eric nuzum dot com

One more July 4th post

My good friend Matt spent a surprising amount of time making this video from Saturday night's Petworth nonsense, quite fun. Enjoy.

4th of July in Petworth, 2009 from Matt Martinez on Vimeo.

Boom bang boom

IMG_8911
Originally uploaded by
the weather man lies

We had our concerns. With the recession, we were wondering if our fellow Petworth residents would have to scale back the fireworks this year.

For those unaware, the Petworth neighborhood in DC, where we live, is notorious for simultaneous amateur fireworks displays in all directions that are amazingly large, crazy expensive, and probably highly illegal. It starts at sundown and goes for hours in all directions.

Thankfully, we were not disappointed. Even some of our party guests--DC residents to boot--were in awe at the spectacle that comes to Petworth every 4th of July. We felt that this year's display was even more intense than last year's, but things started to calm down earlier. While last year we saw overhead fireworks from 8:30 until midnight, last night things were settling down by 11.

As usual, my photos stink. And, as usual, my friend Meghan's photos are much better (though the pics are in reverse order and you have to wade through tons of awful pics of my friends making faces at the camera--how original). And also as usual, my friend Carrie shot some simple video on her tiny camera that probably captured everything best of all. In fact, in addition to the two movies embedded below, she has six other great little videos (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 videos), plus her photos as well.

For those who don't believe this is anything all that unusual, here is the proof. Watch it and I'll guarantee you'll check the other videos and pictures.

Welcome to my 4th

Petworth 4th of July
Originally uploaded by Wayan Vota

Ah, the 4th of July. Always a celebrated holiday in my life.

Later tonight we're expecting some friends over for a little celebration Petworth-style. For those unaware, Petworth turns into Kabul on July 4th, with explosions and amateur displays that beat most small town fireworks. I wrote about last year's here.

On several past 4ths, I've re-posted/linked to a series of blog entries I wrote in 2003--the summer after I started this blog--about another memorable July 4th, in 1991 when I was living in Put-in-Bay, Ohio. It is a tale that goes from bad to awful to worse. It is chronicled in four parts over four days (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)--and worth every second it takes to read it if you haven't read it before.

Also, it was on a 4th of July many years ago, during a college summer, that my roommates and I accidentally re-invented Harry Buffalo and got our entire block drunk. We called it Yak water. It was delicious, though I've never been able to look at a Kiwi the same way again.

Oh, sweet Independence, how we make a mockery of you.

New PoP guest post: DC Demystification

Somebody stole Tony's rose bush
Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine

I have a new guest post on the Prince of Petworth site, seeking advice about how to translate the sometimes strange and unusual complexities of city living to those who don't live here.

This all started when Katherine and I started to notice that neither set of parents had visited us in our new home after living there for 18 months.

Then I realized that when you totalled up the stories I tend to tell about our neighborhood, it ends up sounding like a terrible place.

Quote:

"But in fairness, when I’m telling stories, I go for the colorful and entertaining, I’m not shooting for high journalistic objectivity and fairness. However, I admit that the end product does come off a bit askew.
Going solely off my solely-for-entertainment-value stories, the unfamiliar might be left with the impression that Petworth is a place where bullets fly daily, bugs and rodents conduct their own ANC meetings, the Sunday paper contains coupons for local heroin and crack dealers, and residents mope down the street openly weeping."

Here's a link to the whole thing.

Net Curtain Lurkers

"you are a Vampire who never knew
what life was until it ran out
in a big gush over your lips."
Originally uploaded by Amadika

A belated but fun review of The Dead Travel Fast on the blog Net Curtain Lurkers.

The best part of the review is getting a chance to look around their blog, which calls itself "A Hilarious Look at the 30 Year Feud Between Paranormal Authors David Farrant and Sean Manchester Over The Highgate Vampire."

