[Flying Sparks

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Chapter 2 “Hazardous? I’ll show that manipulative, misanthropic, anti-establishment cretin just what hazardous means if he thinks I’m going to fold on this!” The sound of vigorous guitar riffs made a fitting accompaniment to the angry tirade despite originating on opposite sides of the communal area. Ama was glaring at a laptop that sat on a stained oak desk shoved against the large table near the kitchen. She tapped a fingernail on the wood as she read through the alert. “And what violation of basic human dignity has her royal prudishness’s undies in a bunch?” Em demanded with an affected sneer without looking up from his guitar scales. “Oh you’ll agree with this one tree-hugger,” Drake muttered from where he sat oiling his work boots. “Yeah,” Donny piped up, “Finney is trying to kill a perfectly healthy fir.” “What!” Em demanded, carefully placing his battered old acoustic guitar down in its case and darting over to look at the computer screen. “You mean apark tree?” Despite her simmering frustration Ama allowed a small smile to flicker across her face as she continued to type. “Get out of your pajamas and I’ll tell you,” Drake ordered pointing towards the bathroom door with a stained rag. “School starts in forty-five minutes and you still have breakfast and chores. That goes for you too Pip-squirt.” “I hope you washed your hands before you touched our food,” Em said with a frown. “Boot grease makes a great source of fatty acids.” Drake retorted. “Now go!” The two smaller boys muttered in annoyance but stumbled off to follow orders. “So what is up?” the youth asked as he bent his head back over the smooth leather of his boots. “Mrs. Finney wants that tree down that’s blocking her perfect view of Crescent Lake.” Ama replied in a dry tone. “One that’s clearly on park property?” Drake asked. “Indeedy-do.” Ama replied giving the paper in front of her a glare. “So how’s she justifying it?” Drake asked. “As a safety hazard to her house.” Ama replied. “And?” The biologist groaned and rubbed her face. “As far as I can tell the trunk is perfectly healthy. There is an old trash can lid grown into the trunk and a little discolored sap is leaking out there.” “Frass?” “Watch your language!” Donny interjected as he darted up to the table. “Frass is not a bad word,” Drake stated. “Have you let the chickens out?” “Yes, what does frass mean?” Donny asked as he started piling stir-fry onto his plate. “Look it up.” Drake ordered him. “Emerald! Breakfast ends in ten minutes! Get your tukus down here!” “It’s bad health to rush meals,” Em snapped out as he came down a narrow stairway with deliberate slowness. “It’s even worse for your health to skip meals altogether,” Drake growled threateningly. “Shut it and give me some eggs.” Em snapped back. “Emerald Waters Undersun,” Drake hissed out through gritted teeth. “You are going to get your own eggs.” The boy threw himself into a chair and glared at Drake with challenge in every line of his body. “Emerald,” Ama said in a calm tone. “I think you should apologize to your cousin now.” “Sorry I disturbed you Ama,” he offered without breaking eye contact with Drake. “Not me, him,” Ama said. “Sorry you had to hear that Donny.” Em said. Ama heaved a sigh and closed her computer. “Emerald,” Ama said. “Do you want to eat or go hungry?” Drake demanded. Ama glanced at him with a familiar uneasy look in her eyes and Drake fought down a wince. “Now, Em.” she said in a patient tone. “I’ll go hungry,” Em snapped, jumping up and stalking over to the couch. Donny kept his eyes fixed on his plate. Ama heaved a sigh before turning back to her computer. Em wriggled on the couch for several minutes before skulking back to the table. Drake moved to intercept him but Ama stopped him with a look and he let Em serve himself. Drake cast irritated glances at the wall clock as the time crept more and more into school time. Ama closed her computer and stood, then sighed, sat and opened it again. “I need to pick out their report topics,” Ama muttered. “I could do it,” Drake offered. “You do quite enough,” Ama replied briskly, as she scanned the news. “Here you go. For Donny, malfunctions at the Lewis- McChord Air Force Base air show.” A frown creased her face. “Wow, this is pretty serious. It looks like the F-16 demonstration team nearly got killed.” Drake whistled and leaned over her shoulder. “Multiple system failures,” he read out loud. “I am pretty sure that isn’t supposed to happen.” “Nope,” Ama agreed. “Here is a topic on big game management for Em.” “Reports due by next week?” Drake asked as the old printer on the desk began to squeal and grumble as it powered up. “Same as usual,” Ama confirmed. Drake put the printouts on top of the homework pile and moved to wash up the breakfast dishes. “I need to get to work early today so you two be good for Drake,” she called out placing a quick kiss on top of the smaller boys’ heads and giving Drake’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Good luck with Mrs. Finney, and stay safe.” Drake called out as she went into her room. The table was cleaned off and wiped down and the clink of forks gave way to the steady scratch of pencils on paper. They broke for a recess after religion and then lunch after history and math, and by the time the Grandfather clock in the corner struck two the younger boys twitching with energy. Drake made certain the internet was disconnected at the router, and chased Donny and Em out into the garden. “And don’t come in until dark,” he ordered tossing two snack bags out after them. Donny as usual snatched his food and disappeared into the small orachard. Low grumbles about troglodytes and the Amish wandered out into the high corn following Em and Drake shook his head in exasperation wondering, not for the first time how the dark haired princeling came from the same gene pool as his little brother. The kitchen being mostly ordered Drake was turning to put the last random dirty sock in the hamper when a gnarled hand clutching a cane head appeared in the corner of his eye, causing his heart to make a valiant attempt to bolt out of his throat. “Abuelita!” he gasped forcing his hands down from the guard position. “Where did you come from?” Smoldering black eyes ran searchingly over the tall youth. An impossibly long mane of streaked silver and black hair was barely contained in a thick braid. A sharply pointed nose perched over a small wrinkled mouth. A vibrant red horse-hair serape hung over her shoulders concealing everything except her brown and gnarled hands which currently clutched the old tree branch she used as a cane. Drake had been more than a little comforted by the fact that both Em and Donny had admitted to having the thought ‘witch’ every time time they saw her as well. “From the hand of God by the bodies of