with the kiddo napping I breathe, ponder, oddly in October

of crazy fun good times – yay!

Well, this pic covers a number of things, doesn’t it? “snack-sized smoked meat stick”, Google Fi, From idea to magical meow mix – because who doesn’t need to hear ‘Three Little Birds’ by good sir Bob Marley? Thanks blood – you’re always keeping your heart intune with me and mine.

It’s saturday. I’m not in the death throws, feeling definitely above 95% healed. Had a good outing in the side yard this morning with the wee lad – yay us!

if we build it he will climb! – c. oct 2019 hobbit house

It’s been a pretty tough/shitty past 4 weeks. sick, coughing, un-motivated, a tad shocked by the high 90s in the beginning of October, a house that needs all the help and motivation we just don’t have. Ugh. But today – the clouds came, the temps didn’t pass into the high 70s, boo and the kiddo and I made it out and survived!! yay us!! also it should be noted that Boo rocks. She finds and gets the coolest stuff from the local parent groups on social. so now the kid has a proper thing to clamber over which is good for all involved! yay us! yay Boo!!

we can all be heroes


So a few words, a picture or three. It’s like I’m getting back to sharing or telling my stories. Or hell, living my stories. It’s all so very very very much more intense – the on is super on, leading to not being on equallying essentially being on life-support – sure, another season of Blacklist – it’s kinda … mindless. Fun. Fun? meh … while everything piles up around us. sigh.

So we fight to get back to feeling decent enough, I have hopes that I can change my course due to what I’m dealing with and never wanting to have this happen again. Wish me luck, eh?

Be good to each other, alright?


:: s :: | vivere militare est |

“Keep Calm and Carry On” or “Keep Calm … and Cupcakes!”

//8:49p+5Oct2019= Sat eve||…All The Go Inbetweens by Silversun Pickups good sir John spun, back on Friday morn//

Alone you are not, oddly in September

looking up or looking out

Hi. How the fuck are you?

Mid-September, eh? Friday, thirteenth, even. the moon – full above the clouds.

the house – a mess and a sanctuary for Rumbly’s giggles. Trashed and a museum of the hard journey we’ve taken to get her. Filled with love, overflowing in fear. Funny how this living thing goes, eh?

a place to be for a moment with Blood

U2 completely turned around John’s arc. Good on ya boys. Good his friends. Good on my friends – so kind, so patient.

I’m tired, in case you wondered, worried. So very very tired.

bit of a hacking cough too. weeee – parenting with a low-grade fever – rock star level achieved!!!

Reach out to get help. Reach out to check in. How does that work anyways? A path I’ve followed has given me too many moments re-assessing, re-judging, re-classifying my past self. Seems the one time in my life I am actually not an imposter – Dad – and it’s all been crap and who can I trust myself? how can I lean on myself? how do I not question the fine folk who are near both recent and past, longtime and short? don’t you see?? don’t you see who I am? ’cause wow – I missed it but I was looking away.

parts and pieces to play with

These are times that are hard. I find myself amused by that sentiment – did I expect different? No – I wasn’t expecting anything at all.

See all this re-visitation, re-categorizing/classifying my life, plus a “music heals” mental  health special, plus sleeping half-buns up, wrapped around a sofa cushion in the middle room trying to get the fire dagger to stop making my behind eye place hurting soooo bad – plus no sleep – allowed a few certain thoughts to percolate into focus.

Westmoreland road elementary – perhaps a Striped Tomato episode where the blond one was junkied-up – what, my impressionable 5th grain bucket of brains thought, could I do if someone did that to me? Drugs were bad, I’d die. That was perhaps my first rememorable moment of ‘depression’ – it was a slide at a playground I eagerly jumped down… though now I recall a moment over at the house next to Gordy’s in which I ripped pieces of the family bible out to put them in a safe box to grab when the house caught fire. Odd, in that dad was a firefighter. Odd in deed.

So imagine perhaps a life where the slopes of anxiety and depression were actually the bedrock foundation all your outbursts were built upon. imagine being lucky enough to have smarts and love and support and getting through just fine (fine? well, never convicted, as they like to joke) – and many many many lifes, lifetimes, and years later you finally understand. you finally realize – perhaps the peachy life you had was more pear shaped; perhaps your smarts was just good test taking and a somewhat dismal track-record of pushing students to excel to their most capable achievement (looking at you 2 pullups in 7th grade scouts thing) … yeah. yup. all. fucking. night. long. it’s easy for me – I held onto lots of these snippets; I’ve bored you with the millionth time I shared … let’s see – not drinking around the campfire due to puking – recall that one? I got something out of it, driving at 14, but – much like my lovelife at 14, certain decisions about ‘who I am’ probably could have waited until a few years later. Though the whole motorcycle thing was a) a good choice, and b) sooooo much earlier.

and now it’s later.

I have a think in the morning.

