<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0" xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd"><channel><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty]]></title><description><![CDATA[My name is Chris Beaty and I like to tell stories. Some of my stories are funny. Some of them are dumb But if I do it right, they're all entertaining. This is stuff that happened to me, I think you might like it.  <br/><br/><a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com/s/talking?utm_medium=podcast">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/s/talking</link><generator>Substack</generator><lastBuildDate>Tue, 09 Jun 2026 13:47:51 GMT</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/2376831/s/112030.rss" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><author><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></author><copyright><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></copyright><language><![CDATA[en]]></language><webMaster><![CDATA[csbeaty1@gmail.com]]></webMaster><itunes:new-feed-url>https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/2376831/s/112030.rss</itunes:new-feed-url><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:subtitle>Things I&apos;ve written narrated by people who read them.

Something will be in here once I figure out how podcasts work. </itunes:subtitle><itunes:type>episodic</itunes:type><itunes:owner><itunes:name>C.S. Beaty</itunes:name><itunes:email>csbeaty1@gmail.com</itunes:email></itunes:owner><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:category text="Society &amp; Culture"/><itunes:category text="Comedy"/><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/s/112030/3209940ec88594a1ba3b5260fd48f0c3.jpg"/><item><title><![CDATA[Interesting People: Tech Bro and Friend-of-the-Homeless Kiley Sheehy]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p></p><p><p>Put your email in the thing and meet more interesting people. </p></p><p>Today’s guest is my very first work friend,</p><p>(00:00:38):</p><p>who went on to quit that job,</p><p>(00:00:40):</p><p>join a cool Silicon Valley startup,</p><p>(00:00:42):</p><p>and move in with homeless people.</p><p>(00:00:45):</p><p>Kylie Sheehy.</p><p>(00:00:47):</p><p>I can’t hear you.</p><p>(00:00:48):</p><p>This is off to an awesome start.</p><p>(00:00:51):</p><p>Here, is it?</p><p>(00:00:51):</p><p>Did I fix it?</p><p>(00:00:52):</p><p>Yeah, there you go.</p><p>(00:00:53):</p><p>There we go.</p><p>(00:00:54):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:00:55):</p><p>I got a lot of microphones.</p><p>(00:00:56):</p><p>I’m just like very savvy and technologically advanced.</p><p>(00:01:00):</p><p>Well I can tell because you got like some weird headset and what’s your fake</p><p>(00:01:04):</p><p>background fading in and out of?</p><p>(00:01:07):</p><p>This is actually a screenshot I took of a team’s background that I like better but</p><p>(00:01:16):</p><p>then when it’s too small for Zoom so it’s so vixly it looks absolutely fake but</p><p>(00:01:23):</p><p>that’s what we got.</p><p>(00:01:25):</p><p>So you’re like pretending to be in some random apartment?</p><p>(00:01:29):</p><p>It could be my apartment.</p><p>(00:01:31):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(00:01:31):</p><p>but we know it’s not because it’s like every time you move it goes like the</p><p>(00:01:34):</p><p>background is this.</p><p>(00:01:36):</p><p>Maybe I live in the future.</p><p>(00:01:39):</p><p>Where nothing works.</p><p>(00:01:41):</p><p>Technology is even worse.</p><p>(00:01:43):</p><p>It’s all been broken and it’s going to kill us.</p><p>(00:01:46):</p><p>Yeah, that sounds like the present day and the future.</p><p>(00:01:50):</p><p>See?</p><p>(00:01:52):</p><p>Get on my level.</p><p>(00:01:54):</p><p>I think we’re recording.</p><p>(00:01:55):</p><p>I don’t even know.</p><p>(00:01:56):</p><p>This is the first time I’ve ever done anything on Zoom,</p><p>(00:01:57):</p><p>and I’ve discovered that the lighting in my office is awful for this.</p><p>(00:02:01):</p><p>So I think this is going to be an audio podcast.</p><p>(00:02:04):</p><p>I don’t know what I prefer.</p><p>(00:02:06):</p><p>Well, good, because your background is making it definitely audio podcast worthy.</p><p>(00:02:14):</p><p>It’s like you’re doing a snow angel in your background, everything you move your arms.</p><p>(00:02:20):</p><p>Kylie Sheehy, what makes you interesting?</p><p>(00:02:22):</p><p>All kinds of things.</p><p>(00:02:26):</p><p>All right so you were born where are you even from yeah great question that’s the</p><p>(00:02:35):</p><p>first thing that makes me interesting I think uh so it’s really just one of my</p><p>(00:02:39):</p><p>superpowers uh that I can be from any hometown at any moment in time I was born in</p><p>(00:02:46):</p><p>Kansas City Kansas and then uh not even the good Kansas City the bad one</p><p>(00:02:52):</p><p>The good one.</p><p>(00:02:53):</p><p>They’re all fine.</p><p>(00:02:53):</p><p>They’re all top notch and they’re all tied for first and then moved to North</p><p>(00:03:00):</p><p>Carolina and then moved to Georgia and then Texas and then Kansas for a short stint</p><p>(00:03:08):</p><p>and then Washington State and then D.C.</p><p>(00:03:13):</p><p>then like Northern Virginia area and then Michigan and then back to Kansas for</p><p>(00:03:19):</p><p>school and then</p><p>(00:03:20):</p><p>Cincinnati for a couple of years and then uh San Francisco and then Austin Wow I</p><p>(00:03:28):</p><p>didn’t I thought it was like three places it’s even worse than I thought no it’s</p><p>(00:03:32):</p><p>better than you thought yeah did you say Detroit don’t you live in Detroit too um</p><p>(00:03:38):</p><p>my parents live in Detroit Michigan is Detroit is in Michigan so when I said</p><p>(00:03:42):</p><p>Michigan that’s what I meant yeah</p><p>(00:03:44):</p><p>Okay, I wasn’t, this is already a really boring podcast.</p><p>(00:03:47):</p><p>I wasn’t even really listening to all that.</p><p>(00:03:49):</p><p>No, that’s interesting.</p><p>(00:03:50):</p><p>So anytime I get into an Uber, someone’s like, oh, I’m from like, whatever.</p><p>(00:03:53):</p><p>I just moved here.</p><p>(00:03:54):</p><p>I’m like, oh my God, me too.</p><p>(00:03:55):</p><p>And then we’re best friends.</p><p>(00:03:57):</p><p>What, yeah.</p><p>(00:03:58):</p><p>What makes you want to be from the Midwest so bad?</p><p>(00:03:59):</p><p>I feel like maybe it’s just you saying that to be like,</p><p>(00:04:04):</p><p>trying to like find some common ground with me.</p><p>(00:04:05):</p><p>But I feel like you always want to claim the Midwest,</p><p>(00:04:07):</p><p>even though it’s like the fourth most frequent place that you’ve lived at.</p><p>(00:04:13):</p><p>I would say I really lean into being one of the supervillains who moved from the</p><p>(00:04:17):</p><p>Bay Area to Austin.</p><p>(00:04:18):</p><p>That’s one of my favorite things.</p><p>(00:04:19):</p><p>That’s like what I like to claim as my my my home, just like as like a concept.</p><p>(00:04:28):</p><p>And then I actively tried to remove the Midwest from my my pedigree.</p><p>(00:04:32):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:04:34):</p><p>Oh,</p><p>(00:04:34):</p><p>so you’re not Midwest now because you were all about it when we first became</p><p>(00:04:37):</p><p>friends,</p><p>(00:04:37):</p><p>but you moved on.</p><p>(00:04:38):</p><p>It’s tough.</p><p>(00:04:39):</p><p>It’s tough because it like comes out of me because it’s just who I am and who my family is.</p><p>(00:04:43):</p><p>But yeah, like on paper, I prefer to be much more glamorously from elsewhere.</p><p>(00:04:52):</p><p>Okay, nevermind.</p><p>(00:04:53):</p><p>I’ve already like, you’re already a different person than I thought you were.</p><p>(00:04:55):</p><p>So your dad, your dad was, all right, it was, was it an army ranger?</p><p>(00:05:00):</p><p>What was your dad?</p><p>(00:05:01):</p><p>Okay, because I think everyone could probably figure this out.</p><p>(00:05:03):</p><p>Whenever you’re from a thousand places, you’re either like homeless or in the army, military.</p><p>(00:05:09):</p><p>So I’m guessing it’s the latter of the two.</p><p>(00:05:11):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:05:13):</p><p>Which, what is former and latter?</p><p>(00:05:15):</p><p>I don’t remember.</p><p>(00:05:15):</p><p>But like,</p><p>(00:05:16):</p><p>interestingly,</p><p>(00:05:16):</p><p>another thing that makes me interesting is that I do live among the homeless,</p><p>(00:05:19):</p><p>formerly homeless.