The Observer

I write like I'm a camera in any situation. Hovering above the characters in the room, I'm above the drama, just observing. (When I say "above the drama," I don't mean I'm better than the drama, just that I witness it from far away) When I think back on memories, my eye sight is from the corner of the room, near the ceiling. I'm in a tree, the unseen observer. I'm in the back seat of the car, watching the driver and I have a conversation. 

Live Music Will Save the World

A few weekends ago, we took a giant risk with some of our friends and went to a music festival in Chicago. It felt like a trip that took about 9 years from start to finish. 

It was June 2020, we were having our first socially distanced outside hangout with some of our best friends. It was already a very exciting day. The pandemic was raging on, it seemed like half the country was determined to keep it going, and we were losing hope while watching movies over Zoom with our friends. 

But on this day, we got together on a deck, sitting 10 feet apart, yelling toward each other as we drank White Claws. We were seeing real people in real life. Ryan broached the topic first. 

Riot Fest was offering incredibly discounted tickets for the 2020 Riot Fest with a disclaimer that it may get cancelled or moved depending on 

1. If we had a vaccine
2. If enough of the country got the vaccine to actually create herd immunity
3. If we got close enough to herd immunity for the virus to not mutate

Only number 1 happened, so Riot Fest was pushed to 2021. And based on how things were going in 2021, I was expecting Riot Fest to not happen this year. But Ryan sort of said, it would be nice to have a little hope and it was low risk. So we bought tickets. 

Better Life Through Science

After a very brutal six months on acne medication when I was 15 and after seeing the effects of one of my high-school buddies being overly medicated, I sort of went through life trying to avoid medications when I felt it wasn't necessary. 

After I broke my leg, I had to detox from painkillers and muscle relaxers. It was one of the worst things I've ever gone through. Even worst than the surgery. Cold sweats, phantom pains my body would produce so I would want to take more, crying for no reason, nausea. I can see why people move on from pain killers to heroin. Once the dosage doesn't do it for you anymore, you will do anything not to feel the way detoxing from them feels.

I found a local south city doctor through an old friend of mine at Wells Fargo. My old doctor was fine. I liked him, he tended to tell me to do Yoga to fix most things. I liked that he didn't immediately jump to pills. And that worked for me when I was in my mid-20s. I felt like everything was still in front of me, so no matter how hard things were, I would bounce back. I was invincible!

Newbie, a "Story"

Tragedy seems to come in waves. You can have years of happiness and luck, your grief receptors get dull, and then when the wave hits, you don't expect it. Every time something happens, you feel a cosmic fist punch you right in the throat and while you're recovering from being stunned, your brain has time to think, "well god dammit."

For the second time in 3 months, I'm doing the incredibly sad and confusing ride for the final vet visit.

Monsters and Creatures and Spooks

We rented a lot of VHS tapes from the library when I was younger. It's not like today where the library actually has a pretty decent selection of DVDs. These were mostly VHS tapes of movies that were 40+ years old at the time. 

My first experiences with the Three Stooges, Abbott and Costello, and the Little Rascals were all thanks to the library's collection. 

We'd rush home, pop the VHS tape in, let the automatic tracking work it's butt off to make some semblance of a picture, and then listen to the terrible sound mixing, on a worn out tape, on a TV with just OK speakers. And people wonder why I have such a passion for film. 

Some of the films I rented were the classic Universal Monster films. I found out about Frankenstein, the
Mummy, and Dracula via Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein and a 1980s movie called "Monster Squad." But every now and then, my mom would let us get a "scary" movie like the Canterville Ghost or The Mummy. 

The Scholastic book fair also had a really cool "How to Draw Monsters" book that was incredibly popular. 

I thought the monster designs were incredible and wanted to see the origins. Well... the library didn't have most of the origin films. Instead of Frankenstein, they have Son of Frankenstein. Instead of Dracula, they had Dracula's Castle. But it didn't matter. I was 10 and thought I was so cool. I loved these movies. 

I always had this vague idea for a tattoo that would feature the Universal Monsters. I couldn't decide if I wanted it down my arm, on my chest, or on my back. Well, I finally decided to pull the trigger and worked with my artist on a design and it pretty much takes up my entire back.

Once I had Frankenstein done, I got a craving to watch these old films and see if they hold up. So here's my review of both the film and the corresponding tattoos.

Why do I have this crap?