my sainted mother and father,” she replied after a long, uncomfortable silence. She always spoke in a low husky voice that suggested years of smoking, though Drake had never smelled even stale smoke on her. “Right,” Drake blinked and grinned at the response; the one she always gave. “So you are here for their Spanish lesson? I have their grammar books ready and-” The narrow end of the tree branch rapped against the concrete of the floor causing Drake to jump. Abuelita glared at him, locking his gaze and holding him in place with it for a moment. “I am here for their lessons,” she finally stated, “and you are there for my payment.” Drake thought longingly of the repair and maintenance manuals in the cab of the truck and the new tool he was itching to try, but he forced a grin on his face. “Yes ma’am,” he said. “What can I get you today?” Abuelita pulled out a bag of woven grass from under her serape causing the indistinct patterns on the cloth to shift and change. “Take this,” she ordered him, “and collect me the cobalt blue berries that grow on a single stalk close to the ground. They must come from the mountain to the south east of here by the crystal brook.” Drake nodded, and took the little bag, he didn’t quite manage to infused his gestures with enthusiasm he supposed. The old woman, probably wouldn’t have noted it anyway. She turned and moved towards the garden door without waiting for any other reply. However she called out over her shoulder as he turned to find his own way out of the rambling structure. “Don’t dawdle little one. A storm brews in the distance.” He tried not to roll his eyes at that, the weather forecast was clear and eighties for the next week according to the morning fire report Ama had printed. The youth only nodded and slipped around the corner. He circled the barn and pulled a set of loose tan pants and tunic out of the cubby. The soft worn leather almost perfectly matched the forest floor for color as did the moccasins he pulled on after them. His morning running clothes were modern stuff that wicked the sweat away from him and let him speed through the forest. These were his free day clothes. The ones that let him disappear into the forest and wander. Abuelita, for all of her demands, would tend Em and Donny until he returned no matter how late that was, and with the Park’s yearly budget talks still under way it was highly unlikely Ama would be home until long after the sun had set. Despite still hearing the call of the half restored truck he felt something lossening in him already. The soft cotton and smooth leather rested easily against his skin and Drake slipped into the forest. Freedom; for the moment at least, blissful freedom. Pushing aside the guilt that accompanied the thought as well as any lingering worries about his charges the youth let his legs carry him through the trees. He shunned the man made paths, following the faint animal trails. This close to the barn they were as clear to him as if they were named city streets. Being animal trails, they invariably led him to water. Today he stopped at a trickling stream, took off his moccasins, and rolled up his pants legs. The youth turned and followed the thin flow of icy water upstream, letting it steal the heat from his body through his feet. Some distance upstream, the stream widened and pooled under a boulder. There Drake paused and pulled an old black compass out of his pocket. Behind him he knew every trail and tree. Ahead was a broad swath of National Wilderness he would have to cross, or possibly Bureau of Land Management or even state managed forests where he more rarely wandered. It was hard to tell where the boundaries were from the ground. The clearing he wanted for the berries was solidly in BLM land and he still had quite a ways to go to get there. The stand of timber that stood between him and his goal was dense with young tree and branches that frequently formed impenetrable hedges he had to track around and he checked his compass regularly as he climbed in elevation. Even so the youth found he had wandered too far off his route and had to correct when he spotted the boundary fence. However he was in no hurry and he reached the clearing long before the sun told him it was time to turn around. Sometime in the past some unknown force had carved a shallow trench across the side of one of the small mountains that that dotted the wilderness. It had puzzled Drake at first. The scour was at the wrong angle to be an old rock slide, and terminated in a near perfectly circular clearing at the lower end. Centuries old Douglas Firs abruptly gave way to a second ring only a few decades old. Those were in turn beginning to produce cones and a smattering of knee high saplings. The rest of the space was completely given over to wildflowers. No matter what season Drake visited it he found a riot of life. There had been an early spring and many herbs that normally would have waited a month or more were already in full bloom in the mountain meadow. A white wave of foamflower washed in from the deep forest surrounding the clearing, sending up knee high stalks covered in the delicate white blooms. Late trillium hid close to the roots of the great firs, many having shed their white corollas and begun to put forth their bulbous seed heads. Fuzzy white baneberry blossoms nodded gently in the breeze. A riot of yellow and purple spread across the ground as vetch and buttercups and a host of clovers competed for space in the open sun. Great stalks of lupine as high as his head thrust up their purple and blue proudly from thick clusters of palm shaped leaves. Pink shooting stars and violet harebells crouched under the protection of the larger plants. Indian paintbrush lit the scene with flames of red and orange. Where a spring seeped into the meadow elephant’s head flared neon pink and corydalis bushes put forth blushing blooms. Pale green wild orchids stood along the wet spot and the swarms of bees danced from them to the glacier lilies. Sometimes, as he bent over a tiny blossom and traced the intricate network of veins in the petals, drank in the scent, and felt the smooth surface of the leaves an otherworldly feeling would come over him. It was as if there was another world just out of range of his senses. If he could only really look, the thin illusion that was blocking him would slip away and reveal the real world underneath it. “Look Awiegwa,” his father would whisper, pointing at a deer mouse perched on a fallen log. “What does it see?” Awiegwa would screw up his face and squint. Trying to find the answer to the question. Awiegwa had often wondered how so many flowers had come to be in the relatively small area. He had identified dozens of species and there were more he had yet to determine. The clearing was always the first place to bloom and the last to go dormant. Many of the