</p><p>(00:05:21):</p><p>So like, we’re kindred spirits in a sense.</p><p>(00:05:24):</p><p>Okay, we’ll get to that part.</p><p>(00:05:25):</p><p>I got like, I got like notes, okay?</p><p>(00:05:26):</p><p>I made notes here.</p><p>(00:05:28):</p><p>So what was your dad’s job that made you like never at home anywhere you were ever at?</p><p>(00:05:34):</p><p>He was in the army.</p><p>(00:05:35):</p><p>He was doing army stuff.</p><p>(00:05:36):</p><p>We actually like had a very long conversation the last time I was home because I</p><p>(00:05:39):</p><p>was like,</p><p>(00:05:40):</p><p>you never told us what your job was.</p><p>(00:05:43):</p><p>And he was like, well, I wasn’t allowed to.</p><p>(00:05:45):</p><p>And I was like, okay.</p><p>(00:05:47):</p><p>He was a ranger, right?</p><p>(00:05:48):</p><p>Because I remember like he used to put around an army ranger water bottle.</p><p>(00:05:51):</p><p>Yeah, my sick water bottle.</p><p>(00:05:53):</p><p>No, Wayne Garrett got mad one day because he was like, what are you doing?</p><p>(00:05:57):</p><p>And I was like, my dad is a ranger.</p><p>(00:05:59):</p><p>And he was like, oh, sorry.</p><p>(00:06:01):</p><p>Yeah, so we were at a work.</p><p>(00:06:05):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(00:06:05):</p><p>for all my three people that are going to listen to this that weren’t in the room</p><p>(00:06:08):</p><p>at the time that happened.</p><p>(00:06:09):</p><p>So we were at a work training where Kyle and I became friends.</p><p>(00:06:12):</p><p>And you had an Army Ranger water bottle.</p><p>(00:06:14):</p><p>And we had this former, what do you know, West Point grad.</p><p>(00:06:18):</p><p>He was a West Pointer, but I don’t know what he did beyond that.</p><p>(00:06:21):</p><p>I don’t think I don’t think he did anything beyond that.</p><p>(00:06:25):</p><p>Because he went to West Point,</p><p>(00:06:26):</p><p>but then he pretty much jumped ship to 100% tailored suits and corporate American</p><p>(00:06:33):</p><p>private jet life.</p><p>(00:06:34):</p><p>To be the director of sales for any product line that they thought that he should</p><p>(00:06:39):</p><p>be in charge of,</p><p>(00:06:40):</p><p>even though he may or may not have known what that product line was.</p><p>(00:06:43):</p><p>He was one of those.</p><p>(00:06:44):</p><p>Yeah, and he saw your water bottle.</p><p>(00:06:46):</p><p>He was ready to just jump down your ass about having this illegal water bottle that</p><p>(00:06:50):</p><p>you don’t deserve to have.</p><p>(00:06:52):</p><p>And then you pulled rank on him.</p><p>(00:06:54):</p><p>Yeah no big time I did.</p><p>(00:06:56):</p><p>So what makes a ranger cool?</p><p>(00:06:58):</p><p>I feel like something about what he said was like you didn’t earn that or something</p><p>(00:07:02):</p><p>and I was like okay and then yeah and then dunked on him.</p><p>(00:07:07):</p><p>I got it from my dad who’s way cooler than you.</p><p>(00:07:11):</p><p>I never had a home my entire adolescence because my dad was busy serving the</p><p>(00:07:15):</p><p>country and defending your rights wing from the jungle and doing rangery stuff.</p><p>(00:07:22):</p><p>So what does an armor range even do?</p><p>(00:07:23):</p><p>Like, I know, like, the Green Berets and the Navy Seals.</p><p>(00:07:25):</p><p>I thought this interview was about me.</p><p>(00:07:27):</p><p>This is not my job.</p><p>(00:07:28):</p><p>Yeah, but this is the interesting stuff.</p><p>(00:07:31):</p><p>The interesting stuff is,</p><p>(00:07:32):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:07:32):</p><p>why is your dad,</p><p>(00:07:32):</p><p>because,</p><p>(00:07:33):</p><p>all right,</p><p>(00:07:33):</p><p>so,</p><p>(00:07:33):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:07:33):</p><p>I got,</p><p>(00:07:34):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:07:34):</p><p>eight things about Colonel Sheehy,</p><p>(00:07:35):</p><p>because I remember you said that it’s all you’d ever talk about when I first got to</p><p>(00:07:38):</p><p>know you.</p><p>(00:07:39):</p><p>You said that he pitched the first pitch at a Detroit Tigers baseball game, and I went, what?</p><p>(00:07:43):</p><p>And you went, well, yeah, Colonel Sheehy has done a bunch of badass s**t.</p><p>(00:07:48):</p><p>So that’s all I know about</p><p>(00:07:50):</p><p>I feel like your origin story is very much in tune with having a dad that was cool</p><p>(00:07:55):</p><p>enough to get an Army Rangers water bottle and do the opening pitch in a Tigers</p><p>(00:07:59):</p><p>game.</p><p>(00:08:00):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:08:00):</p><p>my origin story,</p><p>(00:08:01):</p><p>another thing that makes me interesting,</p><p>(00:08:03):</p><p>my origin story,</p><p>(00:08:05):</p><p>I don’t know if this is in your notes or if I’m skipping around too much.</p><p>(00:08:08):</p><p>Oh, yeah.</p><p>(00:08:08):</p><p>Well, this is a very tight ship.</p><p>(00:08:11):</p><p>So if you skip around, I’ll bring you back in.</p><p>(00:08:14):</p><p>My origin story, my dad was in the Persian Gulf when my mom was pregnant.</p><p>(00:08:19):</p><p>My mom had a very hard pregnancy, like almost died.</p><p>(00:08:21):</p><p>And my dad,</p><p>(00:08:24):</p><p>depending on your perspective,</p><p>(00:08:26):</p><p>leaving anyway was either very heroic or very negligent.</p><p>(00:08:29):</p><p>But it was at the time, it was very patriotic and heroic.</p><p>(00:08:31):</p><p>And we were like this very solid military family.</p><p>(00:08:34):</p><p>And my mom was like, go ahead, I’ll be okay.</p><p>(00:08:36):</p><p>And the other officer’s wives like kind of surrounded her and helped her out.</p><p>(00:08:40):</p><p>And but she just had a very hard pregnancy.</p><p>(00:08:42):</p><p>So she ended up moving back to Kansas where she’s from.</p><p>(00:08:46):</p><p>And when I was born,</p><p>(00:08:48):</p><p>there was like a big to do in the Kansas City Star about whether my dad was going</p><p>(00:08:53):</p><p>to make it or whether I was going to be born like before he got back.</p><p>(00:08:56):</p><p>And it was like a cover story.</p><p>(00:08:58):</p><p>I was like a little famous fetus.</p><p>(00:09:00):</p><p>And then I was a famous new baby and toddler because they kept like checking in on us.</p><p>(00:09:04):</p><p>And so then when I was I didn’t know it was supposed to be deployed for like</p><p>(00:09:08):</p><p>exactly nine months.</p><p>(00:09:09):</p><p>Like what was the I don’t know.</p><p>(00:09:12):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:09:12):</p><p>It’s like how I wasn’t there yet.</p><p>(00:09:14):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:09:16):</p><p>So he was gonna make it back.</p><p>(00:09:19):</p><p>And then, yeah, he was gonna make it back.</p><p>(00:09:22):</p><p>It was a big cover story.</p><p>(00:09:23):</p><p>And so then by the time he was like the news,</p><p>(00:09:25):</p><p>I got out that this like veteran was coming home,</p><p>(00:09:27):</p><p>like there’s all these like news stations and stuff like at my Nani and Papa’s</p><p>(00:09:31):</p><p>house.</p><p>(00:09:32):</p><p>And then my mom was on the TV all the time.</p><p>(00:09:33):</p><p>And she hates it because she was just like,</p><p>(00:09:36):</p><p>She’s very short.</p><p>(00:09:36):</p><p>So she was like huge and pregnant.</p><p>(00:09:38):</p><p>She was like, I hate these cameras in my face.</p><p>(00:09:41):</p><p>But then I was born March 15th.</p><p>(00:09:43):</p><p>And then my very first like homecoming was a huge St.</p><p>(00:09:47):</p><p>Patrick’s Day party on March 17th for St.</p><p>(00:09:49):</p><p>Patrick’s Day.</p><p>(00:09:49):</p><p>So like my origin story is full of a lot of really compelling lore.</p><p>(00:09:54):</p><p>So it’s like the at the zoo and it’s like baby watch for the baby gorilla.</p><p>(00:09:57):</p><p>And I was super excited about it.</p><p>(00:09:59):</p><p>But you were the baby gorilla.</p><p>(00:10:00):</p><p>I was a baby human child.</p><p>(00:10:01):</p><p>Yes.</p><p>(00:10:02):</p><p>Okay,</p><p>(00:10:02):</p><p>did they do the thing where they ask all the giant donors to submit weird African</p><p>(00:10:06):</p><p>names to name the baby gorilla?</p><p>(00:10:08):</p><p>Yeah, I went into something that’s much more interesting.</p><p>(00:10:11):</p><p>Something people can spell correctly.