Being locked inside the past year has really highlighted how much crap we've accumulated over the past 10 years. When you look around the house for a place to put a few hand weights and get a workout in and it requires you moving stuff, it's not a good sign. 

The walls feel like they are closing in on us. The house small. So, we've slowly been working our way through things. 

Photos and Posters

We've been accumulating a pile of posters of various sizes that we kept saying we would get framed some day. 

We've spent the past 10 years (I'm not lying, it's 10 years of True/False posters) just moving this pile of posters from room to room. Well, we sucked it up, paid the price (it was too much), and are getting them framed finally. 

I'm carrying around dusty and faded Walgreens' envelopes that contain poorly shot photos of my 8th grade graduation. There's the high-school senior camping trip, shot on a disposable camera on a particularly hot June night where not a single one of my friends isn't a sweaty mess. 

These things bring warm memories, but why do I have a plastic tub I haul out of storage in the basement every few years to flip through a few envelopes and say, "Yep, these pictures are still here."

I've been using an app by Google called Photo Scan which takes 4 pictures of your actual photo and stiches them together to give you a high res, low glare digital image. 

That's right, I'm going fully digital. And I'm not going to stop at pictures. I'll probably do concert tickets, cards I've kept over the years, maybe even some drawings I have. 

Junk Drawers

We started going through various junk drawers. We have six lighters, two of them work. Throw away the other four. 

There's four screws buried in the back of the drawer that look like they went to some patio furniture, but I can't figure out what. Gone!

We had a freaking key ring that looked like a cartoon janitors key ring. Some of them are labeled with people's names, but most of those people have moved 2-3 times in the past five or so years. The likelihood that any of these keys work, is pretty low. 

The spare garage door opener... why do I have this? 

1. Someone broke my garage door a long time ago trying to open it with the latch done up
2. My garage hasn't had electricity in it for years. (Been waiting for a storm knock that shit over and let me get a new one)

I've got a stack of broken down boxes for graphics cards for my old desktop computer, the old Chromebook, LEGO sets. Why am I keeping this stuff? What drives a person to think, "You know, someday, I may pull the RAM out of my computer and I might need a place to store them."

And then there's the box of wires. Yes, the trusty box of wires. Why do I need 8 VGA cables when I have 0 monitors that use them? What about my 32 micro-USB cords for phones we haven't had in years? What about that one Apple cord that appears to be for a forth Gen iPod? Throw it all out. 

Kitchen Junk

We used to go to a lot of beer festivals and special pourings. So I have an overly full cabinet (s) with various tulip glasses, pint glasses, sampler glasses, tall girl glasses, pilsner glasses... we don't need it. Anymore, I drink beer from the can most the time. At the very least, I only need one or two of each type. 

Same goes for mugs. There was one Christmas where Sal really wanted some nice mugs and I think literally everyone bought her a set of mugs. I'm decently popular, but I don't know if I'm ever making coffee for more than like 8 people at a time. I don't need 14 mugs just in case I host a small coffee party. 

And how many years did the company we worked for think, "You know what would really inspire my employees, a knock-off Yeti tumbler with the company logo on it." Sorry Wells Fargo, I don't have any room in my cabinet for your crap anymore.

And gadgets... single use gadgets. In the moment, that apple slicer sounds like a great idea, but I also have $100 knives that do the same job in almost the same amount of time. 

Why do I have 3 food torches? (Does anyone want a nice food torch still in box?) I eat French Onion soup maybe 3 times a year and barely ever make desserts or cocktails that would require a torch, yet I have three of them. 

Hobbies of Years Past

I bought a workout bench, it was cheap and had too many attachments. I couldn't use it. Gone. Sold for $20.

Pickling was something Sal picked up for a bit, but we haven't touched that stuff in a couple years. Gone!

The giant drafting table I used for drawing, it's collecting dust and taking up space. I'll try to sell that in a few weeks. 

Brewing. I miss brewing. I like brewing a lot. Unfortunately most of my friends that I used to do it with got jobs at actual breweries and don't do it for fun anymore. 

I still kicked the tires on it every now and then and would do a brew on a day off until all my grain got infected with bugs. I tossed the ingredients. So I either need to invest a few hundred dollars in ingredients and CO2 and replacement hoses or I need to cut my losses and sell my equipment. 

With my knee and how busy I usually am, I just don't have the time or strength to do brewing anymore.

Essentially I don't want to end up 60 years old with a garage and basement full of stuff I don't use, stuff that I move from house to house with that one scenario in the back of my mind where I might need a PlayStation 3 power cord or I wish I kept that wire drawer. 

