A Proper Update

I don't think I've ever mentioned on this here blog that from January to December of 2025 I was working at the local board of elections, making it both a county (Frederick) and a state (Maryland) job.  Things started off well -- I really admired the overall mission, and I liked my coworkers.  However, it quickly became apparent that everyone in management was a) toxic b) very stupid or c) both.

Don't take my word for it!  I went to state level HR multiple times and all of my complaints were considered valid.  Right before last Christmas the director let me know I was being asked to leave.  I got a letter saying it was purely for budgetary reasons and not for cause.  Thing is, that's bullshit because with the 2026 primary and general elections approaching this is actually the busiest time of the year.

Still don't take my word for it?  This past January I was contacted by Maryland HR.  They wanted me to come in for a meeting with two members of the Board of Directors.  A number of other employees were complaining about the a) toxic and b) very stupid atmosphere of the place.  I went in for a 90 minute meeting and said my piece.  The place is run by lazy dummies who are holding on until they qualify for full pensions.

So getting shit-canned (ahem, "let go") sucks, especially right before Christmas.  But I had been applying for other jobs, and got one with the Department of Juvenile Services.  I'll make this even shorter -- I was hired as a juvenile detention warden ("Resident Advisor").  On my second day, with no proper training other than "don't defend yourself if you are assaulted," I was, uh -- assaulted.  The properly trained R.A. who observed the incident started laughing his ass off about it.  I quit that moment.  (This all took place as the beginning of April.)

So anyhow, goodbye Maryland.  I understand that nice things cost taxes, but to pay Maryland-level taxes and actually observe, in two different locations, incredibly shitty levels of competence was a bit of a wake-up call.  Not to mention the fact that while Frederick, Maryland made sense for my dad's needs regarding seeing his family, he's unfortunately gone now.  And honestly, Frederick is a lot more bad than it is good.  With its MAGA criminal sheriff and high schools with unresolved gang-rapes, it's time for a change.  By my back-of-the-envelope calculations, I'll start saving about 30 to 40 thousand a year just in state and property taxes.  (For what it's worth, North Carolina does have state income tax but it's much more reasonable.)

I'm having some work done on my house in preparation for a sale.  I might need to replace the roof, which would be expensive, but that's just the way it is.  This summer I'm going to start looking for a new house somewhere in or west of Wilmington, North Carolina.  It's not retirement, yet -- at the very least I'm qualified to substitute teach down there until I find something else.  But I am in a good position financially, and at 51 I'm planning on retiring long before I hit 60.

I'm excited.  I think my cats are too.  I want to walk on the beach at least three of four times a week and take the same damn picture of the ocean over and over again.  Also, barbecue.

Always more to say, but I think this is a good enough explanation for now.  Wish me luck!

Maryland Diners: Bonnie's at the Red Byrd, Keedysville Maryland

So this one's a little bit of a culinary curveball (baseball season has started!).  I was driving to visit Antietam Battlefield when I spotted this place just outside of Sharpsburg.  I decided I would heartily nosh there after my battlefield visit.  It was good, but weird, as have been most of my Maryland diner visits so far!

Saturday Caturday

Chingu in the sun.

"not as inevitable as we think it is"

"This is Minimalism's most powerful and frightening insight. It has nothing to do with the aesthetic cues associated with lowercase-m minimalism, the consumer products, interior decoration, the curated items of clothing. Minimalism doesn't need to look good. It tries to make us understand that the sense of artistic beauty humanity has built up over millennia -- the varieties of colors, stories recounted, and bodies represented -- is also an artificial creation, not as inevitable as we think it is.

Minimalism requires a new definition of beauty, one that centers on the fundamental miracle of our moment-to-moment encounter with reality, our sense of being itself. Any attempt at elegance is extraneous. [Donald] Judd left another note in his diary that winter: 'A definition of art finally occurred to me. Art is everything at once.'"

-- Kyle Chayka, The Longing for Less -- Living with Minimalism

Happy Confederate Surrender Day!

 

I'm a day late to Confederate Surrender Day, but really I just wanted an excuse to post this image.

And speaking of college sports, am I wrong to think the last few NCAA basketball tournaments have been criminally bereft of upsets?  I mean, I guess the seeders are getting better at their jobs.  That's a shame.

Skully

Frederick, Maryland.

Maryland Diners: Kountry Kitchen, Thurmont Maryland

So, I'm noticing a few things as I continue to review Maryland Diners.  (As a reminder, I once reviewed every diner in Whatcom County, Washington.)  Eggs Benedict, my go-to choice for seeing if a kitchen can handle simple but significant orders, are not nearly as popular here in Maryland as they were back in Bellingham.  So my second go-to, the club sandwich (the exhibitionist of sandwiches) has often become my choice since I moved back east a few years ago.  Second, Maryland diners don't play music.  Or at least the ones I've visited don't.  Seems a shame, really.  Anyhow, let's see how things went at the Kountry Kitchen!