</p><p>(00:10:13):</p><p>Yeah, I don’t know if Kylie was like, I don’t know, some weird desert in Swahili or something.</p><p>(00:10:18):</p><p>I’d probably have like a way fatter trust fund if we had just done that.</p><p>(00:10:21):</p><p>So, okay, so you did that.</p><p>(00:10:23):</p><p>You were born.</p><p>(00:10:25):</p><p>Then what happened after you were born?</p><p>(00:10:27):</p><p>After I was born?</p><p>(00:10:28):</p><p>That brings us up to you being alive.</p><p>(00:10:29):</p><p>Yeah, cut to today.</p><p>(00:10:35):</p><p>Why did you pick Kansas?</p><p>(00:10:37):</p><p>Was it just the local, the KU thing?</p><p>(00:10:39):</p><p>Like just because you had family ties there?</p><p>(00:10:42):</p><p>Or was there something about you that really wanted to be a Kansas Jayhawk?</p><p>(00:10:45):</p><p>I loved Kansas.</p><p>(00:10:46):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:10:46):</p><p>It was like one of those things,</p><p>(00:10:47):</p><p>like when you’re a senior in high school and you’re like,</p><p>(00:10:49):</p><p>I’m touring campuses,</p><p>(00:10:49):</p><p>like KU was just where I needed to be.</p><p>(00:10:51):</p><p>It was awesome.</p><p>(00:10:53):</p><p>It’s just a beautiful campus.</p><p>(00:10:54):</p><p>Were you living in Kansas then?</p><p>(00:10:56):</p><p>No, I was living in Michigan.</p><p>(00:10:58):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:10:59):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:10:59):</p><p>My dad did Jayhawk and my mom went to K-State.</p><p>(00:11:02):</p><p>Was it in-state tuition?</p><p>(00:11:03):</p><p>No, that doesn’t matter.</p><p>(00:11:03):</p><p>Was it in-state tuition?</p><p>(00:11:05):</p><p>It was.</p><p>(00:11:05):</p><p>Again, because my dad was a veteran, so I got in-state at Kansas.</p><p>(00:11:11):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:11:13):</p><p>I’ve had three guests, and you’re the second of the three that had that exact same setup.</p><p>(00:11:18):</p><p>Was it because you had a parent that was military,</p><p>(00:11:20):</p><p>so you had to do in-state tuition because that was where you were?</p><p>(00:11:23):</p><p>Well, it wasn’t where I was.</p><p>(00:11:24):</p><p>Where your parents were from, though, right?</p><p>(00:11:26):</p><p>Because you had to do it anywhere.</p><p>(00:11:28):</p><p>I think we could have done it anywhere at the time,</p><p>(00:11:30):</p><p>like whatever the Obama administration had set up for kids of veterans.</p><p>(00:11:33):</p><p>It was like any, I think, state school.</p><p>(00:11:36):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:11:37):</p><p>You had a way better deal than my first guest, though.</p><p>(00:11:39):</p><p>Either that or he was way worse at understanding how that program works.</p><p>(00:11:43):</p><p>That’s, I think, much more possible.</p><p>(00:11:45):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:11:45):</p><p>He’s like, I could only live in Omaha or Hawaii, and I picked Omaha.</p><p>(00:11:49):</p><p>Yeah, he doesn’t know what’s going on.</p><p>(00:11:54):</p><p>Do you think he thought Oahu and Omaha were the same place?</p><p>(00:11:57):</p><p>You might have.</p><p>(00:11:58):</p><p>I mean, you could listen to the podcast yourself, but you’re never going to.</p><p>(00:12:01):</p><p>Yeah, you’re definitely not.</p><p>(00:12:03):</p><p>Okay,</p><p>(00:12:04):</p><p>so the only,</p><p>(00:12:05):</p><p>what I know about your time in Kansas,</p><p>(00:12:06):</p><p>because that’s also all you ever talked about when I was friends with you.</p><p>(00:12:10):</p><p>Yeah, well, Jay was like peak living.</p><p>(00:12:14):</p><p>I was, yeah.</p><p>(00:12:14):</p><p>I mean, I am.</p><p>(00:12:15):</p><p>It’s for life.</p><p>(00:12:17):</p><p>Is it really?</p><p>(00:12:18):</p><p>Yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:12:19):</p><p>You’re always, now you’re always a sorority girl.</p><p>(00:12:21):</p><p>That’s how this works?</p><p>(00:12:22):</p><p>Yeah, of course.</p><p>(00:12:23):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:12:25):</p><p>So.</p><p>(00:12:25):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:12:27):</p><p>Okay so sorority and you’re like you took nuns out to bars to share the gospel.</p><p>(00:12:32):</p><p>Yeah yeah I did that.</p><p>(00:12:33):</p><p>Part of your Catholic group.</p><p>(00:12:35):</p><p>Yes.</p><p>(00:12:36):</p><p>How’d you talk them into doing that?</p><p>(00:12:38):</p><p>I mean I still do that.</p><p>(00:12:39):</p><p>That’s like I’m like trying to go get beers with my friend Father Steve who was</p><p>(00:12:44):</p><p>just on Jeopardy actually.</p><p>(00:12:45):</p><p>He yeah I’m gonna go try and get beers with him and my friend Allison in a couple</p><p>(00:12:50):</p><p>weeks to talk lonesome dub and just</p><p>(00:12:52):</p><p>Have him out in the public or like I have I am in my tiny house where I live among</p><p>(00:12:56):</p><p>the homeless formerly homeless of Austin I like brought a bunch of priests over to</p><p>(00:13:00):</p><p>um to bless my tiny house and they like did confessions for some of my neighbors</p><p>(00:13:05):</p><p>and they just like talk to them yeah for sure oh yeah that’s like that’s just my</p><p>(00:13:09):</p><p>norm I’m just like always surrounded by holy holy dudes who can take care of stuff</p><p>(00:13:15):</p><p>yeah I do I try my hardest or like I had a Christmas party not that long ago and it</p><p>(00:13:20):</p><p>had shut down</p><p>(00:13:22):</p><p>And it was, again, at the village.</p><p>(00:13:24):</p><p>There’s, like, shuttles leaving the Christmas party.</p><p>(00:13:27):</p><p>And everyone had left.</p><p>(00:13:27):</p><p>Like, we’re, like, shutting it down.</p><p>(00:13:29):</p><p>Me and my friend are walking back to my house after we’d walked a bunch of people</p><p>(00:13:31):</p><p>to the shuttle.</p><p>(00:13:31):</p><p>And she’s going to help me tear down.</p><p>(00:13:33):</p><p>And out of the corner of my eye,</p><p>(00:13:34):</p><p>I see,</p><p>(00:13:34):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:13:35):</p><p>four dudes in collars just,</p><p>(00:13:36):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:13:37):</p><p>sneaking up my patio.</p><p>(00:13:38):</p><p>And I was like, what the heck?</p><p>(00:13:38):</p><p>And it was four priests who were like,</p><p>(00:13:40):</p><p>hey,</p><p>(00:13:40):</p><p>yeah,</p><p>(00:13:40):</p><p>we had a bunch of other Christmas parties to get to today.</p><p>(00:13:42):</p><p>But we wanted to make sure we got here.</p><p>(00:13:44):</p><p>And so they just shut it down.</p><p>(00:13:46):</p><p>They just came up.</p><p>(00:13:49):</p><p>So yeah,</p><p>(00:13:49):</p><p>you just got to have holy people in your life who show up and want to make sure you</p><p>(00:13:53):</p><p>make it to heaven.</p><p>(00:13:54):</p><p>What kind of party is a party with four presets?</p><p>(00:14:01):</p><p>I mean, they were down.</p><p>(00:14:03):</p><p>They’re always down.</p><p>(00:14:04):</p><p>They want to be among the people.</p><p>(00:14:05):</p><p>They want to know what we’re up to so they can pull us back up and out of it.</p><p>(00:14:10):</p><p>It’s like them reorienting their mission.</p><p>(00:14:12):</p><p>Be like, no, there is a place for me.</p><p>(00:14:14):</p><p>I do have lost sheep to save.</p><p>(00:14:17):</p><p>Yes, big time.</p><p>(00:14:18):</p><p>They’re like, well, they’ve wandered way further than we could have even thought.</p><p>(00:14:25):</p><p>You’ve always been fascinated me for so many reasons.</p><p>(00:14:27):</p><p>One is you’re my token Catholic friend who I always ask Catholic questions to.</p><p>(00:14:31):</p><p>And I never really know if I’m getting like,</p><p>(00:14:33):</p><p>you’re like the,</p><p>(00:14:34):</p><p>you’re like my version of the Pope.</p><p>(00:14:36):</p><p>Like my representation of all of Roman Catholicism goes through your interpretation of it.</p><p>(00:14:40):</p><p>You know, that’s like a dangerous thing.</p><p>(00:14:41):</p><p>You’re not really supposed to do that.</p><p>(00:14:42):</p><p>Yeah, it probably is.</p><p>(00:14:43):</p><p>But I also, I mean, so is the other institution, but you know.</p><p>(00:14:47):</p><p>No, no.</p><p>(00:14:47):</p><p>I mean, like anytime you’re like this one person represents the whole deal.</p><p>(00:14:51):</p><p>It’s like, it’s just like not, it’s not very sound.</p><p>(00:14:55):</p><p>No?