I find the less stuff I have, generally the happier I am. Having stuff makes me feel like I need more stuff. 

So if you're looking for some good stuff, check the Goodwill in the city cause we've been making weekly deposits there.  

Slider, a "Story"

March 8th

It's Monday night when I started writing this. It's a document of the emotions I'm going through this week. Something to preserve the human to pet relationship. I'm not going to look back on the previous days, just to try and preserve the uncut emotions and human psyche as they happen. I don't know why I want to do this, but it feels like something I need to do. 

This black cloud is hanging over my head. 

We're waiting to take Slider to the vet for an ultrasound on Thursday. 

He's lost 2 lbs. His liver numbers are off. The vet says it may be cancer in his intestine or stomach. Maybe it's liver disease. Maybe it's nothing. But the prospect that my guy might not be here is tearing me to pieces. I wish I just knew one way or another, so I could either sigh in relief or start the grieving process.

But right now, I have my best friend of 13 years, laying in my lap between me and the computer as he always does, while I type just some memories that are coming to mind. 

The funny thing is, this used to annoy the living hell out of me, He would position himself to get petted while I typed. Right now, I love it. 

I'd love to tell you these stories in person, but I'm too busy ugly crying and only getting every third word out when I think about a world without Slider. 

I was never a cat person. Most of the cats I had come into contact with growing up were either skittish and would run away (Newbie) or standoffish (Crash) and would hiss and scratch. 

We originally got Slider in Myrtle Beach on February 4, 2008. Sallie and I had adult jobs and were leaving crash for long periods of time. And for some reason, we thought Crash needed/wanted a friend. We went to the shelter in Myrtle Beach to look at cats. I actually wanted this female tabby cat at the Humane Society, Sal was the one that talked me into Slider. 

Slider was incredibly skittish at first. He hid under our couch for the first two days we had him. Finally, irritated that we may have picked out a defective cat, I lifted the couch up from one end while Sal snatched the kitten up. He hissed until she cradled him in her arms and started petting him. This was the moment we created the attention seeking star of the show. Slider started purring madly, and from that day on, we couldn't do anything without Slider wanting to be a part of it. 

The day before we moved from Myrtle Beach back to St. Louis, I decided to let Slider play in the grass. he had never left the confines of our 750 square foot apartment. He was terrified at first. Heart beating. Unsure of what the wind was. Looking to me for any sort of evidence of what to do, he eventually put his front paws into the grass. He loved it. I created another monster, an outdoor loving monster. 

We moved back to St. Louis and took Slider on his first play date with a non-Crash cat. (Turns out, Crash never needed a buddy and honestly, didn't want one) Slider met his cousin Nibbler for the first time and the two hit it off. They ran around the apartment together, snuggled in the same bed making one large mega-tabby. That bastard Nibbler created another monster, he taught Slider how to meow. 

I can't count the amount of dinner parties or game nights he would throw off track by hopping on the middle of the dinner table, upset that the room's attention was not on him. 

I couldn't just go outside and take the trash out because the little bastard would always try to run between my legs to escape.

And there are too many nights to count, where at 3 am, for no discernible reason, he'd climb on top of me and just scream. 

As much as I like to complain about how much of a monster he could be, Slider is the best cat you could ask for. Just incredibly personable, charming, and lovable. 

Where we warn people not to approach Crash. Newbie bolts for the basement as soon as the door opens. Slider was front and center. Please, handle him, man handle him, do whatever you want, cause he just wants to be part of the conversation. 

March 9th

I'm trying to stay positive, but I'm starting to think of all the "normal" Slider things that he's stopped

doing. Anytime Slider felt like you needed a boost, he'd bring one of his stuffed cats to you. Every morning, I'd hear him grunting with an obviously full mouth, only to have him drop his stuffed tiger at my feet in my office, looking for his pet in return. 

Every night, the same grunt, but this time his Beanie Baby tiger, dropped in bed next to me.

He hasn't done that for a few weeks. I only now just realized it. If this is actually the end, one of the hardest things is going to be seeing those stuffed animals around the house for the next few days. I'll probably build some sort of Slider shrine with those stuffed animals when he does pass.

I'm going to miss him being in my face. I'm going to miss the way he would walk between my legs and wrap his tail around my shin, as if he was watching my back. 

