liking to Mabel and tried to play with her, but she wasn't that interested. So anyway, that's really sad. Poor little Mabel.


The last two times we visited Beth's family, we took both cats down with us. Felix is pretty outgoing when he's down there, but getting him into the cat carrier is difficult. He's surprisingly slippery for such a big cat. The time before last, when we were trying to leave, Nellie hid under a pile of bags, and I'm not sure she would have been able to get out on her own. When she's not scared, she spends a lot of time lying on her side, often in doorways.


On Sunday, 28 April, we made a trip to Great Adventure. We have season passes, and had to get them redeemed. As it was, we got there pretty late, and didn't have the chance to ride much stuff. We were further frustrated by how so many rides now won't just let you leave your stuff on the side when you get on. Two years ago, this was the case with the Joker and Jersey Devil, but I figured that was because they were rides that didn't stop to let the passengers on. But now it's also the case with Superman, which was never like that before. There are lockers you can use at each ride, but they cost money, and that seems like a cash grab. We haven't been back since then, and we need to in order to get our money's worth. The fact that it's been oppressively hot recently has not been conducive to theme park visits. We also want to go back to Knoebels at some point, and to Knotts Berry Farm when we're in California for OzCon.


The Saturday before last was the Mermaid Parade on Coney Island, which we attended despite the heat. It was pretty harsh, but not as much so as I'd heard predicted, so I guess that's something. I always take a lot of pictures and have trouble deciding which are my favorites. I did notice a few recurring themes that I used when sharing pictures on Instagram, including rockets, ships, sharks, environmentalism, and food and drinks.

I recognized the mermaid in the wheelbarrow from last year.

There were also at least two different Ursulas, someone with a bird head and an egg, a family of goldfish, Frog Mario, and Prince with tentacles (Octoprince?).

We had hot dogs from Nathan's before the parade, which worked out a lot better than trying to get them afterwards. There used to be a Nathan's cart near where I worked, but I haven't seen it there since the pandemic. And I saw this guy with Luigi's body and Mario's clothes, but not as part of the parade.

I did get more engagement on Instagram than is typical for me, but I guess I'd also look for pictures of myself if I were in the parade. I'm also on Threads now, although that's basically just an extension of Facebook and Instagram, isn't it? Bluesky is my main Twitter substitute now, and even there I probably post more replies than original thoughts. I pretty much just put links to my posts on actual Twitter these days. (And yeah, I know it's technically not Twitter anymore, but does anyone who doesn't own stock in it call it X?)

I've reached the part in Final Fantasy X where I got to ride an airship and meet this game's version of Cid.

I did take note of something that seems to happen a lot in video games, which TV Tropes calls Gameplay and Story Segregation, where the party's strength in a cutscene doesn't really match up with what happens in battle. You fight several guys with guns on the way to reach where Yuna is being held captive, then one guy with one gun stops the whole group from approaching her. And why do both this and FF9 have a part where your healer is out of commission?

I guess that's all for now. I want to write something about the screwed-up situation in American politics, but that should probably get its own post. For now, I'll leave you with Beth and Slowpoke.