For those who've read TDFT, you'll recall a few pages discussing the wackiness surrounding Highgate Cemetery, the infamous vampire hunt that occurred there in 1970, and the odd characters involved. The site has a lot of details and plenty of links to related sites.

Most interesting, the first comment on the review is from David Farrant himself (who says he read and enjoyed TDFT--fancy that).

[Link]

Do you use Twitter? Do you like frog jokes?

Do you use Twitter? Do you like frog jokes?
Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine

As noted on the wall of our local ice cream shop (by my lovely and observant wife).

"If I was a dead person, where would I be hiding?"

Getting dark
Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine

I helicoptered into Mansfield, Ohio this weekend (not literally, mind you) to do some work for my new book. I went to spend the night in the old Mansfield Reformatory.

Mansfield was once Ohio's main prison and it's huge--more than 250,000 square feet. It has the largest free-standing cell block in the world--two of them in fact--each six stories high, featuring over 1,100 cells. At one time, Ohio's death row was housed here. More than 200 people died here in the 90 years it was a functioning correction facility.

You've probably seen Mansfield before, as it is regularly used as a movie set. Shawshank Redemption was filmed here, as well as parts of Air Force One and Tango & Cash.

The facility was pretty much abandoned in 1990. Since 1995, a preservation group has maintained the site and conducts tours on Sunday afternoons.

Mansfield is something between a historic ruin and an EPA Superfund site in the making. Lead-paint peels off the walls and ceilings, asbestos and plaster dust are everywhere, rusty metal, missing guardrails, loose stairs and on and on.

It's a challenge to go through in the daytime...but what about at night?

Several times a year a group of the preservationists bring outsiders into the prison to document its supposed paranormal activity. Unlike other paranormal sites, where people feel cold breezes, light touches, or see a floating head or something--Mansfield's interactions with the dead are on a different level. People are grabbed, punched, shoved, and pushed. Things are thrown.

So the deal is that the crew go in with you at 8pm, right before dark, and give you a tour to help get you adjusted. Then they turn off the lights. Then it slowly gets dark. Then you are free to roam the entire prison structure, almost completely unrestricted. Sounds crazy? I know, it is. The gate on the property opens from the inside, so once you walk out, you were done for the night. I, and a handful of brave souls, stayed until 5 a.m.

Now, the point of this is to eventually sell some books, so I shouldn't really tell you what happened to me or the others, but let's just say it was probably the most frightening night of my entire life. Seriously.

The head of the ghost hunt crew took me through in the afternoon so I could see what it looks like, pictures are here (and quite fascinating). I took a few pictures at night (here), but I was far too busy to be snapping photos. Something I normally don't do, but did at Mansfield, was record some video. I shot about an hour's worth. Below is the first video I put together, which should give you a taste of what it was like.

And if you are patient...you can hear a ghost talking at the end of the video!

Very spooky!

Postcard to Bobalu

postcard to bobalu
Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine

Another relic from the great basement purge of '09.

We always called my mother's mother "Bobalu" instead of Grandma/Grandmother/Grannie/whatever. When I was born, my parents were slightly concerned about me getting confused by calling two women "Grandma" (though this hasn't seemed to be a problem for billions of other children). 

Then my Grandmother, who was quite a character, exclaimed, "How about he call me..." then she started singing, "Bob-a-lu!"

For those unfamiliar with 1940s Latin jazz music and/or "I Love Lucy," "Babalu" was a big hit for Desi Arnaz.

So, with a slight change in spelling, my grandmother became Bobalu--and it seemed like the most normal thing in the world to me.

The photo is a postcard I wrote to Bobalu when I was 10.

Fables

REM backstage pass
Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine

Time for another excerpt from my ever-expanding and hopefully-finished-this-summer memoir Bring Me To Heaven. Since I work on this every day, it only seems appropriate to post excerpts while I'm working (though it won't be out for some time).

While I've been purging junk from the basement, I ran across this backstage pass that made me think to share the following excerpt. (Though, to be clear, the pass isn't connected to the story. The pass came from a tour later that same year.)