</p><p>(00:14:55):</p><p>Well, even when it’s you?</p><p>(00:14:59):</p><p>I’m probably the exception.</p><p>(00:15:00):</p><p>So in my experience,</p><p>(00:15:01):</p><p>then,</p><p>(00:15:02):</p><p>all Catholics are just like you who take a bunch of priests to Christmas parties</p><p>(00:15:07):</p><p>and priests that have been on Jeopardy.</p><p>(00:15:09):</p><p>So apparently that’s more common than I think.</p><p>(00:15:12):</p><p>No, I don’t think so.</p><p>(00:15:12):</p><p>I think, again, I think I’m exceptional.</p><p>(00:15:14):</p><p>I’m very interesting.</p><p>(00:15:15):</p><p>That’s why I’m on this podcast.</p><p>(00:15:19):</p><p>Do you feel this is going well so far?</p><p>(00:15:20):</p><p>No, not at all.</p><p>(00:15:22):</p><p>No, yeah, not at all.</p><p>(00:15:25):</p><p>What were your uh all right so somewhere between my total unpreparedness for what</p><p>(00:15:29):</p><p>was going to happen and you like shouting the questions at me am i shouting i don’t</p><p>(00:15:34):</p><p>know i have this fancy podcast mike and i think it’s just like way better quality</p><p>(00:15:37):</p><p>than what you’re used to yeah well this is my little like for my um what’s that</p><p>(00:15:44):</p><p>thing that michael scott did with thickrum you know the phone bank job he moonlit</p><p>(00:15:49):</p><p>that’s what it reminds me of</p><p>(00:15:52):</p><p>The headset when he did telemarketing?</p><p>(00:15:55):</p><p>Telemarketing, that’s the word I’m looking for.</p><p>(00:15:57):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:15:59):</p><p>It reminds you of telemarketing.</p><p>(00:16:01):</p><p>Yeah, me too, now that you say it.</p><p>(00:16:06):</p><p>That’s another interesting thing.</p><p>(00:16:09):</p><p>I did that at Kansas.</p><p>(00:16:10):</p><p>That’s one of the reasons I loved Kansas so much because I had the most bomb-ass</p><p>(00:16:13):</p><p>job of my whole life.</p><p>(00:16:13):</p><p>I was like a telemarketer for the Alumni Association, not the Endowment Association.</p><p>(00:16:18):</p><p>And I would just call alum relentlessly and be like, hey, I’m Kylie.</p><p>(00:16:22):</p><p>Please give to the university.</p><p>(00:16:23):</p><p>And they’d be like, okay, you sound great.</p><p>(00:16:26):</p><p>I feel like everything that you talk about being awesome is stuff that I would hate.</p><p>(00:16:30):</p><p>Like being a telemarketer, like hanging out with priests.</p><p>(00:16:34):</p><p>living with homeless people like these all sound terrible to me to be fair I live</p><p>(00:16:38):</p><p>in my own home well yeah I love living the gospel I think it’s really important to</p><p>(00:16:43):</p><p>live the beatitudes and like to be a person who has a charitable heart and does</p><p>(00:16:48):</p><p>good work and also what do you got what do you got for that and also calls people</p><p>(00:16:53):</p><p>for to give them money well the university needs money how are we going to get</p><p>(00:16:57):</p><p>these like kids from western Kansas educated</p><p>(00:17:01):</p><p>That’s the fascinating thing to me.</p><p>(00:17:03):</p><p>I think a lot of people would resonate with this idea of those are good things,</p><p>(00:17:07):</p><p>but they’re like,</p><p>(00:17:08):</p><p>I don’t want to do it.</p><p>(00:17:09):</p><p>But you do it.</p><p>(00:17:10):</p><p>You like it.</p><p>(00:17:11):</p><p>You like this kind of stuff.</p><p>(00:17:14):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:17:15):</p><p>I like actually doing the work instead of watching all these little pussies run</p><p>(00:17:18):</p><p>around,</p><p>(00:17:19):</p><p>sniveling about how everything is busted and sitting on their candy bar eating</p><p>(00:17:23):</p><p>asses all day.</p><p>(00:17:27):</p><p>Okay, you’ve alluded to it, then I don’t even understand.</p><p>(00:17:29):</p><p>So what is, what are you, like these homeless people?</p><p>(00:17:31):</p><p>I mean,</p><p>(00:17:32):</p><p>now we’re going out of my like little notes here,</p><p>(00:17:35):</p><p>but talk about your homeless people thing since now we buried the lead.</p><p>(00:17:39):</p><p>What is your homeless person gig now then?</p><p>(00:17:42):</p><p>My gig?</p><p>(00:17:44):</p><p>I am what’s called a missional at...</p><p>(00:17:48):</p><p>Community First Village in Austin, Texas.</p><p>(00:17:50):</p><p>So it is a master playing community of tiny homes and PMRVs and the first 3D</p><p>(00:17:56):</p><p>printed homes in the United States are there.</p><p>(00:17:57):</p><p>Icon Homes built their houses.</p><p>(00:17:59):</p><p>Wait, what?</p><p>(00:18:00):</p><p>Icon?</p><p>(00:18:00):</p><p>Like legit 3D printed?</p><p>(00:18:02):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(00:18:02):</p><p>there’s like an arm out there that like squeezes these houses out and my neighbors</p><p>(00:18:07):</p><p>live in them.</p><p>(00:18:08):</p><p>Holy cow.</p><p>(00:18:09):</p><p>Pretty sick.</p><p>(00:18:10):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:18:11):</p><p>One of the gentlemen he just passed.</p><p>(00:18:13):</p><p>I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything 3D print something that’s like larger than a keychain.</p><p>(00:18:17):</p><p>Yeah, it’s cool.</p><p>(00:18:18):</p><p>For a while they used to have,</p><p>(00:18:20):</p><p>now they’re a little bit more comfortable,</p><p>(00:18:22):</p><p>I think just like generally as a company,</p><p>(00:18:23):</p><p>but for a long time they would put these huge tarps up because they didn’t want to,</p><p>(00:18:26):</p><p>or anyone,</p><p>(00:18:27):</p><p>stealing like their IP and like reverse engineering the process.</p><p>(00:18:30):</p><p>It’s super cool.</p><p>(00:18:31):</p><p>They’re made out of this proprietary material called Lavacrete, but I digress.</p><p>(00:18:35):</p><p>So it’s a master plan community right now there’s like a few there’s like 500 and</p><p>(00:18:41):</p><p>change homes like ultimately they’re supposed to be like well over 1000.</p><p>(00:18:45):</p><p>And the mission is empowering communities to live.</p><p>(00:18:50):</p><p>Oh shoot I know the mission I’m doing a bad job.</p><p>(00:18:55):</p><p>Empowering communities into a lifestyle of service with the homeless.</p><p>(00:18:59):</p><p>Empowering communities into a lifestyle of service with the homeless.</p><p>(00:19:02):</p><p>And so we are really strategically focused on bringing men and women out of</p><p>(00:19:08):</p><p>homelessness in the Austin,</p><p>(00:19:10):</p><p>Texas area because all of the research basically supports that homelessness is</p><p>(00:19:15):</p><p>actually a symptom of a catastrophic loss of family.</p><p>(00:19:19):</p><p>And while there are like another of other factors that like usually flow from</p><p>(00:19:24):</p><p>having a catastrophic loss of family or would make a person like homeless,</p><p>(00:19:29):</p><p>like having a mental or physical disability or dependency on alcohol or drugs or</p><p>(00:19:35):</p><p>Any other number of things.</p><p>(00:19:37):</p><p>Or just like traumatic life experience, whatever.</p><p>(00:19:40):</p><p>It’s really catastrophic loss of family.</p><p>(00:19:42):</p><p>That’s like the big catalyst for why a person would end up on the streets.</p><p>(00:19:45):</p><p>So what we, I say loosely, I just live there as like a missional.</p><p>(00:19:51):</p><p>You, you’re the representative of this entire organization.</p><p>(00:19:53):</p><p>Again, just me.</p><p>(00:19:57):</p><p>Not at all.</p><p>(00:19:58):</p><p>So what Mobile Loves and Fishers and Community First Village is trying to do is</p><p>(00:20:02):</p><p>like reconstitute,</p><p>(00:20:03):</p><p>forge family and community for these men and women.</p><p>(00:20:07):</p><p>And so, yeah, so like the village is out there.</p><p>(00:20:09):</p><p>It’s very permanent housing.</p><p>(00:20:11):</p><p>If one of my,</p><p>(00:20:11):</p><p>if my neighbor wants to live in it for the rest of their lives,</p><p>(00:20:14):</p><p>like it’s not a halfway house.</p><p>(00:20:15):</p><p>It’s not a rehab.</p><p>(00:20:16):</p><p>It’s like, it’s a place where they can live.</p><p>(00:20:18):</p><p>It’s a neighborhood.</p><p>(00:20:18):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:20:19):</p><p>We have like a little grocery store,</p><p>(00:20:21):</p><p>we have a bus stop,</p><p>(00:20:22):</p><p>we have like a little shuttle that runs around the neighborhood because most of my</p><p>(00:20:26):</p><p>neighbors have physical or mental or both kind of disabilities so it just makes it</p><p>(00:20:30):</p><p>easier for everybody to get around and it’s also just like hot.