I’m tired. I have brillance in my skull that fizzles on the way through the fingers… couldn’t find the pic of me on my plastic trike motorcycle circa Hayes road and the beginning of time.

Blood has different recollections, different takes on the situations, and perhaps has hit the key area that I was loved and still lived a life with more high-stress energy/emotions that one should. I don’t know – it was my life, all pretty good – no convictions, right?


right. keep pursuing the answers I guess? gah…


:: s :: | vivere militare est |

“Keep Calm and Carry On” or “Keep Calm … and Cupcakes!”

//|| 256 : 13 Sep 2019 @22:50 ||’into my arms, oh lord’ sings good sir Nick Cave, as played by John for a listener who traded up from her ladybug portable record player to a Walkman, from this past week’s Music Heals – Mental Health show//

Oddly in August a wonderful request – ‘let it remind you what was in their heart’

above the trees

“it’s not dark yet / but it’s getting there” sings Bob over the closing credits.

what was it for? – a timeless question on the actions of the American gov’t and those who steer our course.

Of having pride – and of having shame. A proud man can have shame too.

‘strangers showed up with food, and the kids slept in the gym at the school’ – well how fucking great are we now?

A reminder, perhaps, of what is in their heart – what will be the reminder of what was in my heart, though?

such a great day

I guess that can work.

:: s ::
| Respice ad diem hanc |

“Don’t Forget to Be Awesome”


//02:12a+9Aug2019= early on a Friday, feeling the feels || levon helms ‘wide river to cross’ at the funeral scene of The Last Flag Flying//

even in Jun I like to write posts and forget about them…

shades of sunshine

such amazing things these children – must be careful to let them grow to unimaginable awesomeness!

||>- and then even in August and I’ll try to make things better by sharing what pithy comments I’ve accidentally captured.


:: ps ::
| Respice ad diem hanc |

“Don’t Forget to Be Awesome”

//9:21p+8jun2019= sat Eve|kids in the midst of bedtime routines//

quiet Sunday reflections, even in June

definitely an area I’m looking forward to

trying to remember, trying to recall, what truly impacted me versus the stories we tell versus unobjectionable truth.

it’s that odd time where I can reflect both on my past and, oddly, my future.

may I form a memory of love, kindness, support, trust –  even in June. :s:

//926a+16jun2019=Sunday morn | the fans blow as a child rests, a bagel is munched//

a rainy Sat morning, even in June

they have another brick in the wall on this album – wtf?

the power of technology – I’m dictating this entry from my phone while watching my kid play in our middle room.

The deluge from this morning’s storm caused a beautiful waterfall outside the big window, fortunately that means I should go fix the gutters. but this also means I have no excuse for not crafting posts.

I wonder if in my youth I would have not questioned whether a motorcycle oriented podcast crafted from my own so brilliant and witty thoughts would be a success, but now I question anything and everything I can think of possibly attempting. what a shitty stage in my life.

a new week, a new set up at The Fruit!

though I didn’t stick around for the techno dance party last night I did look into the celeb DJ’s hit ‘sandstorm‘ – it’s been watched on YouTube 115 million times! fairly impressive – & also yay durhamtown!!

well – this was (like everything else I guess) just a test of the emergency content creation system – had this been a real blog post I would have waxed nostalgic at least once, & probably shared a bit on how I’m feeling amazing watching my kid while feeling terrified & paralyzed watching my kid – perhaps next time eh?

ciao, from durhamtown. the Bull City!


//8:59a+8Jun2019= Sat morn || all the rain, the dishwasher, the happy noises of a 25mo, a wonderful moment, truly//

Even at the end of February I can find joy

foggy february fantastic-ness

the morning was chalk full of fog (chalk dust full of fog?) – the kiddo enjoyed the diffuse outdoors from our bed, I enjoyed the eeriness of the scene. We bemoan the weather often (have you heard about the rains down in durhamtown? well, they certainly are ‘bless your heart’ blessed, eh?) – but I hope my joy in the variety of water our atmosphere deigns to drop on us – I mean, the sleet the other week was weak but you have to take what you get, right?

The dewy web was kind really cool – probably could have spent the morning shooting it, waiting for a glint of sunlight to make the drops sparkle like gemstones. Alas the time was not mine to spend on waiting for additional amazement, so I shot a pic or 7 and am pleased at the what I captured. Go me!

Go me – I was attempting to recall a ‘me march’ (or something silly like that) that I declared years ago. Me and my declarations, eh?

fiercely fabulous flowers amidst fog

So here’s the thing. here’s the thing… the thing.

I am struggling. I could use some help. I have no idea how, or who, to ask. what to ask for (besides ‘a million dollars’) or what to take or what it is that I need (besides ‘help’) – some of this is a clinical cycle, I suspect. is this where I find comfort in being wise enough to know that I don’t know everything? Ah, yes.

