Bonfires

 Halloween time.  Harvest.  The leaves are turning color as they die and wither.

This weekend was travel and experience.  Friday night, I drove five hours to southern Delaware.  Ended up in a crappy hotel in Lewes, and went to Buffalo Wild Wings for dinner and to watch a bit of Game one of the World Series (go Phils!).  My older brother (OB) joined me at my invitation for a bit.  We were polite to each other.

We were both in southern Delaware for related reasons.  Saturday, right around noon, both of us, my Wife and Daughter, and OB's wife (and hyperactive dog) met at my Dad's place.  The Penn State-Ohio State game was coming on, but that's not why we were there.  We'd come together to scatter the majority of Mum's ashes over the water of Indian River Bay, thus fulfilling part of her post-mortem wishes.  

Dad wanted to save some of the ashes, so I took a sandwich bag, and, with his help, scooped some of the ashes into it.  With its seal, this would keep them from spilling.  We then put the bag into one of mum's favorite little chests (she kept so many), and I inserted the small metal ID cremation tag to the side of it.  Then, we all went outside to the end of the pier.  There was a slight breeze.  I carried the bag with mum's ashes, and when he was ready, dad took the bag, said a few words, and spread the ashes over the water.  I took some time to reflect as the wind and water carried the ashes away.  

Back inside, Dad, Wife, Daughter and I sat and watched some of the Penn State game while dad's dog tried to chew off my foot.  Dad had two tv's going- one in the kitchen, where he normally sits, and the big one in the living room.  That TV, despite being cable, kept showing lines and signs of interference.  Dad said he didn't know why.

I do.  Mum was there with us.  it was a rare moment when both her kids (or her granddaughter) were in the house, and so she wanted to be there.  At one point, I went into the kitchen and that small tv started doing the same thing.  I spoke quietly to her, letting her know that I knew she was there, and that I missed her.

Dad found another of mum's jewelry boxes in a closet- the one I remember from when I was a kid.  My sister in law, Daughter, and I looked through it.  From it, I took a clan hat pin.  I'll come back to that.

Eventually, it was time to go.  I dropped Wife and Daughter back at her car (they drove down separately, and we met in Lewes), and started my long journey back to State College.  It was midafternoon, and I listened to Penn State lose on the radio, then to other music as I drove north then northwest as the sun set.  

As twilight and gloaming set in, I was in the farmlands of north Delaware, southern Pennsylvania, and Amish country.  I noticed that often the countryside was cloudy- hazy- smoky.  Then I saw them.  Bonfires.  Here and there in the fields, bonfires were springing up, small and large.  People were preparing for their Halloween parties.  After all, with Halloween being Monday, the parties would be Saturday night (assuming that the local covens wouldn't have their Samhain fires easily seen from the highway.)   

I thought of the fun the idea of the parties implied, and the menace that the Halloween bonfires originally were intended to ward off.  The idea of people partying and dancing in costumes as the bonfire warded off the chill and the evil spirits.  The magic of fellowship and spirits liquid and ethereal.  What spells and connections would be forged as strangers like myself sped by in the night?  

Fires leave ashes and memories, and may be scattered on wind and water.  Or forgotten as love.

I arrived back at State College around 8, long after the night settled.  Many RVs were still in the tailgating areas, and yes, small fires burned in the night.  My back hurt from the drive as I settled on the couch with the pin I took and my old tam.  I bought the tam back in 1990 at some Scottish games.  It's the colors of my clan: MacIntosh.  I rarely wear it today, but keep it on the hat stand in case I want to.  I attached mum's pin to it, so now it's a proper tam.

In any case, Happy Halloween and Blessed Samhain.  May it be safe, and your bonfire keep you warm.

White Out and Sundry

This past weekend was Homecoming at Penn State, and, unlike last year, Homecoming was the "White Out" game.  That means a LOT of people, a night game, and a definite electricity all week on campus.  Homecoming week is usually special, but adding White Out makes it more.  Add to that the beautiful weather and the trees reaching peak colors... one couldn't ask for anything more.