It was always hardest to leave Slider on my business trips. (Sorry Sal, I think you handled me being gone better. Slider could not handle that.) He would get so forlorn and just mope around the house until I returned. 

When I spent 3 months in Madison to train for my job, I think he had given up on me ever returning. Sal would sometimes put me on speaker phone and I could hear him running around the house screaming for me. 

I opened the door first after being gone for those three months. He was at the top of the stairs, expecting Sal. But who was this? He froze, unsure if he was seeing what he was seeing. We locked eyes and I just said, "hey buddy" and he leaped down the entire flight of stairs into my arms, rubbing beards, and purring as if life had meaning again. 

None of you will ever beat that as a welcoming back home. There's just no way for a human to compete with the complete trust and unconditional love an animal can give you. 

March 10th

Slider's energy levels are low right now. We're hoping if we can get him to start eating, they will peak
again. But he doesn't come upstairs as much as he used to. He doesn't try to sleep in bed with us. 

I let him outside. He enjoyed the sunshine. He somehow escaped briefly and I caught him licking a chicken wing in the alleyway. If whatever sickness this is doesn't do him in, surely the rotavirus he just got from this trash wing will. 

One of his favorite outside games is "playing stick." I'd basically rip a 4 foot stick off the tree line and tap it on the ground while he tried to kill it. He only had the energy to go after it a couple times. You could see in his eyes he wanted to murder that stick, but his body just wasn't cooperating.

Evening: Sal and I are listening to R.E.M. over the stereo system in the living room. Neither of us had to say that we were going to do it, we just knew it was right. We wanted to be around Slider. 

In the best case scenario, he's sick, and we've comforted him for a few nights and we can get him back to health. In the worst case scenario, he's dying and I want him to have the best possible week he can.

When I said we get unconditional love, there's one condition. Your animal trusts you to make decisions for them. That's part of the contract right? They expect that if they are in pain and there's not a way to manage it, you'll be the ultimate decision. 

It'll be difficult. It'll be traumatic. That is why I'm writing these thoughts down now. I don't know if I will be able to do it if we have to put Slider down Thursday, but I want to get words down to remember the good times. 

We decided to set the projector up on the main floor so we could spend some time with Slider since he isn't coming upstairs as much. He got time outside today. He's been getting non-stop attention for 3 hours now. He's eaten roughly 7 cans of meat just today. I hate thinking this could be my last night with him, but I want to make sure we don't waste it. 

I hope egg is on my face and this ends up being some dumb thing like he ate part of a plastic bag that is causing issues. But I don't know, this feels like peace. This feels like everyone in the room knows what's happening.

March 11th

Slider usually sleeps on top of my feet. For someone that tosses and turns a lot, this is usually annoying, but again, I find that I miss it. I carried him up the stairs last night and he seemed happy. We snuggled. He slept on me. He's been sleeping in the tightest ball possible, seemingly to stay warm, on the main floor the past few nights. Last night, he's stretched as long as he could on top of me, just like the old times. 

We were due to take him to the vet between 8-8:30. I woke up before 6 am. I wanted to have a quiet
morning with him. As soon as I tossed a little, he started biting my beard like he used to all the time.

Slider has always been incredibly maternal. When we brought Newbie in the house as a kitten, Slider would bath him and show him where the food was. 

This is one of my favorite pictures of our cats. Just two very content boys looking out the open window. Newbie appears to be reaching over to give Slider a bath, but really, they are helping each other out of their collars. 

Sometimes they would fight, but don't all brothers? They were rarely in different rooms. They always came as a pair. We would have what I lovingly referred to as "boy hangs." Both guys would find a way to pile on top of me while we hung out. 

They were my pack. 

We sat on the couch together in quiet reflection this morning. There's a thunderstorm going on outside. It's a downpour. The type of downpour where Slider would for some reason really want to go outside. Today, we just sit here. Newbie shows up at some point and just hangs out. 

Slider finds his voice again and is meowing like he used to. I haven't heard his voice in at least a week. He bites my forearm as I pet him. It's just like the old times. Actually I hope it's just like the "times." He's acting the more normal he has in weeks. Other than seeming a little unsure of his footing, he's being the lovable jerk he usually is. 

Maybe it's false hope. Maybe I'm just looking for any signs I can. Maybe he knows he's sick and he's trying to put on a good face. But I have some hope today. I'm glad to have this reflective time with best friend of 13 years. 