As we approach the 24 month mark in Rumbly’s adventure (apparently Boo and I have been on this trip for a few months more but I honestly have no math skills anymore) I am finding the days to have an overwhelming amount of ‘oh this is the best-est cutest most amazingly awesome thing ever (see Rumbly’s joy filled laughter, his eyes, HIS joy)’ counter weighted (balanced? er, no. no.) with depths of despair I didn’t realize were there (oh the depths I’ve visited; I believe my heart and soul have the scars to prove I’ve been down into the cragginess of the abyss in the past… just … well, didn’t see this dark corner before – guess it was behind me and I never took it all in) – in a whipping back and forth fashion I can only describe as alarming and exhausting.

there’s this thing. I’ve spent the last 3 months (holy shit – only three months? wtf – seems like past 3 years … gah) digging into my head, seeing the stored remembrances/ruminations/origin stories thru a lens I hadn’t used before (or seen?) – say, ya know, you have a kid with autism. & you think of the interactions – social, inter-personal, ‘typical’ situations that are handled in a ‘unique’ way. You think. You wonder. You worry. You start to doubt the core foundation of ‘who are you’ – I’m Scott, of course. Let me tell you the stories of my life.

Yet … doubt. Hell, don’t even know what I’m doubting – the stories happened. the facts are still the facts (thanks MickeyMatt – appreciated the delivery of the Concord sans window that one wintry night) – but suddenly the illumination is off the center, the bright spot you’ve held onto for all these days. Now the light expands and I am seeing … how fucking odd my past has been; how fucked up my past has been. If it were in some way a triumph over adversity (oh, those years I spent dressing so oddly was in fact the time I needed to stop “chasing the dragon”, yes – some go to rehab, some don’t make it, I wore questionable shorts in public in my late 20s – it’s the way thru, which is the only way thru, man)

//will this ever see the light of day? it must. it really does//

Will this see the light of day. because if I hit publish, if Blood sees it, if Boo – hell, anyone really, I will add to their worry and that’s not part of ‘who I am’ – but the days and moments are tough currently. I sit at the cubicle and think ‘well, that was an interesting week; should’ve be there – but no one thought of me; wtf’ (and immediately jump into my head to point out I didn’t shout loudly enough, or at all. then I look at the list of shit I’m ‘doing’ and see – well, school, quest, life, all the shit – yeah, I certainly would have been something had the team called me up from the bleacher. sigh. don’t think the team captain even knew I was there (how the hell could he?) – just … fuckery) {the proceeding is vague on purpose, sorry. a story for a later iteration of ‘Words Scott Puts Down – Watch Your Step’ show we all know and love.

When things are decent I feel like I’m at the cusp of putting all the shit together – experience, learning, skills, people I know. It doesn’t happen.

My only experience in radical change has been the time-tested burn it all down and move to the other side of the country method of my 20s. and 30s. sigh. not an option this time around.

mi amigo Matt

I am lucky to be able to look into the past fairly spectacularly – here’s  snap from 10 years ago.

We’ve changed, haven’t we my friend?

{Neuro Tribes, William Hughes reading Steve Silberman – ask me how this feels | 2:51p+01Mar2019=Friday afternoon}

oddly, in February, a hello, once more

thanks to McKinley Smith for his cool poster artwork!
what’s that? you didn’t know about International Clash Day? Well, now you do!

Hello there.
Wanted to share with you that next week the fairly awesome keXp.org will be hosting a theme of ‘International Clash Day’ all week long. Huh. Well, kinda odd. Then again – 40th anniv of London Calling, so really you should engage and enjoy!

It’s Feb 1. I thought I’d stop the BookFace thing, just for a month. Got to work and wouldn’t you know it was **thoughtless** that I was scrolling looking at cool things ( a doggo with a cato as a hato) – and this is not what I want to be doing with my time. There should be time for enjoyment – obvs. But what about getting my schoolwork locked down so I understand Org. Units in AD like the back of my hand? Setting group policies, auditing the layout/setup – I can do that. It’s not Cisco router setup – which is beyond my willingness to figure out. Sigh.

But no – posts. Good stuff. Pointless stuff. So I think if I craft a real note here in my blog, then share that – will that work for everyone? I hope so.

Oh, if you happen to have some coinage you’d not mind throwing at the aspirational “Framily Compound” well … there’s this!

within walking distance of neat things in durhamtown … though, of course, it kinda destroys nice things about durhamtown, eh?

How about something I made? I’m grappling with the concept that when I compose a shot I’m actually ‘making’ art, even though if I set up a cell phone to grab a time-lapse the phone is doing a lot of the work – but it didn’t pick the view. I did that!

when you look and see things

ciao! may you find joy in your day. ::ps::

//10:03a+01feb2019=friday || keXp JItM plays Ziggy – Ziggy Stardust (and followed by signed/sealed/delivered by Stevie Wonder. Because they are so much better at this!)//

well – yeah. John does a decent job of picking songs, wouldn’t you agree?
well you’re welcom Int’l Clash Day