</p><p>(00:20:34):</p><p>By C.S.</p><p>(00:20:34):</p><p>Beaty By C.S.</p><p>(00:20:35):</p><p>Beaty By C.S.</p><p>(00:20:35):</p><p>Beaty By C.S.</p><p>(00:20:35):</p><p>Beaty By C.S.</p><p>(00:20:36):</p><p>Beaty By C.S.</p><p>(00:20:36):</p><p>Beaty By C.S.</p><p>(00:20:37):</p><p>Beaty By C.S.</p><p>(00:20:38):</p><p>Beaty By C.S.</p><p>(00:20:39):</p><p>Beaty By C.S.</p><p>(00:21:03):</p><p>The way people interact with the homeless, which is another big part.</p><p>(00:21:09):</p><p>So yeah,</p><p>(00:21:09):</p><p>so I live out there and I like just kind of like live to be of service with my</p><p>(00:21:13):</p><p>neighbors and walk alongside them and just be a friend.</p><p>(00:21:19):</p><p>Is it like a mixed income like model?</p><p>(00:21:21):</p><p>So the idea is like there’s a bunch of people like you that have jobs or whatever</p><p>(00:21:25):</p><p>and like in similar arrangements with the people that don’t have money.</p><p>(00:21:28):</p><p>So that way the overall culture is stronger and</p><p>(00:21:32):</p><p>What not?</p><p>(00:21:32):</p><p>Is that kind of the idea?</p><p>(00:21:33):</p><p>Well, kind of.</p><p>(00:21:36):</p><p>So I feel like your question is ill-informed.</p><p>(00:21:38):</p><p>Okay, inform me.</p><p>(00:21:41):</p><p>So my neighbors...</p><p>(00:21:44):</p><p>By C.S.</p><p>(00:21:44):</p><p>Beaty</p><p>(00:22:05):</p><p>Who works at like a very cool hipster Mexican cantina in town and not her name is</p><p>(00:22:09):</p><p>Kathy and she works at like this restaurant a lot of people work off site like</p><p>(00:22:13):</p><p>there is a one man who’s standing up his own like car detailing business name is</p><p>(00:22:17):</p><p>Joseph so there’s like any number of ways that people are making income out there.</p><p>(00:22:20):</p><p>And they’re all like responsible for their own rent and utilities like any other apartment.</p><p>(00:22:26):</p><p>But then.</p><p>(00:22:29):</p><p>There are there’s like so like I said,</p><p>(00:22:31):</p><p>I’m a missional and there’s probably about 40 other missionals who live out there</p><p>(00:22:35):</p><p>and they’re kind of a mixed bag of like retired folks or there’s like another woman</p><p>(00:22:40):</p><p>who’s about my age.</p><p>(00:22:42):</p><p>But then there’s like a couple of families like there’s all kinds of people who are</p><p>(00:22:46):</p><p>missionals and are just like out there to be of service in one way or another.</p><p>(00:22:50):</p><p>So some of them are working full time.</p><p>(00:22:51):</p><p>Some of them are retired.</p><p>(00:22:53):</p><p>Some of them are working part time.</p><p>(00:22:54):</p><p>Some work</p><p>(00:22:55):</p><p>For Mobile Loaves and Fishes.</p><p>(00:22:57):</p><p>So yeah,</p><p>(00:22:58):</p><p>that group is a very mixed bag,</p><p>(00:23:00):</p><p>but we all kind of have the same charge of empowering communities into a lifestyle</p><p>(00:23:05):</p><p>of service.</p><p>(00:23:06):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:23:07):</p><p>So is that like you applied for that or you get like, okay.</p><p>(00:23:11):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(00:23:11):</p><p>it’s like,</p><p>(00:23:11):</p><p>it’s like a,</p><p>(00:23:12):</p><p>so there’s an application and then there’s like a year long,</p><p>(00:23:14):</p><p>we call it a discernment process where you like,</p><p>(00:23:18):</p><p>there’s like a certain like set of books that you read that are kind of like</p><p>(00:23:21):</p><p>informative of like what the culture is going to be like,</p><p>(00:23:23):</p><p>because it’s a very unique place to live,</p><p>(00:23:27):</p><p>for sure.</p><p>(00:23:28):</p><p>So yeah,</p><p>(00:23:29):</p><p>there’s like kind of like a small curriculum of books that you read,</p><p>(00:23:32):</p><p>you get assigned a mentor with like who you can ask questions,</p><p>(00:23:35):</p><p>you have to live out there,</p><p>(00:23:36):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:23:37):</p><p>for like,</p><p>(00:23:37):</p><p>like a week or two weeks,</p><p>(00:23:38):</p><p>I can’t remember just to like make sure you’re</p><p>(00:23:41):</p><p>You feel called you have to do like a certain number of volunteer hours like we</p><p>(00:23:45):</p><p>have like I mentioned the market or there’s a place called the living room where we</p><p>(00:23:48):</p><p>play like the NBA finals games or we like there’s like a pinball machine or like my</p><p>(00:23:53):</p><p>one of my friends does like a knitting circle there like so just being like part of</p><p>(00:23:56):</p><p>the living room or doing whatever and like there’s an art house like Kendra Scott</p><p>(00:24:01):</p><p>was partnered with the mobile lobes for a long time doing like gig work like my</p><p>(00:24:05):</p><p>neighbors were making some of the bracelets that went on to sell at Kendra Scott so</p><p>(00:24:09):</p><p>yeah</p><p>(00:24:10):</p><p>There’s lots of ways to volunteer and really discern whether that’s the thing that</p><p>(00:24:15):</p><p>you’re meant to be doing.</p><p>(00:24:16):</p><p>Backing up, you and I, we met each other.</p><p>(00:24:18):</p><p>You were doing a sales gig.</p><p>(00:24:20):</p><p>You actually, I think, hated that, which is ironic.</p><p>(00:24:23):</p><p>You hated that.</p><p>(00:24:25):</p><p>Give me the comment how you like all the stuff that other people hate, but you did hate that.</p><p>(00:24:27):</p><p>I hate that a lot.</p><p>(00:24:28):</p><p>I think a lot of people hate sales.</p><p>(00:24:31):</p><p>I do hate sales.</p><p>(00:24:36):</p><p>You told me you hated it back when you were in it.</p><p>(00:24:38):</p><p>Yeah, I hated it.</p><p>(00:24:39):</p><p>I was trying to also tease out that I also hated it, especially in California.</p><p>(00:24:44):</p><p>The people I worked with was very challenging, super toxic.</p><p>(00:24:49):</p><p>I left that job, went to a new job.</p><p>(00:24:51):</p><p>Within the first week I had started that job,</p><p>(00:24:53):</p><p>got served literally legal papers by this sketchy chain-smoking man who was hanging</p><p>(00:24:58):</p><p>out outside my office for two days and then had to testify in court against</p><p>(00:25:05):</p><p>Both the manager who was fired and one who was like quitting because she was like</p><p>(00:25:09):</p><p>being wrongfully turned.</p><p>(00:25:10):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:25:10):</p><p>Like it was such a toxic and crazy place.</p><p>(00:25:12):</p><p>So I was trying.</p><p>(00:25:13):</p><p>I don’t know if I hate sales.</p><p>(00:25:15):</p><p>You hated that job.</p><p>(00:25:18):</p><p>It’s hard to tease that out.</p><p>(00:25:19):</p><p>I can say that somebody’s been in sales for 15 years.</p><p>(00:25:22):</p><p>Sometimes you hate sales.</p><p>(00:25:23):</p><p>Sometimes you just hate being in a company that you’re trying to represent that isn’t terrible.</p><p>(00:25:29):</p><p>Yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:25:30):</p><p>You should totally buy all our stuff because it’s definitely not awful here.</p><p>(00:25:33):</p><p>This company is definitely not terrible.</p><p>(00:25:35):</p><p>We’re doing great.</p><p>(00:25:37):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:25:38):</p><p>Okay,</p><p>(00:25:40):</p><p>so you’re at the Cincinnati office,</p><p>(00:25:41):</p><p>which you go from Cincinnati,</p><p>(00:25:43):</p><p>which is according to Tom Brady’s documentary about the Birmingham Blues that I</p><p>(00:25:46):</p><p>just watched,</p><p>(00:25:47):</p><p>is a very</p><p>(00:25:49):</p><p>By C.S.</p><p>(00:25:49):</p><p>Beaty</p><p>(00:26:11):</p><p>So he doesn’t know.</p><p>(00:26:12):</p><p>But anyway,</p><p>(00:26:12):</p><p>so you go from Cincinnati to Silicon Valley in San Francisco,</p><p>(00:26:15):</p><p>which is like,</p><p>(00:26:16):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(00:26:16):</p><p>I think regardless of Tom Brady’s characterization,</p><p>(00:26:19):</p><p>very,</p><p>(00:26:19):</p><p>very different.</p><p>(00:26:20):</p><p>Is that fair to say?</p><p>(00:26:21):</p><p>Yeah, I think so.</p><p>(00:26:23):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:26:23):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:26:24):</p><p>And then you’re totally Silicon Valley now, like you’re working for startups or whatever.