flowers seemed to utterly defy their usual blooming patterns. However, as time passed he had simply come to accept it. It was one of the small good things that brought back the memories of his father. If it didn’t quite follow the rules Ama had taught him, well an impossible clearing in the mountains wasn’t a place for rules. The particular bloom that Abuelita had requested had taken full advantage of the early sun and had already put forth a few cobalt blue berries; easily spotted at the edge of the clearing in the delicate sea of white flowers. However before he left the shade of the forest for the meadow the youth paused and closed his eyes. Bole wasn’t always here, but he was often enough that Awiegwa always checked for him. Carefully he reconstructed the clearing in his mind; marking every tree and boulder on the edge. Three years he had been coming here and each time it was easier to recreate the clearing. Breathing evenly he opened his eyes, letting the mental image merge with the actual. There was a brief moment of confusion as details like the play of light through branches and the trembling of small clusters of flowers fixed themselves but there was only one truly jarring note. Awiegwa didn’t let his eyes focus on the disparity; he never did anymore, but a warm smile spread across his features as he slipped silently into the meadow. He was here. As the youth moved in a low crouch, gathering the first fruits of the Queen’s Cup, he let his peripheral vision linger on a particular snag. There was nothing obviously interesting about it, other than the fact that it had not been there the last time Awiegwa was here. He had named the wanderer Bole, because it most often appeared as a thick tree trunk; sometimes living, sometimes dead. Occasionally it would be a boulder or simply a mound in the dirt. Often it wasn’t in the clearing at all. If the youth moved forward and tried to closely examine it he could never find anything to suggest it was something other than a tree or rock. He had thought about taking a sample occasionally, had taken his knife out to do just that more than once, but something always held him back. Bole was a part of this place. Dissecting him would be too much like attempting to dissect his sense of his father’s presence here. The youth had never told anyone about this place, not even Ama with who could get most things out of him easily enough. Down at the house, in town, when he was Drake; solid, reliable, first up in the morning, two grades ahead in school with a penchant for science Drake, a productive member of modern society with a promising future and his mother smiling at him. Here he could be Awiegwa. Here he could believe in the ancient medicines his father had dug out of dusty old tomes and brought to life from the forest litter. Every time Awiegwa left the clearing and headed back towards home reality would reassert itself. Bole would resolve back into a figment of his imagination, created from pride in a somewhat better than average memory and what the social workers had called an “intriguing imagination”. When he reached the house and become solidly Drake again flickers of embarrassment would begin eating at him for letting his senses trick him like that, but as long as the blooms nodded around him in this garden Bole could exist even on a Thursday. The little woven grass bag filled up with the berries fairly quickly and Awiegwa soon stretched out of his crouch and let his gaze wander contentedly over the clearing. As it always did, the warm space was working its special magic. Worries about Em getting out of his schoolwork, of not paying enough attention to the quiet Donny, of letting Ama see his petty resentments: it had all melted away from his muscles, thoughts of college costs and abandoning his duties dissolved into an acute sense of the now. The leaves rustled softly in a barely-there breeze, the heavy scent of some unidentified blossom filled his lungs, a dozen shades of green framed the rainbow of flowers, and over and above it all the creaking of the firs as the wind played over them. It was at times like these that he felth he could almost see into heaven; that something wonderful that existed just beyond his senses, and all he had to do was reach out and claim it. The youth took a deep breath and let himself fall backwards onto a handy rise in the forest floor. His path had taken him to the foot of the snag and he shifted slightly to align himself with the gnarled roots. One hand gripped a time smoothed root. “Ama trusted me enough to go out of state,” he murmured. “That’s the first time she’s done that. Usually she has Abulita stay with us to fend off the Harsh, but she said it’s long past legal now.” It was his imagination of course that made him think the root vibrated in his hand in response. Many a long hour he had spent in this clearing with the wanderer. He had poured out his frustrations and anguishes over life’s injustices, had shared his secrets as he grew, and had shouted his triumphs. Sometimes he felt closer to Bole than to any of his human friends. However, something that sounded like his mother’s voice warned him that there was something odd about this and that awareness was the main reason he had kept this place secret from Ama. Their mother hadn’t exactly liked stuff like that. She had never objected to his father’s digging up the old stories of her people. Making cross generational connections between elders, who more often than not lived isolated lives, and the next generation, was an admirable goal in of itself in her eyes; objectively a social good. Storytelling was only the natural course for these relationships to take, but subtle looks had warned even a very young Drake that it was best to cautious what he shared with his mother. At least of those things that couldn’t be placed on a microscope slide. So this was Awigewa’s place, and while his father’s spirit wanders the flowers with he had never felt his mother here. He let his focus drift up, and up. Dark blue Lupine nodded over his head framing the faint crisscross of jet contrails that threw a light haze over an otherwise cloudless sky. His clothed grew deliciously hot from the spring sun. The ground too had eagerly accepted the energy and now it conducted the heat into the muscles of his back. Bole’s wood beneath him was warmer even than the surrounding ground and an idle thought traced across Awiegwa’s awareness; something about it being odd for the light colored wood and relatively dry wood to retain more heat than the darker soil surrounding it. His mind was filled with the impression of a goal. He had been meaning to do, something. Something fun, yes, exploring, he’d meant to see if whatever had dug that den by the second boulder was cubing this year. He would just get up and do that in a minute. His back was so warm and comfortable.