I didn't have tickets (I couldn't afford them), but I knew that my fraternity was having an alumni tailgate.  Last year I couldn't find it, and felt deceived.  This year, should I bother even trying?  I could stay at the apartment and do nothing (aside from the Halloween decoration project I was working on.  I wrote about that HERE.)  

I've wallowing in self pity, Imposter syndrome, and self-hate for weeks (years?) and not doing anything.  Immobilized.  So I started working on old projects and such to try to do ANYTHING.  So, I decided to shower, shave (first time for either since Tuesday), get out the fucking door, and go to the tailgate, where people probably wouldn't care if I showed up anyway.  However, I brought a bucket of Fireball shot bottles, so at least I would feel like I contributed SOMETHING.  The house supplied a buffet.

So it was that I boarded a bus to campus, so I didn't have to walk the whole way.  I still ended up walking a couple of miles that day, but not two plus miles each way.  I hoped to get lots of pictures, and I did.  I walked through the rich folks tailgating area next to the stadium, wondering at the huge spreads and elaborate RVs.  While searching for the Alumni RV, I encountered the people I met last year (but didn't write about), and they remembered me!  That felt good.  I found the fraternity tailgate easily enough- it was mostly people from the late 70s and early 80, but one from my time, as well as several undergrads.  It was mellow-ish.  One of the recent grads misgendered me so I returned the favor by calling him "Pledge", which he didn't like, but he got the hint after a couple of times.

I ended up doing seven of those fireball shots with various people and drank 3 beers (plus food and water), so I was feeling fairly good as I left the tailgate.  The sun was setting, and the crowd was flowing toward the stadium as I walked the opposite way toward the bus stop, taking more photos.  On the bus ride back, a college girl was passed out cold on the seat across from me.  I knew she was alive as I saw her breathing.  In any case, as we approached one of the apartments near mine, she woke with a start, and exited at the stop.  

After arriving back at the lair, I had a little more to eat and a LOT of water.  Linda and I watched the game, ate pizza, and flipped to the Phillies game during time outs and the half.  The Phillies won, and would win the pennant the next night, so they're going to the World Series.

Monday night was a strange night here on campus.  One of the MAGA student groups invited the founder of the Proud Boys and another fascist to come speak (recruit), so there was a large student protest.  (I was ready to attend, but fell asleep attempting to read PhD stuff and missed it.) In any case, the Proud Boys body slammed a woman, then fired pepper spray at students and police.  After that, the event was cancelled.  Gee, Proud boys becoming violent/  Who woulda thunk it?  Eyeroll.  Still, the fascists got their money and publicity, and blamed antifa for the violence.  (Hint: antifa wasn't there.)  

In any case, I've been sick as a dog the past few days.  Sleeping a lot.  It's not covid (I did a test.)  So I've continued to be useless.  Go figure.

Be well.

Scitman

Back in summer 1982, so much was changing in my world.  I was fifteen, with sixteen (and a driver's license) so tantalizingly close.  Some of my friends already were driving, and I envied their freedom.  They could leave this town and go to exotic places like MALLS and such without their parents.  It was the summer before my junior year in high school.  Local cable started carrying MTV which was brash, bold, and new at the time.  I was in my first summer of working at Burger King: a job which would define my high school 'social life' such as it was.  

And I was cross-dressing.  Whenever my parents went to the house down in Delaware, I stole chances to be feminine.  I'd ordered clothes from the Sears catalogue and used water balloons for boobs.  I felt what I was doing was absolutely wrong, and I didn't understand the compulsion.  I knew it was dangerous, and that the consequences for being caught would be extreme.

Still, I had a small group of friends- kind of two.  One group was the "D&D group" which consisted of Dr2Dave and another guy (who is now an MD), as well as "R".  I'm still friends with two of them.  The other group was among a group who orbited around a rather large baby faced guy we called Scitman.

Scitman was tall and very strong.  He was a lineman on the school football team, an outdoor sports enthusiast, and a genuinely nice guy.  However, among this particular group, Scitman was best known for his ability to belch, loud and long.  He could belch the entire alphabet at one go.  Childish, I know, but we were in our early teens.  

