Tailgating , the Return of Fall & A Country Breaking Apart

This blog is all over the place, like me. Chasing squirrels.

Waking up Saturday, it felt like waking up to a new season. The weather was perfect—overcast with cool temperatures. I decided it was finally the day to put up all the fall decorations, once and for all. Yvette and Alaya went over to my in-laws’ for some menudo, so there really wasn’t a better time to get them out. Alaya would have been very interested in what I was doing—bless her—but that would’ve made things a bit more complicated.

I decked the house out in pumpkins. The gods must have inspired me to feel autumnal, because I was even able to live-stream the Texas Tech football game on HBO Max. Nothing sets the mood for fall quite like pumpkins, cool cloudy weather, and college football. I made a cup of coffee, curled up in my chair, and proceeded to bask in the glory of pumpkin season.

The first Ram Jam of the 2025 fall semester. We had a tradition to uphold, and attending was non-negotiable. This year, though, things were a little different. The event was under new oversight—Special Events had taken over for Alumni after the campus absorbed the Alumni Association. As an experienced attendee, I definitely noticed the changes. It was not as smooth an operation—but that’s not surprising. Nothing the campus touches ever runs smoothly.

One of the most noticeable changes was how alcohol was managed at the Alumni Center. If you had a drink outside, you could not bring it into the building. If you wanted one while inside, you could order it there, but then you could not take it back outside. It made zero sense. Honestly, I think it only encouraged me to drink more—because if we were going outside, like hell I was leaving an unfinished drink behind.

The turnout was great, and the weather was just about as perfect as it could get. And the food… I love the returning vendors. One of them always has the best damn ribs. Every year, that is one of the highlights. I think I must have had four by the time we left. Let me just say—I ate very well.

We also walked away with a bunch of free shirts. Had I known years ago how many freebies they give out at Ram Jam, I would have never bought a university t-shirt. That Saturday alone, I walked away with three new shirts—and this was just the first Ram Jam of the year.

Sunday was another lazy day. We slept in. It was nice. I got roasted by the family for being a bottomless pit—I guess I ate about half the leftover pizza. I knew I had some, but I did not realize how much. Oops. Apparently Teegan wanted leftovers for lunch. To make up for it, I found some ground beef and made two burgers.

Later, I curled up in my chair and put on the movie Hostiles. It is a Western that came out not that long ago—well, actually, almost 10 years ago. For fuck’s sake, I am getting old. The years are flying by. 2017 does not feel that long ago, but it sure as shit is a long time ago.

When it first came out, I remember liking it, but I do not think I was really in the mood at the time. It was released the same month my father passed away, and I remember thinking how much I would have liked watching it with him. I appreciate the film much more today.

Anyway, I digress. Such an amazing cast. I love Christian Bale as Captain Blocker and Wes Studi as Yellow Hawk. Two great actors with incredible presence. Studi has been a force ever since I first saw him in The Last of the Mohicans over thirty years ago. He has portrayed many iconic Native American roles since then.

Beautifully directed by Scott Cooper, Hostiles is set in 1892 during the American-Indian Wars. It explores the oppression of Native Americans and the brutality inflicted on both sides. The white settlers were absolutely the worst in their treatment of the Native people. There can be no forgiveness for the crimes committed against them.

The film does not shy away from showing how awful humans can be to one another. Children die. Women are raped. It is the worst of humanity in a nutshell. A gut-punch of reality. But it is also a story about the possibility of transformation—about how shared experience and understanding can change people.

Blocker and Yellow Hawk have both committed atrocities against each other’s people in the name of what they believed. Sworn enemies, now forced to work together for a common cause. It’s a journey toward redemption and mutual understanding. At the end of the day, we are all fundamentally the same—despite the different doctrines we live by. This is relative right now in this country.

Monday was a real pisser. It was my first week back on office duty since mid-July, and I was restless. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before—Yvette and I had stayed up watching a movie way past our bedtime, which made for a groggy day for both of us. I powered through with as much convention as I could muster. Office weeks make me feel like a bird with clipped wings.

After work, I took Teegan’s car to have the tires checked. Yvette noticed that the rear passenger tire looked a little low. The guys at Discount Tire found a screw while checking the gauge. Typical. Lucky for us, it was fixable. Nine out of ten times, the damage is in the sidewall, and you’re screwed. At least something was in my favor on this dreadful Monday. I know—how dramatic.

The family plumber arrived Tuesday during my lunch break. We had a leaking bathtub faucet that needed attention. Luckily, it was a relatively easy fix—though still expensive for the plumber’s time. He’s been fixing our family’s plumbing for 40 years, starting with my parents. It’s funny—I’ve known him for such a long time. I wasn’t even in elementary school when my parents first had him over, and now I’m the one calling him for my own plumbing needs, all these years later.

The man is now 75 years old and has no plans to retire if he can help it.