</p><p>(00:26:28):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:26:28):</p><p>you go,</p><p>(00:26:29):</p><p>you do the,</p><p>(00:26:29):</p><p>you work for the same company for a while that I’m currently at,</p><p>(00:26:33):</p><p>which is very corporate,</p><p>(00:26:34):</p><p>big,</p><p>(00:26:35):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(00:26:35):</p><p>behemoth,</p><p>(00:26:36):</p><p>working for the man,</p><p>(00:26:38):</p><p>whatever.</p><p>(00:26:39):</p><p>And then you go to a Silicon Valley startup</p><p>(00:26:41):</p><p>This lady wrote a book about Uncanny Valley, a memoir by Anna.</p><p>(00:26:45):</p><p>Uncanny Valley, yeah.</p><p>(00:26:46):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:26:47):</p><p>I remember I read this book and I told you about it and you’re like, that book is terrible.</p><p>(00:26:51):</p><p>Like you hated it.</p><p>(00:26:52):</p><p>I didn’t hate it.</p><p>(00:26:53):</p><p>I didn’t finish it.</p><p>(00:26:54):</p><p>I did because after I got through the part about the company that I worked at,</p><p>(00:26:58):</p><p>I was like,</p><p>(00:26:59):</p><p>this is not compelling anymore.</p><p>(00:27:00):</p><p>Her writing’s not that good.</p><p>(00:27:02):</p><p>It’s been on the order of years that I was meant to have written a better version.</p><p>(00:27:07):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:27:08):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:27:09):</p><p>I don’t doubt you could have written a better version of that book.</p><p>(00:27:12):</p><p>Yeah, we discussed at length that I could easily have cranked out a better version.</p><p>(00:27:17):</p><p>And then you went and actually wrote a book.</p><p>(00:27:18):</p><p>So now I really have to do it.</p><p>(00:27:21):</p><p>Yeah, no, you definitely have to do that.</p><p>(00:27:22):</p><p>This is a New York Times bestseller book.</p><p>(00:27:23):</p><p>I know.</p><p>(00:27:25):</p><p>You really missed the train on that.</p><p>(00:27:27):</p><p>So I was compelled by that book because I thought like there was a from in my</p><p>(00:27:31):</p><p>perception there’s like this romantic note like I think now we all agree that</p><p>(00:27:35):</p><p>Silicon Valley is awful.</p><p>(00:27:36):</p><p>Like I think most of us like that’s not a hot take anymore.</p><p>(00:27:39):</p><p>Like there’s a lot of downside right like nobody actually likes Mark Zuckerberg anymore.</p><p>(00:27:44):</p><p>Maybe we used to but I don’t think anybody actually likes I used to be a fan.</p><p>(00:27:47):</p><p>I’ll probably be canceled when this gas takes off.</p><p>(00:27:51):</p><p>Yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:27:51):</p><p>Just wait.</p><p>(00:27:52):</p><p>As soon as I hit send, your career’s over.</p><p>(00:27:56):</p><p>Send to the podcast world.</p><p>(00:27:58):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:27:59):</p><p>But when I read that book, I think I was still very much my romantic Silicon Valley period.</p><p>(00:28:04):</p><p>And then that was the first thing I read by a quote unquote insider.</p><p>(00:28:07):</p><p>It was like, no, actually, this is also terrible.</p><p>(00:28:10):</p><p>Like just everything kind of sucks.</p><p>(00:28:12):</p><p>The difference is if you go to a giant company,</p><p>(00:28:14):</p><p>you’re working for people that have had jobs before versus Silicon Valley.</p><p>(00:28:18):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:28:19):</p><p>There are no parents.</p><p>(00:28:20):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:28:20):</p><p>I have no idea what they’re doing.</p><p>(00:28:22):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:28:22):</p><p>I think some of that has changed just because,</p><p>(00:28:24):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:28:25):</p><p>I don’t know if there,</p><p>(00:28:26):</p><p>I would say,</p><p>(00:28:27):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:28:27):</p><p>I feel now,</p><p>(00:28:28):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:28:29):</p><p>so when I was working at that first startup,</p><p>(00:28:31):</p><p>I feel like everyone was kind of my age.</p><p>(00:28:35):</p><p>And so now we’ve all become, like, 30-something.</p><p>(00:28:38):</p><p>So I don’t know.</p><p>(00:28:39):</p><p>Like,</p><p>(00:28:39):</p><p>I feel like we’re all kind of,</p><p>(00:28:40):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:28:40):</p><p>still,</p><p>(00:28:40):</p><p>it’s,</p><p>(00:28:40):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:28:40):</p><p>the same pledge class of,</p><p>(00:28:42):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:28:43):</p><p>people getting older.</p><p>(00:28:44):</p><p>It also feels like a very Silicon Valley thing to say at the same time.</p><p>(00:28:48):</p><p>Did you have an employee number?</p><p>(00:28:49):</p><p>Like employee number or something, something?</p><p>(00:28:52):</p><p>That’s a very Silicon Valley thing.</p><p>(00:28:53):</p><p>I used to.</p><p>(00:28:55):</p><p>Not here, I don’t.</p><p>(00:28:56):</p><p>Because we have, I think we have really close to a thousand people.</p><p>(00:28:58):</p><p>And the company I’ve been at now has been around for like 10 or 12 years.</p><p>(00:29:01):</p><p>So it’s not as important.</p><p>(00:29:03):</p><p>And they IPO’d already, so it doesn’t matter.</p><p>(00:29:05):</p><p>But you were, at one point you had a number when you were in San Francisco.</p><p>(00:29:08):</p><p>Like that’s how cool you were.</p><p>(00:29:10):</p><p>Well, one time I was at a startup where I was like truly like number like 43 or something.</p><p>(00:29:15):</p><p>Yeah, it was hella toxic.</p><p>(00:29:18):</p><p>It was terrible.</p><p>(00:29:18):</p><p>But is that when you like, all right, so you’re at San Francisco for a while.</p><p>(00:29:25):</p><p>You had like three or four different stars, right?</p><p>(00:29:27):</p><p>Or just multiple.</p><p>(00:29:27):</p><p>I don’t know the exact number.</p><p>(00:29:28):</p><p>Yeah, yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:29:31):</p><p>Is that when you decided to go to like do this change your life around to live with</p><p>(00:29:34):</p><p>the amongst the people instead of the tech bros in Austin?</p><p>(00:29:39):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:29:39):</p><p>Well, I mean, I still like nine to five.</p><p>(00:29:41):</p><p>I’m like among my tech bros.</p><p>(00:29:43):</p><p>I haven’t quit the tech bros.</p><p>(00:29:45):</p><p>Okay, so you’re still a tech bro.</p><p>(00:29:46):</p><p>Yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:29:48):</p><p>But is that like what am I five to nine?</p><p>(00:29:49):</p><p>Did you move from San Francisco to Texas to do this?</p><p>(00:29:52):</p><p>No, no.</p><p>(00:29:52):</p><p>I uncovered that like completely.</p><p>(00:29:54):</p><p>So I left SF in 2020, moved to Austin.</p><p>(00:29:58):</p><p>And that was in July when I moved.</p><p>(00:30:02):</p><p>And then in December of that year, like I said, so Alamo Drafthouse has that big</p><p>(00:30:08):</p><p>Amphitheater and they were like they had pivoted like everyone had pivoted from</p><p>(00:30:11):</p><p>like their normal course of action to something else so instead of doing like their</p><p>(00:30:14):</p><p>Friday night movies in this big amphitheater they had made it so that we were doing</p><p>(00:30:19):</p><p>drive-in movies and it was Christmas time and my friends and I were just like</p><p>(00:30:24):</p><p>So desperate for anything to do in 2020 because everything had been shut down and changed.</p><p>(00:30:28):</p><p>And so we were like,</p><p>(00:30:29):</p><p>we just booked these random tickets to go see Home Alone at this like drive in.</p><p>(00:30:33):</p><p>And it turned out the drive in was actually at the village.</p><p>(00:30:36):</p><p>And so I met like a bunch of people who became my neighbors.</p><p>(00:30:40):</p><p>But that’s when I got plugged.</p><p>(00:30:41):</p><p>So I found out about it because they play like a big trailer before they play the movie.</p><p>(00:30:44):</p><p>That’s like, this is our village.</p><p>(00:30:45):</p><p>And this is why we’re so interesting and unique and are making such a big impact.