Occasionally joining us (usually on the basketball court) was a girl I'll call Pam.  Pam was tall, athletic (varsity girl's basketball) and incredibly smart.  In fact she was one of the top three of our class in GPA.  I think she had a crush on another guy in the group, who I'll call Bill.  Bill was also an outdoor enthusiast, loved basketball and bad jokes.  In any case, usually the group was me, Bill, and Scitman.  

Original Page One pencils

Back then, I really wanted to be a comic writer/artist.  I was also very much into D&D (go figure.)  In addition, I REALLY wanted people to like me, despite me being undersized and, well, different.  After all, I had this dark secret: cross dressing!  (Ominous crash of thunder).  I'd done a few short subject comics in ninth grade for my friends, and was published in the local newspaper for a while.  One day I bought a hardcover sketchbook and decided to fill it with a comic- a D&D comic, but one that people would like (D&D wasn't popular then.)  

And so Scitman the Barbarian was born.  I'd draw two or three pages at a time, usually while watching MTV.  On days that I wasn't working, I'd walk over the bridge to Royersford (where Scitman and the others lived, and try to find them- which I usually did, at the basketball courts.  There I'd show them the new pages, hoping to get laughs.  Sometimes I did- sometimes I didn't.  In any case, I enjoyed doing it, and saw the book as practice for my hopeful career. 

Page One Inked

Some of the poses I blatantly stole from Frank Miller's Daredevil, in both books I and II.  Also, some of the scenes have graphic violence, which was a way for me to release all the anger and frustration, as well as helplessness I felt.  Unfortunately, a few characters late in book I (a little in book II as well) are crude stereotypes that my 15 year old small town mind found amusing.  Looking at them now, I cringe.  Still, I'll ink them as drawn, and note that it was inappropriate then and now (like they do on Looney Tunes cartoon compilations.)  In any case, it's not like anyone will see them, as I don't intend to publish them.  This is an exercise in completion for me.

I finished the first book on July 29, 1982.  98 pages of cartoons- all in artists pencils.  My little circle loved it.  I bought another sketchbook and started on a sequel, imaginatively titled Scitman the Barbarian Book II.  

All Three Scitman books

I was a junior in high school.  Burger King had become my social life.  I was writing to various colleges for information (this was pre-internet) as I knew college was my only hope of escaping the small town where I was trapped.  People heard about Scitman, and the book was passed around the school.  In addition, I was practicing art and developing a portfolio.  Consequently, Scitman II had some new characters, again based on people I knew, new monsters and character types, and better artwork.  Looking back now at the two finished books, I could see the progression of my art as I did my best to improve my anatomical art and other aspects.  I finished Scitman II on April 22, 1983.  Would I continue?  Of course!  

This time, I couldn't find a sketchbook of similar size, so I bought a bigger one.  I decided that Scitman III would be inked and in color, but quickly abandoned that thought.  In this book, there were some new characters and villains, these taken from my BK friends among others.  I finished 56 pages of that book before stopping.  I'd fallen into deep depression after deciding to stop that cross-dressing foolishness and be a man.  In addition, I started training to be an Emergency Medical Technician.  And so, the Scitman saga ended.

From Scitman II

For my 10th high school reunion in 1995, I managed to photocopy (poorly) Scitman I, and gave copies to a few of the friends who appeared in it.  I didn't go to art school and wasn't a comic book writer artist.  I was selling toy soldiers for Games Workshop.  I dreamed of inking the books and somehow scanning them into a computer someday.  

Maybe five years ago, I bought artists pens from the book store where I worked.  I started inking Scitman, as I noticed the pencils were fading away after years in storage.  I didn't get far.  Recently, I broke out the pens again, and have been working on it again.  I'm more than 1/4 way through inking Scitman I now.  

From Scitman III

Time and transition has separated me from those friends.  All of them graduated from college and have lives and families.  At least one, Chuck, is dead.  I intend to finish inking at least book 1, and scan it in to the computer.  If I can finish both I and II, I'll then send the books to Scitman, whom I haven't spoken to in decades.  I think he'd still get a kick out of them.  After all, that was the point.  