[“Flying Sparks”

Another foray into the lives of Drake McCarty, Ama Love, and the rest of their siblings as they discover that something alien is out in the forest around their home.](https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/flying-sparks-a-novel-of-dragon-bear-and-boy/coming_soon)[https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/flying-sparks-a-novel-of-dragon-bear-and-boy/coming\_soon](https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/flying-sparks-a-novel-of-dragon-bear-and-boy/coming_soon) #FlyingSparks #ScienceFiction #Scifi #Story #novel #book #DrakeMcCarty #AmaLove #Donny #Em #Bard #Bole #Aliens #Spaceships #Crystals #fireflies #NPS #NationalPark #Doctor #Sever #family #storm #writing #reading #drama #literature #author #BettyAdams #DyingEmbers #Dragons #ThingsThatGoBoomp #Indiegogo #CrowdFunding

It's business day-Rush hour. In the big city, almost Christmas. Everyone is doing business. Handshakes, deals and meetings and guys running with pencils in their mouths- coffee runners bumping into one another.
Barbara goes walking into One particular building. It's rush hour, everyone is racing towards the elevators. "Shit. I'm definitely gonna be late...if I don't get this coffee to my boss- I'm gonna be fired." SMASH Boom. Bang!!!!! Barbara's coffee tray smashes into another tray of coffee. -barbara rushes into the bathroom. "Perfect. This isn't working." Barbara is trying to clean the disgusting coffee from her perfect outfit. Her perfect existence is way cooler than yours. She looks really stupid with coffee on her suit. "This is so dumb. I'm outta here"- she goes back to the lobby.
Guess what? All the elevators are taken. "AHHH JEEZ DUDE." It's maloñ the janitor - " you can take the old elevator it's at the end of the hall." He tells Barbara, "BUT it's only for people who are extra late - he continues cleaning poopie and throwup off the marble interior.
Barbara goes towards the eerie old elevator, but two other businesswomen are already there. They get into the elevator, disgusting long fingers and stupid nail polish and bracelets eww, she hits the 975930 button and the elevator shoots up like an amusement park ride yee haw. "Damn they got there first, and those gals weren't even LATE . everything bad always happens to me" Barbara exclaims. Why oh why? -screaming and smashing noises come from the inside of the elevator, coffee and blood drips from the elevator doors.
Maloñ comes back and the elevator opens and he tells the horrified Barbara -"that's the BonehuggaZ Elevator" he starts cleaning up the slime and gunk from the elevator. "Diet Pepsi and Coke ™ helps cleanin dis kind a stuff off the mawble, fawmers do it all da time dood" Barbara throws up and farts.

I'm quite confused because I thought PV was the acre-plus properties south of shea and north of camelback (basically - don't care about the details). But then there is the defunct Paradise Valley Mall several miles away, and even farther north there is a high school, golf course, college, and some other stuff by Paradise Valley Park. Why would anyone do this in a city other than to confuse people?? Are there more valleys of paradise that I am missing? I heard today that the Phoenician claims to be in Scottsdale. Do you people not understand how boundaries work?

I few traits I would use to describe myself nurturing, creativity, and compassion, I’m looking for a connection with someone who wants a true relationship. I'm in California so that helps if you are too. I'm open to an ldr. I'm Witty and humorous I love to laugh. I have emotional intelligence I would like to find someone who understands of his feelings as well and have the patience and calmness to handle a partnership this is important to me. I have a lot of hobbies l'm very crafty, I like video games; baking, gardening, and yoga I love movies and cartoons bobs burgers and South Park are my favorites! I would love to find a traveling buddy I have been to Mexico and Canada so far. Ultimately I'm looking for a Quality person who is emotionally available. I’m a hopefully romantic I love writing Letters and making playlists for my partner. I love going to concerts! I’d love to share that with someone.

TL;DR: most Never-mo folks who seem chill and respectful about Mormonism don't really know very much about it.
To other Never-mo's out there, what are some things you used to hear or believe about the LDS church before knowing what you know now?
 
