Cole Parker

Enough about the milk! -- RadObstreperous, precocious, impatient youth.C

Trab, I was teasing. I loved you moving on from leaving us a picture of him taking care of himself to then telling him to get a grip.I don't know if it were intended as a pun. The "get a grip" comment was the first line of a completely different and more serious subject. So I assumed it was serendipitous.I just loved the juxtaposition of the two sentences.C

"And milk. Can you drink too much milk, I wonder? I must be on two to three pints a day. I Love it ... and NO health warning, which makes me suspicious" -- CamyMilk contains both calcium and fat. Fat clogs your little arteries, raises your blood pressure and leads to stroke and heart problems. Calcium, if you have too much in your system, gets into your kidneys and is the main element in kidney stones.Now, I don't know if the type calcium found in milk causes the kind of pain associated with kidney stones, and I don't know what fat content milk you're drinking, but why take the risk on something as dicey as milk? it seemed to me you had a much b etter plan working for you a while back.Drink red wine. Good for you. Both your heart and disposition. And encourages peeing, instad of blocking it up.C

There is a search engine associated with Nifty where, if you can remember anything at all about the title, the author's name, or any exact line or few words from the story, you might be able to find what you're looking for. Here's the link to the site. http://www.gaycafe.com/nifty.php C

A very awkward conjunction of words, Trab.C

Juno was the only nominee I saw. I loved it. I wish it had won. I think I'm in love with Ellen Page. I do like perky! C

At least you didn't mention any complaints about your parts down under. C

I was delighted in The Quantum when it began. But it never seemed to finish. I stopped reading it eventually. It's one of the stories that convinced me not to read unfinished works. I try to stick to that rule, but sometimes fail. I've read all of Douglas' HLAYK and am waiting for the final chapter; and I can't help but read Driver's unfinished stories. But my experience with The Quantum lingers, and with most stories, I wait. C

You guys humble me. Thanks so much. What else can I say? Thanks. Thanks. Thanks. C

Cheap is definitely not a modifier to be used with single malt scotch. The stuff is fiercely quality controlled in Scotland. There are, I believe, fewer than 100 distilleries that are licensed to produce it. It has to be aged for years; the fewest I've seen for bottled single malts is eight; ten and twelve year aging seems more the standard. Holding your inventory for that long obviously affects the price. You can buy it aged for 25 years or longer. Well, maybe you can, but such a bottle comes way to dearly for my budget. Which is the rub. The stuff certainly is expensive. But sipping a glass or two is something anyone that enjoys liquor, anyone with a smattering of sybaritic tastes, should try. I never liked scotch at all till I tried single malt scotch. C

The fact is, middle schools are where the most vicious and frequent bullying takes place. It certainly runs throughout high schools as well, but is not as a general rule as prevalent there. Boys in middle school are generally in the earlier stages of puberty, are experiencing changes in their bodies and thoughts and feelings, and for the first time having competitive and challenging thoughts about sexuality. This is also a time when the herd mentality is gaining it's strength, beginning to control thoughts and behaviors, a time when there is a premium on being like everyone else and people outside the norm are seen as a threat and so a target to the majority. Saying the subject of bullying is beyond the understanding or maturity level of middle school students is like saying to a boy of thirteen that he doesn't need to know about sex yet, he wouldn't find the subject of any interest at all for at least another few years.

Steven, you must be drinking cheap scotch. The good stuff is single malt scotch, and only a heathen would put water, or, shudder, ice in it. Drink it neat, man, and sip it, let it moisten your taste buds, then trickle down the back of your throat, as it inspires thoughts or peat and smoke and transports you to the lonely, barren hills of the Scottish coast. If you really want to taste something unusual, try Lagavulin. Amazing stuff. If your local pub doesn't have it, choose a different pub. C

From the pen of Camy:I love 'Duck Duck Goose' and I hate it, too. As a story it's had me in all states of emotion, yet as a writer I know I could never write anything similar. That kind of length would get me twisted up in knots so fast I'd have to admit myself to the loony bin.But why? That's what's bothering me. Why can I only seem to write short stories?I have a couple of nearly finished novels, and yet every time I think of finishing them, I get into a cold sweat.Camy:The why it is you don't want to finish your stories seems apparent to me, and as you're much wiser than I am, should be to you as well if you think about it.I think all writers have insecurities. I think it goes with the territory. We have to be open to what's around us, sensitive to thoughts and nuances and what's behind things, if we're going to expound upon them in our writing with any profundity at all. And if we're sensitive, if we're emotional, if we're intelligent--all marks of a decent writer--then it only makes sense we'd be sensitive enough to maintain some self-doubts as well. And if we doubt ourselves and our ability and our craft, then what could be worse than putting ourselves on the line, baring our souls to the world, by writing something down, then just letting anyone and everyone read it, and, oh my god, judge us for it? You don't have to suffer all that if you don't finish anything.But I've seen your writing, Camy. It's great. And I can feel the intelligence just oozing out of it. So the chance that you could write a longer piece and it would be awful, and get you tied up, and not be worth anything, isn't something to fret over. Trusting ourselves is sometimes difficult, but not do so, in your case, is completely unnecessary. There is no need. None at all.And if I misread your reluctance to write The End on something, I apologize.C