Oh, the joys of mounting expenses. I’m really getting sick of all these financial obligations. There’s my medical bills, the damn tree limb situation, and now the plumbing. I’m struggling to keep my head above water with these added expenses that just keep sneaking into my life. I swear, as soon as you get one thing taken care of and checked off your list, another one shows up to take its place. Everything is already too damn expensive, and these added costs make the struggle a wicked bitch to overcome.

A little seriousness now.

I try not to get overtly political in these blogs. Who wants that? Politics is shoved in our faces from every direction. But the events of this week have left me unable to look away. It’s been on my mind: the targeted and fatal shooting of Charlie Kirk on Wednesday afternoon.

I had not even heard the name of this man before, and yet the country is suddenly in an uproar over his tragic death. Killing someone over a disagreement is unacceptable. It will never be acceptable. Civil discourse is always an option. A disagreement—especially over politics—should never result in violence.

This wasn’t orchestrated—at least, not as far as we know. It wasn’t “the right vs. the left.” It wasn’t an attack by a collective group sharing an ideology. It was one man. One incredibly unwell and intensely radicalized individual. So let’s stop pretending this is a party issue. I know plenty of Republicans who would never dream of doing this. I know plenty of Democrats who would never dream of doing this. To blame an entire side is lazy, divisive, and flat-out wrong. Let’s not fall into the trap of listening to our so-called “Dear Leader”, who seems hell-bent on sowing division at every opportunity.

Talk about division, Trump ordered flags to fly at half-mast in response to Charlie Kirk’s murder. Depending on one’s political views, Kirk was either seen as a great man or a deeply controversial piece of shit. Or like me, a total unknown. But here’s my problem: flags are meant to be lowered to half-mast when the entire nation is in mourning—typically for government officials, national tragedies, or foreign dignitaries. In this case, neither condition applies. Was it horrific? Yes. But gun violence happens every single day in this country. If we’re not doing anything to stop it, then by that logic, the flag should always be at half-mast—not just when a friend of the our president is killed. If it’s someone that disagrees with the Trump, he sure doesn’t fly flags half-mast when they are targeted for murder. The way the government responded to the event highlighted its bias.

What we as a country need to do, as a favor to one another, is pull our heads out of our asses and come together in moments of tragedy. That’s how it should be. Instead, everyone began spewing vitriol at each other. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given the hatred that pours out of our president’s mouth whenever he opens it. He was already blaming the “radical left” for Charlie Kirk’s death before the facts were even known. There wasn’t even a suspect in custody and Trump was already fueling ignorance with more hate.

“Lead by example”? What a joke. Trump is the embodiment of what we shouldn’t want in a leader. It’s hard to believe I once thought he could possibly help the country. I was wrong.

To say the least, I was disappointed by many people’s reactions, otherwise I wouldn’t have written this portion of my blog.

Doing my own research into Charlie Kirk, I found him to be a polarizing figure. But that doesn’t change the fact that what happened to him was horrible. Just fucking horrible. Charlie Kirk didn’t deserve this. His family didn’t deserve this. Now, they are the ones who must suffer because of senseless violence. I sincerely wish the fighting would end and that we could all come together for the common good.

The reactions since have been equally heartbreaking—from both sides of the political spectrum.

People on the left celebrating his death? You’re almost as awful as the man who pulled the trigger. People on the right calling for war against “the libs,” as if one shooter represents millions of people? That’s equally disgusting.

Our response to tragedy defines our character. And right now, I really worry about what this says about our country.

I want more empathy in this country. Not bitterness. Not hypocrisy. Not selective outrage or exploitation. I still have faith in people—that we are all inherently good at heart. That we are capable of grace, even when we disagree. I know that we are. Please, prove me right.

After the events of the day Yvette and I went for happy hour and fried mushrooms. We needed a break from the world. Such heavy bullshit.

Horror season 2025 is here!

What a time! My favorite time of the year. It’s no surprise that it also happens during autumn, when the temperatures drop and pumpkins are aplenty.

I decided to kick off the season with the first official film: The Cabin in the Woods. A great horror-comedy that throws all tropes out the window. I love how it features a major twist that was never actually hidden from the viewer—it’s introduced right at the beginning. Somehow, the previews never once spoiled it. I’ll say little more about the plot because I’d hate to be the person who spoiled a thirteen-year-old film for someone.

I still remember seeing this one for the first time in the theater. I only had a vague idea of what to expect. I’ve always loved horror films set in remote locations, but what I got was so much more. That Nine Inch Nails song blasting during the credits—and the goosebumps I had? What a great feeling. It was fresh horror that I devoured.

The film was released in the spring of 2012. If I recall correctly, not many good horror movies were getting wide theatrical releases at the time. If you wanted to find horror, you had to hunt it down on video or get lucky and find it streaming on Netflix. The other option was to purchase it from Amazon or Apple. That was about all we had back in the day. I kind of miss the simplicity.

The Cabin in the Woods ranks high on my list of most enjoyable horror films. It’s just a fun ride you want to climb back on, especially because it benefits from multiple viewings.

Seemed appropriate to kick the season off with a banger.