I saw a post from yesterday talking about how the perception of Mormons outside the community can be quite jarring to realize, and it made me remember how I used to feel about the LDS church (and in part, its offshoot denominations) as your average Midwesterner outside the community.
As a Never-mo, the only other Never-mo folks I've seen defend or show respect to Mormons and (more particularly) their beliefs are people who haven't really learned very much about them. Your average Never-mo probably knows Mormons are those really polite people who don't drink coffee, don't usually swear, and often seem to have a particular investment in being well-groomed. They might have been told to avoid dating a Mormon because they have hangups about sex and sexuality. But it isn't exactly typical for outsiders to know much else unless they read about something scandalous in a headline.
Your average Never-mo might have learned everything they know about the church from the South Park episode. They generally aren't aware of church history or doctrine, the story of the first vision or the "translation" of the BoM, or the many controversies surrounding this belief system. They might be the type of people who crack up at "I Believe" in The Book of Mormon musical because they think it's a joke or exaggeration scripted for a play. They might be confused about why anyone would claim the church isn't a Christian denomination and think Mormons seem to have such lovely and wholesome families, so live and let live. Good on them and their focus on "family values," right?
I used to think like this before investigating the Church on my own. There's a lot of media I've consumed created by active church members who seemed to be living their best life and really, genuinely happy in their belief system. (Sidenote: at least four of the YouTube channels I used to watch run by TBMs have since had career-ending, family-shattering sex scandals, so not always so happy and wholesome I guess...go figure /s) Over the years, feeling unsatisfied with my own loosely structured belief system and also taking an interest in religions from more of an academic standpoint, I decided to investigate the church on my own. And boy was my mind absolutely blown, irrevocably, by what I found out.
I used to hear some people say Mormonism is a cult and think, "come on, that's really rude and overdramatic..." And now, yeah, I'll be among the first to claim it's absolutely a cult. I even remember the day, getting around to reading the CES letter, I actually said out loud, "Holy shit. This is a cult." For anyone curious, the Book of Abraham was the final straw for me in terms of knowing without question that the church is not true, having grown up with a marked interest in Egyptology.
I respect the people who live within this high demand religion as fellow people who deserve respect and kindness and have a right to pursue happiness. But I am appalled at the religion itself, T$CC, church history, and abuse, racism, sexism, and anti-LGBTQ+ bigotry excused and justified in the name of god.
 
Other issues I became aware of after more research over the years:

• The often toxic culture within the community

 

• The extent of polygamy within the early church, the flaming sword nonsense to manipulate Emma into "agreeing," marrying sisters and mothers and daughters, marrying women who were already married to other men *and even at least one woman while pregnant with her actual living husband's baby!!

 

• "White and delightsome" racism and the teachings that those with black or brown skin are cursed because of their forefathers and will be white in heaven. What the actual fucking fuck.

 

• Gay converion therapy overseen by Oaks himself. Teachings about queerness in general, including that queer people will be straight in heaven. Again,what?!

 

• The common attitude of superiority among members, often extending to prosperity gospel beliefs and prejudice

 

• Universally harmful purity culture (not unique to Mormonism, but given utmost importance in the church, with breaking the law of chastity being considered second to murder)

 

• Mandatory tithing to secure your blessings and therefore your position in the afterlife (an idea that, at its most basic, simplified form played a large role in instigating the protestant reformation)

 

• Basically mandatory mission work where missionaries are treated very much like scientology Sea Org members and manipulated to have next to no contact with their families for 2 years to foster dependence on the Church and its teachings

 

• Manual labor is good! Child labor teaches a good work ethic! Scientology vibes here

 

• Pressuring teens and early 20-somethings to marry young and have as many children as possible regardless of income or mental capacity to care for them

 

• Expecting girls to be wives and mothers and only need an education in case something happens to their husbands like unemployment or death

 

• Financial disparity between youth programs for boys and girls

 

• "Worthiness" interviews

 

• Keeping family from being together for weddings

 

• The penishood where a 12 year old deacon has more authority than his mother or grandmother

 

• Hoarding so...much...money in the name of Jesus without doing hardly anything terms of actual charitable work or community outreach (not just to the Mormon community)

...all perpetuated by an organization that claims to be the only true religion in existence? It's all too much to ignore. I haven't been directly harmed by this religion personally, but I could have been without doing my research. I'm angry at how close I came and so much more angry for the pain and guilt this belief system inflicts on millions of people.
 
To any other Never-mo's out there, what are some things you heard or used to believe about the LDS church before knowing what you know now? What's your story of how you came to think differently?

I (23m)have been bisexual all my life but have been forced to keep it hidden due to the area that I lived in. As a teenager I heard my classmates openly joke about dragging gay people behind trucks. I don't live in that area anymore and I want to come out but I'm scared to do so. I'm not the first LGBT member of my family, my uncle is gay...however my grandmother is a bigot.(I live with her) There are also several other members of my family who are bigots as well. (I live in a red state) I have been debating this for a while but I went to my local park today and I took some photos with a bi flag. I'm planning on posting it to social media tomorrow. Is this the right thing to do? What if my family members disown me? Are there any resources I could get into contact with if things go south?

My 2020 STi limited just started revving super high in all gears. When in a certain gear the digital gear indicator will read a lower gear until I shift to a higher one. Smoke, smells like clutch, trailing behind the car just tonight. Parked it and it will be towed to the dealership tomorrow. Thinking the clutch is shot but it still shifts, maybe clutch is slipping? Either way, I'm sure it will be a new clutch 21,000 miles, what the actual f...