</p><p>(00:30:49):</p><p>And then and you also go on a tour just to see like</p><p>(00:30:53):</p><p>The neighborhood and then yeah then we watched a movie and it’s awesome and then</p><p>(00:30:57):</p><p>yeah and then I found out a bunch of people from my church actually like are super</p><p>(00:31:01):</p><p>plugged in out there so I yeah so I got plugged in too so it was just like all</p><p>(00:31:06):</p><p>providential so you you went from San Francisco to Austin just like why why Austin</p><p>(00:31:13):</p><p>just because it’s the closest Midwest yeah basically you want to be back in the</p><p>(00:31:19):</p><p>Midwest but you want to still be a cool liberal</p><p>(00:31:22):</p><p>They just don’t want to be cool.</p><p>(00:31:23):</p><p>Tech bro.</p><p>(00:31:24):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:31:25):</p><p>That was literally it.</p><p>(00:31:26):</p><p>That was the answer.</p><p>(00:31:27):</p><p>I nailed it.</p><p>(00:31:30):</p><p>Really what happened was my best friend in San Francisco she was like she hit a</p><p>(00:31:36):</p><p>wall one day with COVID she was like I’m done like I’m out of here and she’s from</p><p>(00:31:39):</p><p>Texas so she was like I’m buying a house because at the time she was working for a</p><p>(00:31:42):</p><p>company that had an office in Austin so she was like they’ll let me move I’m buying</p><p>(00:31:46):</p><p>a house I’m getting out I’m going back to Texas and I was like I like grabbed a</p><p>(00:31:49):</p><p>duffel bag and I was like take me with you for the love of God so again also very</p><p>(00:31:55):</p><p>providential I like just like kind of followed her like a sad puppy</p><p>(00:31:59):</p><p>Out of California.</p><p>(00:32:01):</p><p>You just were looking for any reason to get out of California.</p><p>(00:32:03):</p><p>Yeah, yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:32:05):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:32:06):</p><p>COVID was so tough in the Bay.</p><p>(00:32:08):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:32:09):</p><p>I remember that because I was supposed to,</p><p>(00:32:10):</p><p>I was,</p><p>(00:32:10):</p><p>I canceled my anniversary trip to Napa Valley to hang out,</p><p>(00:32:14):</p><p>in part to hang out with you.</p><p>(00:32:16):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:32:16):</p><p>March 2021.</p><p>(00:32:17):</p><p>Yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:32:20):</p><p>Because I was supposed to go hang out and then it was just like this steady stream</p><p>(00:32:22):</p><p>of cancellation emails.</p><p>(00:32:23):</p><p>Like your Alcatraz tour is canceled.</p><p>(00:32:25):</p><p>Your flight is canceled.</p><p>(00:32:27):</p><p>Everything’s canceled.</p><p>(00:32:28):</p><p>You’re sending me an email being like,</p><p>(00:32:29):</p><p>I’m not going to tell you not to come,</p><p>(00:32:31):</p><p>but you probably shouldn’t.</p><p>(00:32:33):</p><p>But like, don’t.</p><p>(00:32:34):</p><p>Don’t?</p><p>(00:32:34):</p><p>I don’t really want you in my house.</p><p>(00:32:37):</p><p>With all your Nebraska germs.</p><p>(00:32:41):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:32:42):</p><p>Was it?</p><p>(00:32:43):</p><p>So, all right.</p><p>(00:32:43):</p><p>So COVID, that was like the COVID though.</p><p>(00:32:46):</p><p>If it wasn’t for COVID, do you think you’d still be out there?</p><p>(00:32:48):</p><p>Or is it just like- I don’t know.</p><p>(00:32:50):</p><p>It’s impossible to say.</p><p>(00:32:51):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:32:53):</p><p>I’m not sure.</p><p>(00:32:53):</p><p>I mean, the company I work for now has HQ there, so it wouldn’t be crazy.</p><p>(00:32:58):</p><p>I mean,</p><p>(00:33:01):</p><p>other than the,</p><p>(00:33:02):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:33:03):</p><p>obviously the missional homeless people that aren’t actually homeless because I</p><p>(00:33:08):</p><p>have ill-informed questions people.</p><p>(00:33:10):</p><p>Other than that, I feel like your corporate life, I mean, is it that much different?</p><p>(00:33:15):</p><p>Like Austin versus San Francisco?</p><p>(00:33:16):</p><p>Because I just look at Austin, I think, oh, that’s just San Francisco with cowboy boots.</p><p>(00:33:21):</p><p>No, I think that’s incorrect.</p><p>(00:33:24):</p><p>But I mean, I work from home full time, so I don’t even go into an office, which is pretty nice.</p><p>(00:33:34):</p><p>But I do miss the luxury of an SF office.</p><p>(00:33:39):</p><p>Like</p><p>(00:33:40):</p><p>What like Jamba Juice smoothies and like breakfast in the office like my per diem</p><p>(00:33:46):</p><p>now is like $30 less per day when I’m in SF because I’m like expected to eat</p><p>(00:33:52):</p><p>breakfast and lunch in the office at least because it’s always there.</p><p>(00:33:55):</p><p>There’s plenty of coffee.</p><p>(00:33:56):</p><p>There’s nitro on tap.</p><p>(00:33:58):</p><p>There’s cold brew.</p><p>(00:33:59):</p><p>There’s there’s like beers and stuff.</p><p>(00:34:02):</p><p>Yeah, whatever, whatever.</p><p>(00:34:03):</p><p>There’s snacks out all the time.</p><p>(00:34:05):</p><p>And that’s like par for the course anywhere in San Francisco.</p><p>(00:34:08):</p><p>Yeah, I would say my office is just like another one of the very nice offices.</p><p>(00:34:11):</p><p>Yeah, not one of the exceptional ones.</p><p>(00:34:14):</p><p>But isn’t it like you get all that stuff like in lieu of like a 401k?</p><p>(00:34:18):</p><p>You’re like you could have all this.</p><p>(00:34:19):</p><p>No, I have a 401k.</p><p>(00:34:21):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:34:21):</p><p>All right.</p><p>(00:34:24):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:34:25):</p><p>Just like peanut M&Ms instead of a 401k.</p><p>(00:34:28):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:34:28):</p><p>You might.</p><p>(00:34:32):</p><p>So what all right so what is your what is your job now you’re making apps for the</p><p>(00:34:35):</p><p>PGA Tour like what do you do.</p><p>(00:34:37):</p><p>And now I am a technical success manager at a startup called Amplitude.</p><p>(00:34:43):</p><p>You’re customer obsessed.</p><p>(00:34:45):</p><p>According to LinkedIn you’re customer obsessed.</p><p>(00:34:47):</p><p>I am customer obsessed.</p><p>(00:34:50):</p><p>Customer obsessed.</p><p>(00:34:54):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(00:34:54):</p><p>so I work with a number of customers to help their like product and marketing</p><p>(00:35:00):</p><p>experiences,</p><p>(00:35:02):</p><p>just like their digital,</p><p>(00:35:03):</p><p>their overall like digital footprints.</p><p>(00:35:06):</p><p>Okay, you said a lot of buzzwords.</p><p>(00:35:07):</p><p>I don’t know what any of that means.</p><p>(00:35:09):</p><p>What is the overall digital footprints and customer success?</p><p>(00:35:12):</p><p>What does it actually do?</p><p>(00:35:14):</p><p>What are the actual machinations of my job?</p><p>(00:35:16):</p><p>I don’t have to tell you.</p><p>(00:35:18):</p><p>What are yours?</p><p>(00:35:18):</p><p>What do you even do?</p><p>(00:35:19):</p><p>You talk about digital footprints and customer success.</p><p>(00:35:22):</p><p>What do you do?</p><p>(00:35:22):</p><p>You blow air across building?</p><p>(00:35:24):</p><p>None of it means anything.</p><p>(00:35:27):</p><p>At least when we both used to work at an HVAC, calm down, it’s my podcast.</p><p>(00:35:31):</p><p>At least when we used to work at an HVAC company,</p><p>(00:35:33):</p><p>we’d be like,</p><p>(00:35:34):</p><p>we make cold air,</p><p>(00:35:35):</p><p>and now it’s like we’ve created a digital footprint.</p><p>(00:35:37):</p><p>I didn’t make it.</p><p>(00:35:39):</p><p>You could feel cold air, like I don’t even know what a digital footprint even is.</p><p>(00:35:44):</p><p>So when you open an app, like for anyone, really...</p><p>(00:35:48):</p><p>You open the app and you’re like doing some stuff and I can pull all of that data.</p><p>(00:35:52):</p><p>Like I have a product.</p><p>(00:35:53):</p><p>Amplitude is the product that like shows like that customer journey and customer behavior.</p><p>(00:35:57):</p><p>So then we can like optimize like speed to checkout or we can optimize just like your general.</p><p>(00:36:02):</p><p>Like if it’s buggy,</p><p>(00:36:02):</p><p>we can optimize the experience or we can start to work out of product to like nudge</p><p>(00:36:07):</p><p>people into the into the app or the web store or whatever it is and just like make</p><p>(00:36:12):</p><p>it more fun and more relevant.