The sun came out for the 15 minute ride to the vet. It is warm. There are rainbows. We can still smell the rain. Just the most ideal weather for St. Louis.

Evening: It was worst case scenario. Slider had some sort of cancer that had run rampant in his digestive system. The vet said it was a matter of days, maybe a week or two at best, but Slider was going to die one way or another. She said he probably wasn't in pain now. He probably just felt like he had the flu. But that could change at any time and there wasn't much we could do. 

The vet let us into the building to say goodbye. My boy let me hold him one last time. Pet his head between his ears. He was calm. I think he knew it was time. We were not. After they gave him the first shot to sort of put him in a daze, I had to leave. Sal stayed for the whole thing. She's much braver than I am. 

I went to the car and ugly cried just repeatedly saying, "fuck" over and over again. The rain continued. No one could see me. It was my first time true isolation. And a year of frustration, sadness, anger, and heartbreak all came out. It's the most I've cried since I was 13 the night before my best friends funeral. 

Night: Slider passed away at 2:37 pm on 3/11/2021. He was calm and went gracefully. 

I've been alternating between remembering funny stories and crying all night. I think it may be that way for a while. 

Is it worth having a pet and going through this just absolute heartbreak? Absolutely. There wouldn't be the heartbreak if there weren't so many good memories. So many times your animal just comforted you. So many times you realized you were part of this pack that no one else was a part of. 

As much as my heart aches tonight, I would gladly take in another pet like Slider. He made me a better person.

The King of the Cats. 

My best friend. 

Grandma Marler, a story

Continuing my walk through memory lane, we unfortunately had to celebrate the life of Grandma Marler (Sal's maternal grandma) only a few weeks back. 

For those of you who never were graced with her presence, imagine up a grandma that would always have cookies in the oven, one that you wouldn't dare say a curse word near, but if you did say a curse word, she'd playfully reprimand you by saying, "you're just terrible."

Grandma Marler would always approach looking for a hug, but when done with the hug, she would find a way to hold onto your arm or shoulder. She loved long physical embraces and I allowed it. And if you know anything about me and how uncomfortable hugs and physical embraces make me, you know this means she had a magical touch. 

Every year at Chili Christmas, I knew to expect Grandma and Clyde slightly earlier than the other guests. There's a part of me (and part of my ego) and believes this was so we could get some one on one time, because when Grandma Marler had a discussion with you, she listened to every word you had to say. She took it all in. And Chili Christmas was one of the few opportunities we had to get some one on one time. Every other event we were both at included like 28 other people. 

Anyway, most of my stories about grandma are just sort of the saccharine and sweet catchup chats. 

But there is one legacy that will live on in my hands and my hands only. (Until I pass it to someone else)

One of our combined Hickle/Marler (Leonard) family events where a big meal was being prepped, I was of course enlisted to help as the token chopper/stirring assistant for all the grandmas. 

I was chopping some vegetables when Grandma Marler sort of called over my shoulder, "Mr. Dan, would you please come over here, I would like to show you something."

I turn around and she has some pan drippings in a small saucepan and a whisk being held, handle out, toward me. "Go ahead, take it. Today, I'm going to show you how to make my gravy."

Now, you're thinking homemade gravy: drippings, flour, and pepper, right? WRONG! WRONG WRONG WRONG! Well, actually kind of right, but also so wrong. 

Yes, the ingredients are drippings, flour, and pepper, but grandma transferred some sort of magic to my hands that day that only I possess. 

I had made gravy in the past that was good, but this was great. Ever since that day, any event where there's drippings, I get out my sauce pan, I whisk whisk whisk with one hand, while throwing flour and pepper with the other, whisk whisk whisk, and then we're ready for some delicious sauce on everything. 

So, for the rest of my life, everytime I whip gravy up, I'm going to have Grandma Marler in my brain for at least that moment. 

Ann Rigby, a story

"You don't take pictures of the bad times, you only take them of the good times." - Dan Rigby

I always have these weird fantasies where someone is going to call me out of nowhere to speak and fill time. So anytime I'm at an event, while you're talking to me and probably passing on valuable information, I'm day dreaming about what I would say if I had to get in front of a room of people and win them over. 

Unfortunately, two people I knew have passed away in recent weeks. Even though these are somber events, I still had a story in my back pocket. (I don't take a break for sadness, for happiness, for exhaustion, keep that in mind next time you need someone to fill a speech role) Since I didn't get to share them during the services, I'll share them via my blog over the next week or two.