I was getting Taco Bell with my kids pretty late last night around 10pm. I pulled into a parking spot as I always do, to make sure all of what I ordered is there. I realized I actually forgot to order something so I pulled out to go back to the drive thru line.
A man was parked horizontally across several spots a few feet away. As I started to back up, he made really intense eye contact with me. Both of our windows were down and I heard him say “let me find out”. I parked in front of Taco Bell now (previously was behind it) to see if their lobby was open. The man follows me around, blocking me into the parking spot. I decide I should just leave, I slowly start to back up and he allows me to, but stays very close to my car. He then pulls up next to me as I’m halfway pulled out, says “let me find out” again and speeds away. He’s now at an exit to leave.
I now decide I’m going to just use the drive thru, i went towards the drive thru and suddenly got a really funny feeling and decided to just leave. I headed towards a different exit than he was at. I then see him start to reverse and basically ends up behind me at the same exit. I wait and wait until there’s barley an opening (really busy street right there right off the highway) for just me to pull out. It works but he pulls out soon after and catches up to me.
He’s now going on all sides of me. Traffic clears up and roads pretty dead just a few street lights up from the Taco Bell further away from the highway. He’s tailgating so close behind I can’t even see his headlights. Then he’ll swerve to my left and stare, get back behind and get on my right side, making sure to go the exact speed as me. I am absolutely petrified. I should also mention I have a ptsd diagnosis which revolves around a traumatic event where my kids were threatened so I am already always on higher than usual alert for their safety… so maybe my already existing fear made this feel worse but I was absolutely afraid for my kids and my life.
By this point (like 2 minutes after turning out of Taco Bell) I call 911. It only took this long to actually call because I was just too focused on trying to get away and wanted to wait until I was at a complete stop again to reach for my phone. It’s hectic, trying to focus on what the driver might do next, talk to dispatch and make sure I keep my kids and I safe. I see an opportunity, we’re both driving westbound, 40mph and just before we cross an intersection I cut to my left (he’s on my right) and jump into the turning lane. He doesn’t even take a moment to make sure it’s clear, he goes from the right side straight lane to actually making the left turn straight across the intersection, almost hitting multiple cars.
Now, I’m sitting in the turning lane to go south and if I make this turn he’s in the next lane over to go north (hope all this makes sense). So I decide to stay put. He’s revving his car, going forward and backwards in my direction (he was across 2 lanes, to be facing me diagonally) The dispatcher was telling me that there wasn’t an officer very close and wanted me to drive to the police station. As much as I wanted to, I just couldn’t. It’s a very twisty road I’d have to take to get there and I’d have to go across 2 bridges. I was way too scared to drive that specific route with a maniac following me. It would have been much more dangerous on that road.
Next thing I know the car is gunning it right at my car, going at least 40mph while I’m at a complete stop. He would have hit right where my 2 year old sons car seat is (with my 2yo in it). I thankfully was able to quickly turn right, and start heading north down another road. He’s tailgating again, going around both sides of me, looking insane (like he had an actual look of a demon in his eyes, I don’t know how to explain that). I reach another intersection and I decide that I’m going to just stay there until an officer finds up. Dispatch agrees it’s an okay plan. The man pulls to my left so I did something maybe stupid but needed to try. By this point I had already rolled my windows up, so I cracked it a tiny bit and said “what did I do?” He’s telling me don’t act stupid, you know what you did etc etc. I said I’ve never seen you in my life please tell me what I did, you’re scaring me and my kids are terrified too. Please tell me what I did! He then said “you killed my daughter” he honestly had a true look of pain in his eyes when he said that.
I rolled my window down all the way now and said “I’m a mother. I cannot possibly imagine the pain you’re going through. I’m sorry about your daughter and I hope you find who did that- but it wasn’t me.” He asked my name, I gave him my nickname and he kept asking “do you promise? Are you lying to me? Is that really your name?” I assured him over and over. He then started profusely apologizing. Even yelled sorry to my kids. He told me his daughters name and I said I’m sorry for your loss and thought I was okay from there.
I still planned on having contact with police but I wanted to get away from him. So I went across the intersection and pulled into a gas station to my right and lo and behold the man is still following me. This time it’s a very slow, less aggressive following. Just slowly following from a distance. I see 3 officers approaching and by this point we’re at another gas station across the street. It takes about 1 minute from pulling into this gas station for the police to actually pull up behind us. I roll my window down again and ask him why he’s still following me. He then starts yelling “I heard you! When you pulled away I heard you saying you were hiding shit! You’re lying! You killed daughter’s name !! Stop lying stop lying you’re lying to me!!” I reason with him once more with empathy and compassion. He starts apologizing again.
Now police have pulled up, they get a run down of the situation from me. I hear the man telling the police “it’s just a misunderstanding, we’re okay I’m so sorry it’s just a misunderstanding.” I briefly hear 2 other officers speaking after speaking with him, whispering to each other about a girls body never found and that he seemed mentally unwell. Unsure the details. They give me a card and tell me to go home.
I arrive home around 11:30pm and send the officer who’s card I was given an email.
“Hi my name is **** I was in the **
****** being followed by the red **** tonight around ** & *** steeet. I was just wondering if there was any sort of follow up information I could get, If the man was on drugs or sent for a psych evaluation or anything? Feeling very anxious to go out driving again anytime soon. Also I left in a hurry of course because I was wanting to just get home but can I press charges on this man?”
I awoke to this response
“Hello,
He did not meet requirements for a mental health evaluation. If for some reason he comes into contact with you please just call us but he stated he does not know you or have any reason to contact you.
Hope this helps.”
I feel as though he should have been charged with SOMETHING! I was absolutely scared for my kids life and my own. Am I owed any sort of explanation? Can I press charges? How likely is it that a court would grant me a protection order? So that way if I do encounter him in this manner again, it’s not the same story again- it’s just simply he’s violating a protection order, please get him away from me! I have no idea if this man lives/is from this area. If he really has a daughter. If he truly meant the apologies or if he’s planning on finding me again and doing worse.
Literally looking for any and all legal advice here because I don’t know if im acting out of fear here but I don’t think he should have just been allowed to leave without any sort of consequence. I did go up to the police station this morning but was told I’d need to call when any of the officers that were on scene were on duty which won’t be until late tonight. What can he actually be charged with? What would be my best option? Pressing charges? A protection order? Both?
* I typed this out last night but didn’t actually post so another update since I typed this out.. I was unable to get ahold of the officer whose card I was given last night via phone. I emailed her also with no response. It’s been over 24hours so I called non emergency and dispatch took it a lot more serious, agreeing that I should get an explanation for his actions at the least (like if they could even confirm he had a daughter). She gave my number to a sergeant and said she’d have him call me since it’ll be harder for me to reach the officers who worked that night, graveyard shift. That was about 8 hours ago. I know they’re busy but I just feel so terrified. The way he switched back and forth from being so aggressive to apologetic multiple times is a huge red flag to me, the non emergency dispatcher agreed. Who knows if he’s been actively searching for my car again since this occurred.