Antietam Battlefield

Some pictures from a recent trip to Antietam Battlefield about 20 minutes west of Frederick.  At top is the infamous Cornfield, where the day's fighting started for the most part.  Next is a monument dedicated to Clara Barton who worked to help the wounded and dying throughout the day (and later to found the Red Cross).

Project Hail Mary: Wut I Thunk

The Martian Part II this is not.  Yes, the hero is a snarky nerd guy who has to science the fuck out of various math, velocity, and (here) chemistry issues to save the Earth.  But (mild spoiler, but if you've seen the trailer you already know) now he has an alien companion.  Basically, it's a buddy movie in space.  And it works very well, maybe better than it should.  A younger me would probably complain about how cheesy bits of it are.  Older me was quite satisfied to sit back and enjoy the ride.  It's 2026.  I can't blame anybody for wanting a little more grace (ahem), a little more teamwork in this life.  It mostly nails the landing too, but there's one small change from the novel that I think hurts the overall product maybe just a bit.  Still though, if you don't leave this one smiling (maybe cheering a little inside?) your heart is a lump of inert metal.  It's science.

Five bump-fists out of five!

Something New

I'm starting a new job this Wednesday.  It's been nice to have a little time off, and a relief to have gotten out of a very toxic previous work situation.  It's going to be tough, but I'm excited to be doing something new.  It's -- education adjacent, I guess you could say.  It also pays well and offers full benefits.

We'll see how it goes!

Reluctant Spring

The first blossoms are out, but It's supposed to be 40 degrees tomorrow.

Guess we need to take what we can get.  The birds are out too though.

"a Big Mac in a cornfield in Kansas"

"Back in the plane, alone with Quintana, I took one of the hamburgers the teenagers had brought and tore it into pieces so that she and I could share. After a few bites she shook her head. She had been allowed solid food for only a week or so and could not eat more. There was still a feeding tube in place in case she could not eat at all.

'Am I going to make it,' she asked then.

I chose to believe that she was asking if she would make it to New York.

'Definitely,' I told her.

I'm here. You're safe.

Definitely she would be okay in California, I remembered telling her five weeks before.

That night when we arrived at the Rusk Institute Gerry and Tony were waiting outside to meet the ambulance. Gerry asked how the flight had been. I said that we had shared a Big Mac in a cornfield in Kansas. 'It wasn't a Big Mac,' Quintana said. 'It was a Quarter Pounder.'"

-- Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

RIP Len Deighton

Len Deighton, master spy novelist, visual artist. World War II vet, published cookbook author, and the first to use a computer to publish a novel, has left us at 97.

He was one of my Dad's favorite writers.  During his last few years as we lived together, I read the Game, Set, Match trilogy, among others, and got to share my interest in these books with him.  Dad wasn't capable of reading full-blown novels any more, but he definitely remembered the characters and their triumphs and shortcomings.  Our best moments together came, as always, through conversations about life or, in a pinch, about art.

"If ever this motorcycle..."

My little mini-project these days is to replenish my stock of 90s and 00s music, much of which was eaten by iTunes over the years.  (iTunes is awful. Do not use iTunes.)

Anyhow, Amazon for used CDs ain't bad.

And this album (EP?) oozes filth and creativity.

"a cold touch in the midst of the familiar"

"I want to talk here about two stories dealing with the archetype of the Bad Place, one good, one great. As it happens, both deal with haunted houses. Fair enough, I think; haunted cars and railway stations are nasty, but your house is the place put your shield away. Our homes are the places where we allow ourselves the ultimate vulnerability: they are the places where we take off our clothes and go to sleep with no guard on watch (except perhaps for those ever more popular drones of modern society, the smoke-detector and the burglar alarm). Robert Frost said home is the place that, when you go there, they have to take you in. The old aphorisms say that home is where the heart is, there's no place like home, that a heap of lovin' can make a house a home. We are abjured to keep the home fires burning, and when fighter pilots finish their missions they radio that they are 'coming home.' And even if you are a stranger in a strange land, you can usually find a restaurant that will temporarily assuage your homesickness as well as your hunger with a big plate of home-cooked fries.

It doesn't hurt to emphasize again that horror fiction is a cold touch in the midst of the familiar, and good horror fiction applies this cold touch with sudden, unexpected pressure. When we go home and shoot the bolt on the door, we like to think we're locking trouble out. The good horror story about the Bad Place whispers that we are not locking the world out; we are locking ourselves in ... with them."

-- Stephen King, Danse Macabre

So Cute, So Obstreperous

Chingu doesn't have any rent money for this month.  Typical.

How to Make a Killing -- Wut I Thunk

A strong premise and strong first half -- nice guy decides he does, in fact, deserve to inherit his horrible family's fortune by way of serial murder.  This film soars when it gets into just how insufferable the idle rich can be.  The second half stumbles though, loses a lot of energy, when it starts to feel a bit formulaic.  Not dark enough for a dark comedy, not quite as interesting of a love triangle as the director thinks.  Still, enough laugh-out-loud moments to carry us through and root for a murderer.