34 and 35 Satruday. Enjoy. C

Oh, that's seriously nasty! I love it! C

Does yours have feathers on it? C

I think my job is done here. I got the blood flowing through the British veins among us. As I've said before here, I'm a great fan of the James Herriott novels. He spends some time writing about his fear when facing a hard-throwing, intimidating bowler. Most any competitive sport played by adults has intimidation as part of its structure. And as for badminton, I love that game. In fact, I was my college's intramural champion, many many years ago. It was a sport I was made for, because I was tall, very thin, very fast on my feet, and cagey. I also could hit the cock about 100 mph from many hours spent on the tennis courts. I don't know why the game isn't more popular here. Competitive badminton is simply a great, great game. C

I think he means soda water, Trab. The stuff that's better used as a vehicle for scotch, as in scotch and soda. C

All it takes is one hard pitch, up and in (or, for those uncomfortable with the vernacular, thown by the pitcher towards the batter's head and running towards him so even as he's pulling away, in the split second he has to do that, the ball is continuing to chase after him), for a kid to learn that baseball is not a game for the faint-hearted. It's nothing, nothing at all, like softball. Fear and the steadfast resolve to ignore it are a big part of baseball. Overcoming the fear of being hit by a fast moving, unforgivingly hard baseball, either while standing in the batter's box and having the pitcher thow it at you, or while standing in the infield and having it hit toward you, oftentimes coming at you blisteringly fast and bouncing erratically, or taking a short hop right in front of you, you must ignore the fear if you want to play the game. In softball, fear plays a very small part in the game, and it's almost exclusively on the defensive side. In baseball, conquring your fear must occur on both sides, offensive and defensive. I don't think you have that in cricket. There the ball is plitched into the ground, not at the batter, it's thrown with a funny sort of straight-arm motion that robs the throw of any real speed, and in any event the batter is padded and protected like someone's little sister. The only fear inherent in the game is that one of the spectators might spill a spot of tea on his white trousers while sitting in his canopied box with his fellows, politely clapping and speculating on whether the batter might get his century while nibbling cucumber sandwiches. In baseball, the batter's anxiety is frequently augmented by a pitcher who is intentionally intimidating. He will glower at the batter, spit in the dirt, glower some more, then take a couple of warm-up throws at a speed where the ball becomes a blur, and throw them over the catcher's head, then five or six feet outside and inside, establishing the fact, cementing the fact, that he has absolutely no control over the ball, and the batter knows he'll be standing right next to a very small target, and may well become a very large and plunkable target himself. With that thought in mind, he's supposed to step up to the plate, crowd the plate if he listens to the screams of his manager, and aggressively stride towads the pitcher while swinging the bat, watching the ball and hoping it isn't curving in at him. Yes, it takes courage to stand up at that plate, look that pitcher in the eye, not back down, not shake with fear, while the pitcher is glowering at you, or myopically looking in your general vicinity but with a hopeless sort of shrug, then yelling at the catcher that he can't see the plate at all but he'll try his best, just be ready to jump for the ball, it could go anywhere. Then he'll throw the first pitch a foot inside (toward the batter, again for you vernacular-challenged chaps) and you best be lightfooted and quick on your toes if you don't want the ball imbedded in your ribs. Getting hit in the ribs REALLY hurts! Where does the courage come from? From being a boy. The kind of boy who plays baseball. When he's 11. C

Wonderful story, Camy. Great evocation of time and place and the emotions of a boy coming into his own. I loved reading it. Now, how about a few more chapters. Huh? Huh? C

All you ever wanted to know about tenterhooks. It's the last item at this link: http://www.word-detective.com/011502.html#tenterhooks C

Yeah, you're right, TR. My error. Watching vidoes of Lawrence's friends speaking, reading accounts of the boy, are simply heartbreaking. And you can't help but feel for the other boy. I will never understand trying a boy as an adult. An adult would not have made the decisions he made. The entire situation is simply awful. C

Touche. C

Not everyone knows that. Some of us don't need to.<g> C

It was reported in one recent account that the victim had told the shooter the day before that he liked him. How many gay boys have been through this, to varying, or the same, degrees? Tell someone you find them attractive or that you like them, and sacrifice any and everything up to your life because of it? Brandon, the victim, had a great deal of courage and resolve to live as he wanted to despite the consequences. And now he's dead. C