Reading these books, I still see the kid craving attention, scared of what the future may hold.  In some ways, I'm still that kid- desperate to please others and craving acceptance.  However, I know now that acceptance will take more than me scribbling pictures- I'm just not that good at it.  I gave up on achieving acceptance long ago, as I never will.  Now, I just want peace.

In any case, in some universe somewhere, Scitman the Barbarian lives on, even if not from my pen.

(Addendum: I finished inking book 1 on Oct 31, 2022, over 40 years after I finished the pencil work.)

Be well.

From Scitman II

Spookiness Season

We've all made it to October, people.  The hated month of September (at least it is for me) is over, and now autumn rots into place.  Here in the mountains, the leaves are changing, and the air is crisp. (For how long, remains to be seen.)  It's harvest time, or, as I prefer, the season of Death.  

And Halloween.

Yes, my few long time readers know how much I LOVE Halloween.  It used to be the only time I could be myself with no consequences.  Before my "re-discovery" in 2008, Halloween was the time when I could be anything else in the world except my hated asshole self.  Also- parties!  Seeing what my friends, co-workers, whatever, concocted as their alter-ego for the night always made the party special.  Back in college, the annual Halloween party was a huge affair (how could it not be with a fraternity called Skull?) with a combine party with SAE, Chi-O, and Tri Delt.  SAE was another top house, while Chi-O and Tri Delt were top sororities.  It's funny- of the four houses that comprised those parties, only mine remains active at PSU.  The other three have been kicked off.  In any case, the Halloween party was one of the few times in school that I actually stood a chance of hooking up, as I dressed in a tuxedo shirt, bow tie, and Vampire cape.  I looked pretty sharp, I do say so myself!

Halloween 1988.  Chi O pledge.  No idea who she was.

For a few years in a row, I helped organize and decorate for a party at my friend/co-worker/savior Cat's place.  I did my best to make the parties memorable, from making Halloween themed CDs (not played too loud- they were never dance parties) to décor to themed foods.  Of course, the help from others always made it more special.  These parties were mostly for my book store peeps, but I expanded the guest list to others I knew (and that others knew.)  Several times after 2008, I thought about inviting friends from my transgender life, but I decided that would be dangerous- especially since I attended a few of these parties in dresses! (Like THIS ONE) (And THIS one).  And that's not counting the huge annual Henri David Ball on Halloween night!

Henri David '09

One of the non-book store people who attended was Michelle.  I met Michelle in the early 90s, when I worked for Chessex Game Distributors.  She ran (if not by title, then definitely by function) Total Confusion, a game convention in Massachusetts, along with her then husband.  She was the person who handled vendors, and I was there selling Chessex dice and such.  We hit it off and have been friends since.  In any case, she is a talented chef, especially with lasagna (but not bacon), and she helped make incredible food and added her delightful personality to the mix.  Also, she has a thick Bahstin accent, for which I tease her endlessly.  By sheer coincidence (yeah right), I'm typing this on her birthday, October 10.  Happy birthday, Michelle!  Hope it's wikid fun!

Halloween at Cat's 2010

So now I'm back at PSU, and have been for a few years.  Last year, I attended Rocky Horror Picture Show at the State Theater with Linda.  I dressed up a little for that.  This year, I won't be attending, as the showing is over the weekend before Halloween.

That weekend, I'll be heading south to Delaware, where my dad, Older Brother, his wife, and my Wife and daughter will scatter my Mums ashes over the water, as she wished.  Two- thirds of them anyway.  One third of them are in my apartment, awaiting either shipment or to be carried over to Scotland, where they will be spread in a memorial garden with her parents and sister.  My overall plan was to do that scattering today.  You see, October 10 is also my Mum's birthday- she would've been 83 had she not died in January.  I wanted so much to have her home for her birthday, but I failed her.  Shipping ashes to the UK is expensive, as it must be done by courier.  It's actually cheaper to fly over with Mum's ashes in my lap!  Money is always tight, so it didn't happen.  I'll keep saving, and doing my best to get her there.  

In any case, it's October.  The Veil between worlds is thinning.  Soon the dead will silently skulk around us.  Maybe even break dancing, who knows?

Be well!