Three White Basquiats out of five!

Epstein Epstein Epstein

Another war with Iran, all to cover up millions of unreleased Epstein documents.  Also, to somehow re-"eradicate" their nuclear program.

Sad!

Ready for Spring

Snow happens, but as of today the stuff has finally melted away.  It's just been really damn cold.  It's still pretty gray and gloomy but maybe also just that hint of February mud turning to some March sunshine.  Chingu and Mandu are ready to stare out the windows at some birds and wabbits and blue skies.

Wuthering Heights -- Wut I Thunk

Oh my, this is one horny movie.  Over the top?  Yes.  Trashy?  Kinda!  But there's no doubt about the commitment here to really focus on the infernal power of Heathcliff and Catherine's desire -- let's face it, lust -- for each other.  If you're looking for faithfulness to the book you won't find it here, especially in the second half.  But there's something to be said for what the film actually captures.  To put it another way, this movie being ridiculous only confirms that the novel is as well.  It worked for me, but probably won't work for a lot of purists.

Four steamy carriage windows out of five!

"shrieking in several languages"

"At one time or another, most of us have arrived at a gorgeous concert hall with whole afternoon to relax, prior to a leisurely and professional soundcheck in a spectacularly sumptuous hotel room within walking distance. You have the which everything works, everyone can hear everyone, the coffee is fresh, and you can't think of anything to complain about. Then to dinner, in agreeable company, before the short walk back to the dressing room in a gentle and balmy Mediterranean breeze. The sea shimmers in the distance, the crowd seems on fire with anticipation, and a pleasant phone-call home establishes that all is well back at Central Command. The gig is rubbish.

Conversely, the equipment arrives late in some dirty, smelly dump; the backstage sustenance you wouldn't offer a dog, and there's no coffee anyway, hot or cold. The soundcheck is a lot of shrieking in several languages to a background of a wall of electronic feedback, your head is killing you, Iberia lost your suitcase, and they are letting in the punters in seven minutes, so dinner is out of the question. What do you get? A blinding gig."

-- Bill Bruford: The Autobiography

Send Help -- Wut I Thunk

So it's Castway but two people are stranded -- a put-upon office worker and her horrible frat-bro boss.  And it's really hard to talk about it more without spoiling.  This is the definition of a movie that you should see with as little information as possible before going in.  Rachel McAdams doesn't hesitate to go full mousy and a bit gross.  Dylan O'brien plays up his assholish-ness to the hilt.  From there, we go in about five different directions with a truly brilliant script.  At the end you might not like anybody on offer here, but that's the point.  Survival is, indeed, a winner-take-all proposition.

Five conch shells out of five!

Harper's Ferry, West Virginia

First picture is looking roughly east into Virginia and Maryland.  Third picture is Jefferson Rock, visited by Thomas Jefferson himself.

Snowpocalypse!

Mandu says, "bring it on!"

Hiking in Gambrill Park

Surprisingly muddy!

Inside Ravens Stadium

A relative got some tickets for a PR event at Ravens Stadium.  I've actually never been there, even for a game, and it was a fun time.

Kind of a curveball blogging-wise, but interesting to see the operations of a place like this.

South Mountain National Battlefield

The Battle of South Mountain was a series of engagements that took place just before the Union's costly victory at Antietam to the west a few days later.  It's a nice little park but maybe not the best example of a walking battlefield.  (Try Antietam!)  It also overlaps with the Appalachian Trail.

Marty Supreme: Wut I Thunk (Spoilers)

Timothy Chalamet is great as a 1950's ping-pong hustler who dreams of something greater.  The script doesn't do him favors though, as this thing is way too long.  Tyler the Creator is also great in support.  The thing this ping-pong movie needed though?  More ping-pong and fewer shootings and stabbings.  It really didn't need a body-count in general.

Three wooden, not foam, paddles out of five!

"words that bloom forth like flowers"

"They arrive unperceived at first, and the children

 Rush toward them, but the joy is too bright, too blinding, 

And man shies away, even a demigod hardly knows

 What to call them, they who approach him with gifts.

But great is the courage they bring, their joys fill

 His heart, he hardly knows what to make of this wealth;

He fiddles around and he wastes it, almost thinking the unholy holy,

 That which he kindly and foolishly touches with his blessing hand.

The heavenly bear this as much as they can; but they

 Themselves then come in truth, and men grow accustomed to joy

And the day and beholding those manifest, the faces of those

 Who were named long ago the One and the All, and who

Filled the silent breasts deeply with contentment so free,

 And were first and alone to satisfy every desire.

Thus is man; when the wealth is there, and a god himself

 Provides him with gifts, he won't see it and remains unaware.

First he must bear it; now, though, he names what is dearest,

 Now he needs words, words that bloom forth like flowers."

Friedrich Hölderlin, Bread and Wine stanza 5, trans. Nick Hoff