This comes from about half-way through the book, where the narrative structure breaks down for about 15 pages and it just becomes a series of small vignettes. At the time, I was pretty close to proverbial "rock bottom," so my life didn't really have a narrative structure at that point--it was just a series of clusterfuck and dumbass antics.

Anyhow, this vignette is pretty self-contained, no set-up required.

"Put question marks on your knees," I said.

He took the stencil, found the question mark, placed it over his knee, and then ran the ink roller over the open stencil. After lifting it away, the left knee of his jeans had a silver question mark. A moment later, the right one had its own question mark as well.

"Why don’t you put an 'E-N-D' down here," I said, pointing to his cuff.

"No words," was his reply.

"Then try this," I said, taking the stencil and roller, and putting "L-M-N-O" and half of a "P" down his right calf.

I looked up and he almost smiled behind his sunglasses.

Seven days earlier I'd received a postcard from the R.E.M. fan club informing me of a string of tour dates that ran through the Midwest. Three days after that I woke up and impulsively decided that I was going to attend as many as I could. I took all the cash I could lay my hands on and took off, with nothing other some clothes, a warm six-pack, and that postcard. Two days later, I’d only managed to get into one show and only had thirty-five dollars left. I knew I needed to get creative.

Supercycle!

It's still a Super-Cycle!
Originally uploaded by gardinergirl

When I was eight, I decided that I wanted to write books. So I did. While my most elaborate work was a military action story staring my friend Robbie Compton, my first tome was "Supercycle."

After I'd finished "Supercycle," my mother typed it up as I'd written it, photocopied and stapled a few copies (bound in red plastic) and mailed them to my grandmothers.

In my mind, I was a published author.

In the great basement purge of '09, I found one of the original "Supercycle'' books. Below is the text of "Supercycle," pretty much in it's entirety, as it appears in that book.

SUPERCYCLE PART I

SUPERCYCLE

"On planet Mars," said my friend Ted. "The Martians are bikes."

I said, "No way, Ted."

"Maybe!" he said.

"O.K. Ted, I'm waiting." I said to him.

"O.K."

A long long long long time ago, on Mars, the Martians are bikes. On the 12th of Never. A baby was born. But on Mars it's a blessing. They name him Cycle, Jr. Because his mother's name was Handlebars. And father's Cycle. He was called Cycle Jr. because his father was the Mayor of Mars.

On day it was 10,000 degrees F. Too hot to live on. Spaceships are sent out! Cycle Jr's mother and father died of heat rays! Spaceships are blowing up. Mars life is dead. The spaceship carrying Cycle Jr is the last one. It’s in Earth's Inerzone! Crash! For ten years asleep. 

At the age of 11 he waked up. In two days he had "SUPERPOWERS."

Necessity is the mother of invention

scene march 27 1996
Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine

I was going through some boxes in the basement this week and came across this. It is from Scene Magazine in Cleveland from March of 1996.

I think the only reason I kept it was because I was so blown away by this person's creative genius.

Not only does he get people to send him free home-made porn, but they enclose some cash as well.

Why don't I ever think of these kinds of things.

Come to think of it, I'm not sure I want a bunch of Scene classified-reading Clevelanders sending me their home-made porn.

Happy birthday Katie

So my wife Katherine's birthday was this past week and we decided to celebrate as part of a combo-party along with my friend Matt's housewarming.

Now, few things bring Katherine more joy than spending time with her friends, but I wanted to try to raise the bar...just a little bit.

So what would you do to make a girl's birthday party special? A pony? Problematic at Matt's new apartment, seeing there is a 24/7 attendant in the lobby. A clown? No, Meghan...has a thing about clowns.

Then, of course, my mind went to getting...a magician.

After some searching, I found just the right one, Vick. He was great.

Below is some video of him using our friend Meghan as his assistant.