Hey all. I am looking to rent a place at south park by windsor, which is on olympic blvrd / hill street. I will be working out of of 777 S Figueroa St, which is at the intersection of Figueroa and 8th street.
It appears to be a 10-15 minute walk which is great. However, I am sure I will have a lot of late evenings at the office, where I may have to go home at 9 PM - 10 PM. Would that be an issue, safety wise? Also, would appreciate any comments on the location/amenities/quality of south park by windsor.
THANKS!

Hey all. I am looking to rent a place at south park by windsor, which is on olympic blvrd / hill street. I will be working out of of 777 S Figueroa St, which is at the intersection of Figueroa and 8th street.
It appears to be a 10-15 minute walk which is great. However, I am sure I will have a lot of late evenings at the office, where I may have to go home at 9 PM - 10 PM. Would that be an issue, safety wise? Also, would appreciate any comments on the location/amenities/quality of south park by windsor.
THANKS!

Hi! I was wondering if anyone knew of some TV series that spawned a movie mid series run. The only ones I can think of are The X-Files, The Simpsons, Aqua Teen Hunger Force and South Park. These movies seemed successful, apart from Aqua Teen, were there other flops?
Thanks!

Where: East to West Ski Traverse from Shepherd's Pass Trailhead (Independence, CA) across the Sierra to Wolverton (Western Sierra Foothills), sometimes referred to as the "Sierra High Route Ski Traverse" or the "David Beck Route" after the ski guide who pioneered the route in the 1970s. Getting to cross the Sierra on skis, particularly with a historic snowpack, was an amazing experience.
When: May 25, 2023 – May 28, 2023
Distance and Vert: 50 Miles, 15,000' ascent (CalTopo: https://caltopo.com/m/FH2VE)
Conditions: Continuous snow from mile ~6 at 9400'. Weather varied from zero visibility clouds, scorching direct sun, precipitation/graupel, and frigid mornings.
Lighterpack: for a couple (shared sleep system and ski gear for two) https://lighterpack.com/rp5unn
Cars/Transportation: This might be one of the biggest challenges of the trip. Some people choose to stage cars at both trailheads, but that would require a six-hour drive before and after the trip. The ideal situation, which we were able to work out, is to swap cars with another group crossing in the opposite direction simultaneously, trading keys on route. However, not everyone will be this lucky. Another option is to hitchhike from Wolverton to Three Rivers, then get a ride to the Fresno airport, fly to Reno, and take the 395 shuttle to Independence. But this will add days to your trip.
Road Closure: This year, an additional complexity was that the road from Hospital Rock to Wolverton was closed due to rain damage. It is a 14-mile stretch with an elevation gain of approximately 5000'. We spoke to rangers at SEKI, and suggested they might look the other way if we rode our e-bikes outside of construction hours, which they believed were from 7 AM to 7 PM. So, one group rode e-bikes with cargo trailers we purchased on Amazon from Hospital Rock at 2700' up to Wolverton at 7400'. They locked up the bikes and trailers and headed east. When we arrived at Wolverton after our traverse, we unlocked the bikes, loaded our gear, and rode the bikes back down to the car parked at Hospital Rock. Walking that stretch would be a pain after already crossing the Sierra, particularly because you'd probably have to haul boots and skis down the road with you on your back.
Purpose of [Long] Report: I've wanted to cross the Sierra on skis for many years, but poor snow conditions had stymied previous attempts. With the historic snowpack this year, I finally got a chance to ski it. Prior to this trip, I scoured the Internet for information, but most of it was either old and lacked details or came from guide companies that lead clients across in about six days. In the interest of aiding future skiers, I wanted to put together a comprehensive trip report with some of our group's learnings. However, a caveat to future readers, our trip was much later in the year than is typical and followed the deepest winter in recorded memory in the Sierra, so your experience may differ greatly.
GEAR
Our kits were relatively light given it was a ski traverse, which was essential due to the long ski and boot carry on day one. This lighter pack is my wife and I's shared and personal gear combine. She was less egar to list out her clothing individually (she does not share our affliction) however she let me weigh it all at once: https://lighterpack.com/rp5unn
Sleep Kit: For anyone contemplating winter camping with someone they feel comfortable sharing a sleeping bag with, I cannot recommend the Feathered Friends Spoonbill enough. It is the single greatest piece of kit I have ever owned. It's absurdly light and warm and more comfortable than a solo bag because it's large enough for both people to stretch out. Of course, it only really works if you feel comfortable cozying up with your partner, but if you're a couple, like we were, it's the greatest. Just make sure that you have pad straps that hold the two sleeping pads together. When we first got the bag, we contemplated one of those double sleeping pads, but they're heavy and not as warm as the Therm-a-Rest Xtherm. Instead, I've sewn pad straps with grosgrain, similar to the ones you can purchase from Gossamer Gear, that hold the pads together perfectly. It's also nice that each person has their own pad to inflate to their preferred firmness. The Xtherm is also warm enough to eliminate the need for extra closed cell foam pads.
