Good morning good morning wow issue #1900. One hundred more days and we will be at 2,000. Madness. but that is… 5 issues a week, so… eh, 20 weeks? Well when you put it like that, quite a ways off. Never mind.

Man I am not looking forward to reality and work this morning. I’m sitting at my computer and have peeked at my email and oh god, oh god, everything is terrible why did I take a week off why do I have to come back where did you come from where did you go cotton eyed joe.

That song seems racist. I never heard it before that oughts techno version. Or was it the 90’s. No one goes around Alaska in the 80’s singing “Cotton-eyed Joe.” Okay I have read the Wikipedia page it does not seem to be racist. As you were.

It was my dad’s birthday on Saturday. I miss that guy. Recently, a friend of mine constructed one of those online quizzes, and it was about “what kind of dad are you.” I got some answer that was about “finding your own way” and “not doing things like the past,” and I felt kind of bad about it, because it felt like I was repudiating my dad and his dadding. He was a great dad. I was really repudiating Alaska in the 70’s. My dad was such an exception to all of that though. Real honest and kind dude. And he valued honesty and kindness and fairness. Life of service and dedication. So much charity work. So many friends. So much unconditional love.

It is stinky mushroom season here in North Carolina. Everywhere I go: stinky mushrooms. I forget about this season every year. Eventually you crack and start trying to find the stinky mushroom by your front door or driveway or whatever. I can never seem to find them.

Congratulations to Lula — does he even have a first name? Four terms, beat the dictator nepo baby even in the face of massive suppression and disinformation. Was close for a while there. It is still horrific how close it is if you think about it. But a much needed balm after the catastrophic British Columbia elections. Man. You think Canadians are all nice n shit then they go and do something like that. And Serbia! Another lovely win for democracy and humanity. Two for three, I’ll take it. God. Imagine if we sweep the midterms. Imagine. Fuck, man. I am getting nervous. Something is going to go wrong. Eight more days eight more days.

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We’re listening to the new William Basinski, Passing the Cup of Sorrows. It is very beautiful and hautning and sparse. Boy his music sure is different from his curmudgeonly Bluesky presence. Lovely album. Play it at my funeral.

Do not play it at my funeral. But I did read an interesting thread from a funeral director that said that families stress unduly about choosing a song to play at loved ones’ funerals and everyone should make it very clear what song they want played at their funeral. Tell everyone.

I used to always think I wanted “Lay Me Low” by Nick Cave but I don’t think I want that anymore because Nick is, I dunno, man, I dunno. He’s not aging badly, but he’s always right on the edge of turning into a boomer. It’s stressful. Nick Cave stresses me out. So now, I don’t know. I’d say “Thank you, Friends” by Big Star but that whole Jesus Christ part seems a bit much for a funeral. “Untitled” by the Cure, maybe.

That’ll get ‘em weeping.

Chore Week is over, closed out with a bang. If the first seven days of Chore Week went as smoothly as the last three, it would have been marvelous. Chores flowed by like water, those last few days. Even with all the other social obligations of the weekend.

The drip irrigation is leak-free and fully functioning in the greenhouse. Lettuce and tulips and snow peas and garlic has been planted for the winter. Cameras have finally (finally!) been installed on the gate to Chore House.

I think, in the end, I got about half the chores done that I set out to do. Chore Week should have been Chore Fortnight. Oh shit that has a great ring to it.

Next year, next year.

We had a Trunk-or-Treat at Jane’s school and Emma volunteered the Lightning for it, decked out the frunk in a bunch of spooky decor, put her and Jane in Alien costumes, Jane in a fashion show from the thrift store. Kids everywhere, impromptu dance party in the back of the truck, seeing lots of parent friends, having a long chat with a cop. God I felt so normal and it was kind of fun. I had missed trunk-or-treat last year I was probably at a funeral. And I thought it was next weekend since, you know, next weekend is halloween. So I was mentally unprepared for it, given Chore Week and all my goals. But once I got there and got into the groove, it was a great time. I am invested. I started taking notes for next year.

On Saturday we had Jane’s birthday party which was, once again, held at our house and this year it was space-themed. Her birthday’s tomorrow! Lots of friends, lots of kids, SO MUCH CHEESE. Seriously I think I spent like $150 on cheese and another $100 on cured meats. I used the label-maker to label them all. It was my contribution to things. CHEESE.

Nick and Meghan and Henry came for the weekend, and that was nice. Good friends lingered as the party ended and we all had nice chats into the evening and it was just great. And even better, like excellent house guests they had their own sunday agenda, going to Greensboro to see some other friends, so I could work on MORE CHORES. Perfect, perfect. They got back round 9 last night and we had another lovely little hang sesh by the fire. Who could ask for anything more. My cup is full. Except when it comes to politics.

Jane had a lovely weekend, she’s been great, no major tantrums. Happy to see everyone. It was fascinating watching her and her friends play at her birthday. Kids are… man their friendships are very different than adult ones. Stuff happens so fast. Things come and go and are forgotten about that would ruin an adult friendship for a decade. And they just whizz by. Really is amazing. Humans are amazing.

No playlists done yet — but man, I have such a backlog of listening for this week. I did get a little time last night to doomscroll while watching Youtube music videos, so here. You might enjoy this. Fontaines DC playing at an In-N-Out. Supposedly. I dunno, man. That doesn’t seem like any In-N-Out I’ve ever been to….

Talk tomorrow. LOVE YOU.