Skis: If you're contemplating this route, you might be tempted to reach for ultralight skimo skis, but I'd urge caution. The snow conditions you're going to encounter are wildly variable, and unless you're used to skiing sun cups with a super heavy pack down steep passes, you may want something more robust. I ended up opting for my Blizzard Zero G 105 because I wanted that additional flotation in the soft afternoon snow. It ended up being a pretty good choice, although it was pretty heavy to haul up Shepherd's Pass on my back.
Sharps Kit: We carried aluminum boot crampons and ski crampons. Both were essential. My partner had a BD Whippet to assist on some of the passes. I just opted for poles. If you're used to booting, I think crampons are probably enough, and you can likely leave the ice ax at home.
Stove: We debated bringing an alcohol stove (Trail Designs Ti Tri), but we ended up bringing a MSR Reactor, worried that we would have to melt snow for water. We ended up collecting 95% of our water, and we could've easily collected all of it. I've heard from other groups that when the weather gets cold, it can be more difficult to track down water, but we could have gotten away with an alcohol stove.
Footwear: I wore light road running shoes up Shepard's Pass. They got pretty shredded on the trip, but they were a welcome addition and served as great camp shoes too while I tried to dry by boots in the afternoon sun.
Eyewear: At the last minute, I ditched my goggles and wore Smith Wildcats exclusively. Although I did have a backup pair of sunglasses, just in case I lost the Wildcats, I'm glad I didn't bother with goggles. The descents themselves were pretty short.
Pack: We both used HMG Porter packs without the HMG ski carry mod, but our own MYOG tubular webbing contraption to hold skis in place without damaging the webbing straps. They were perfect for the trip. I do know HMG now makes a ski-specific pack, but I purchased the Porter many years ago. However, even if the new pack had been available, I'd still prefer the Porter for versatility in other activities like climbing, packrafting, general backpacking, etc.
DAY-BY-DAY REPORT
Early on the morning of May 25th, we left the Courthouse Motel in Independence, CA bound for Shepard's Pass Trailhead. With skis and poles in hand, the proprietors looked perplexed when they asked us were we were headed and we told them “Fresno.” Despite significant runoff this year, the road to the Shepherds Pass Trailhead is passable with a low-clearance vehicle. While we couldn't reach the "hikers" trailhead, we easily reached the "stock" trailhead at 5600'. Starting our traverse from there, we ascended Symmes Saddle toward Shepard's Pass in lightweight running shoes, with skis and boots on our backs. Along the way, we encountered clear evidence of the historic avalanche cycle, including massive trees blocking the trail. Crossing the creek multiple times, we devised creative ways to keep our feet dry, using pack tosses and rock jumps. At the final crossing, we bypassed a sketchy log and carefully waded through the creek with our heavy packs.As the trail steepened into switchbacks, intermittent snow appeared around 8400', soon becoming continuous. Pushing on through snow with sneakers, we reached Symmes Saddle at 9100'. There the trail transitions to a south aspect and the snow disappeared completely. After a few more miles, we arrived at Mahogany Flat, there we switched from shoes to skis, encountering consistent snow for the rest of the traverse. Our first night's camp was set above the "Pothole" on granite slabs, offering a breathtaking view of the Owens River Valley below.
The following day, we ascended Shepherds Pass using boot crampons, reaching the Tyndall Plateau. Descending on firm, sun-capped snow, we made our way to the Kern River, where we were fortunate to find a snow bridge, a crucial element of our route. Crossing without a bridge would have been sketchy. From there, we faced the grueling climb up Milestone Basin under a scorching sun. Fortunately, afternoon clouds provided relief and intermittent graupel. We ascended Milestone Pass late in the afternoon, then descended into Milestone Bowl, where again we camped on granite slabs.
On the third day, we descended the remainder of Milestone Bowl before embarking on several long traverses across massive bowls. At the end of the first ski traverse, we booted up an unnamed ridge marked by glide avalanche cracks. After briefly meeting the other party traveling from West to East and exchanging information on conditions ahead, we crossed over Triple Divide Pass. The next pass, Copper Mine Pass, presented more glide cracks and cornices that showed signs of recent collapse. Instead of taking the conventional route north of the peak, exposed to hazards, we managed to skin up just below the Copper Mine Pass summer trail, which surprisingly was melted out and allowed passage to the next drainage. We finished the day with an easy skin up Horn Col and a relaxed ski down to Lonely Lake.
On the final day, we climbed over Pterodactyl Pass below Big Bird Peak before turning north and continuing to ski into the Tablelands. Once near Tablelands Pass, we removed our skins for the second-to-last time and enjoyed a fun but gentle descent toward Pear Lake Hut. The hut was completely buried in snow, having sat unused throughout the entire winter. From the hut, we skinned up the final hump before embarking on a true survival ski down to Wolverton. The snow extended all the way down to the parking lot, but it was wet and covered in pine needles, branches, and pine duff—the type of snow one can't truly fathom without venturing beyond ski resort boundaries.
Finally, we arrived at the parking lot and found our e-bikes securely locked to the barricade, which the eastbound group had prepared for us. We assembled the cargo trailers, attached them to the bikes, and began the long and winding descent from 7400' to 2700', reaching the road closure at Hospital Rock, the truck, and very welcome warm beers.

Is there a website to watch censored episodes like south park does with southparkuncensored?