</p><p>(00:36:13):</p><p>So like</p><p>(00:36:14):</p><p>When you’re searching,</p><p>(00:36:15):</p><p>you’re not seeing the same bright,</p><p>(00:36:17):</p><p>shiny,</p><p>(00:36:17):</p><p>fun,</p><p>(00:36:18):</p><p>optimistic things that I’m seeing.</p><p>(00:36:19):</p><p>You’re seeing crotchety old dad s**t.</p><p>(00:36:22):</p><p>That’s what I’m seeing.</p><p>(00:36:24):</p><p>That’s what I like.</p><p>(00:36:25):</p><p>Exactly.</p><p>(00:36:26):</p><p>Your algorithm is tied into who you are.</p><p>(00:36:30):</p><p>So you’re part of the problem is what I’m hearing.</p><p>(00:36:32):</p><p>You’re one of the people that’s making it so we can’t ever get off of our phones.</p><p>(00:36:35):</p><p>You want to make sure that we’re all sucked into the ready player one.</p><p>(00:36:40):</p><p>One of the things I really enjoy is helping customers see that good churn is a solution.</p><p>(00:36:48):</p><p>You want someone to do what they need to do and then maybe not come back for a long</p><p>(00:36:52):</p><p>time because they feel satisfied and got it done.</p><p>(00:36:55):</p><p>And one of the symptoms of a bad product or bad marketing experience is someone</p><p>(00:37:00):</p><p>dragging through or slogging through or having to repeat visits in some instances.</p><p>(00:37:06):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:37:07):</p><p>So you like want me to get in,</p><p>(00:37:09):</p><p>give you my credit card information right away and then move on to something else.</p><p>(00:37:12):</p><p>That way I can come up with some new thing to spend my money on later than just do</p><p>(00:37:16):</p><p>that really effectively.</p><p>(00:37:18):</p><p>If you want, I don’t know, like not all the apps are like some apps are for calendars.</p><p>(00:37:22):</p><p>You’re not buying anything on the calendar app.</p><p>(00:37:25):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:37:27):</p><p>But you want to make sure that I’m staring my calendar app all day.</p><p>(00:37:30):</p><p>No, that’s what I mean.</p><p>(00:37:31):</p><p>You shouldn’t be.</p><p>(00:37:31):</p><p>It should be really smooth.</p><p>(00:37:33):</p><p>It should be integrated.</p><p>(00:37:34):</p><p>It should be seamless.</p><p>(00:37:35):</p><p>And you should be like, all done.</p><p>(00:37:36):</p><p>I love it.</p><p>(00:37:38):</p><p>Do you love your calendar app?</p><p>(00:37:40):</p><p>I do love my calendar app.</p><p>(00:37:42):</p><p>That was actually really like Calendly just,</p><p>(00:37:45):</p><p>not Calendly,</p><p>(00:37:46):</p><p>Clockwise just sold out to Salesforce.</p><p>(00:37:48):</p><p>And I was devastated.</p><p>(00:37:51):</p><p>Now I just have to rely on Google Calendar.</p><p>(00:37:54):</p><p>They’re coming up to speed nicely, but it’s going to be a while.</p><p>(00:37:58):</p><p>Oh, wow.</p><p>(00:37:59):</p><p>I’m sorry for your loss.</p><p>(00:38:01):</p><p>I don’t even know what calendar app I use.</p><p>(00:38:03):</p><p>I have this calendar.</p><p>(00:38:05):</p><p>This is awesome.</p><p>(00:38:06):</p><p>It’s like manual.</p><p>(00:38:08):</p><p>It’s hard to...</p><p>(00:38:09):</p><p>This is not going to translate well to the podcast.</p><p>(00:38:11):</p><p>What is that?</p><p>(00:38:12):</p><p>It’s something from this hipster store where I literally have this piece of paper</p><p>(00:38:15):</p><p>that I flip over to tell me what day it is.</p><p>(00:38:17):</p><p>That’s fine.</p><p>(00:38:18):</p><p>I like that.</p><p>(00:38:19):</p><p>That’s very tactile.</p><p>(00:38:21):</p><p>Oh, yeah.</p><p>(00:38:21):</p><p>I have all that tactile experience.</p><p>(00:38:23):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:38:24):</p><p>That’s why I think that you’re one of the people ruining my life.</p><p>(00:38:28):</p><p>With all your optimization and digital footprints.</p><p>(00:38:33):</p><p>Yeah, sure.</p><p>(00:38:37):</p><p>Who else is ruining your life?</p><p>(00:38:38):</p><p>Who else is ruining your life?</p><p>(00:38:39):</p><p>Oh, it’s a long list.</p><p>(00:38:40):</p><p>That’s why I say this podcast.</p><p>(00:38:41):</p><p>I just want to confront all these people.</p><p>(00:38:45):</p><p>Are you running any marathons or doing stand-up comedy right now?</p><p>(00:38:49):</p><p>I have a competition in August.</p><p>(00:38:53):</p><p>A marathon or a stand-up comedy competition?</p><p>(00:38:55):</p><p>A stand-up.</p><p>(00:38:56):</p><p>I need a type 5.</p><p>(00:38:57):</p><p>Maybe type four.</p><p>(00:38:58):</p><p>I’m like, yeah, I need to get on it.</p><p>(00:39:01):</p><p>I need to be doing some open mics.</p><p>(00:39:04):</p><p>Are you still actively trying to get good at stand up?</p><p>(00:39:08):</p><p>No,</p><p>(00:39:08):</p><p>I mean,</p><p>(00:39:09):</p><p>I mean,</p><p>(00:39:09):</p><p>like always kind of,</p><p>(00:39:10):</p><p>but like not actively,</p><p>(00:39:11):</p><p>like not in my actual spare time.</p><p>(00:39:14):</p><p>You’re not the guy that’s sorry, not the guy.</p><p>(00:39:17):</p><p>You’re not a guy.</p><p>(00:39:18):</p><p>You’re not the person that’s trying to actively.</p><p>(00:39:21):</p><p>Most people I would like not correct myself after saying that.</p><p>(00:39:23):</p><p>But with you, I know it’s important to you.</p><p>(00:39:26):</p><p>It’s important to everyone.</p><p>(00:39:28):</p><p>It’s less important to some people.</p><p>(00:39:31):</p><p>You’re on the,</p><p>(00:39:33):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(00:39:34):</p><p>as far as the customer digital footprint experience of using the word guy</p><p>(00:39:38):</p><p>incorrectly,</p><p>(00:39:39):</p><p>I got to correct that real quick.</p><p>(00:39:41):</p><p>Otherwise, you’ll be canceled.</p><p>(00:39:44):</p><p>Yeah, it’ll cancel and just like derail you.</p><p>(00:39:46):</p><p>Sorry.</p><p>(00:39:47):</p><p>Good luck moving.</p><p>(00:39:48):</p><p>My question was, so you’re not the person that’s like trying to do like</p><p>(00:39:54):</p><p>I don’t know if you’ve seen the,</p><p>(00:39:55):</p><p>have you seen the,</p><p>(00:39:55):</p><p>he’s a terrible pocket,</p><p>(00:39:57):</p><p>what’s the guy,</p><p>(00:39:58):</p><p>Pete Holmes show,</p><p>(00:39:59):</p><p>stand-up,</p><p>(00:40:00):</p><p>the stand-up show where he’s just like.</p><p>(00:40:02):</p><p>Crashing.</p><p>(00:40:03):</p><p>Yeah, crashing.</p><p>(00:40:05):</p><p>Where like every single night he’s going trying to get like open mic nights and</p><p>(00:40:07):</p><p>handing out flyers because this is like his life’s passion and he wants to get</p><p>(00:40:10):</p><p>really,</p><p>(00:40:10):</p><p>really awesome at it.</p><p>(00:40:11):</p><p>I mean, it like is, I would love to be good at it.</p><p>(00:40:14):</p><p>It’s so much fun,</p><p>(00:40:15):</p><p>but I like,</p><p>(00:40:17):</p><p>I’m working,</p><p>(00:40:17):</p><p>I have like a real job,</p><p>(00:40:19):</p><p>unfortunately,</p><p>(00:40:19):</p><p>at this moment,</p><p>(00:40:20):</p><p>so.</p><p>(00:40:21):</p><p>Would you ever quit your real job to do the fun thing?</p><p>(00:40:24):</p><p>Yeah, I would.</p><p>(00:40:25):</p><p>I totally would.</p><p>(00:40:28):</p><p>I don’t know when the benchmark...</p><p>(00:40:30):</p><p>I don’t know what I’d have to...</p><p>(00:40:31):</p><p>I’d have to be feeling pretty confident, but I totally would.</p><p>(00:40:35):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:40:36):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:40:39):</p><p>I can relate to that.</p><p>(00:40:39):</p><p>I’m just looking for a reason to quit my job every single day.</p><p>(00:40:44):</p><p>I’m not looking for a reason to quit, but</p><p>(00:40:46):</p><p>But like in a hypothetical world where I was just like,</p><p>(00:40:49):</p><p>I had plenty of time to go to open mics every night at like,</p><p>(00:40:52):</p><p>and do a 2am spot,</p><p>(00:40:53):</p><p>even just like,</p><p>(00:40:54):</p><p>it’s not even about time.</p><p>(00:40:55):</p><p>It’s just about like, that makes me feel so tired.</p><p>(00:40:58):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:41:00):</p><p>I feel like standup is definitely a young person’s game.</p><p>(00:41:03):</p><p>I wouldn’t say a young man’s game, but I know that I know better than to say that.</p><p>(00:41:07):</p><p>A young person’s game.</p><p>(00:41:09):</p><p>Good for you.</p><p>(00:41:09):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:41:09):</p><p>and like,</p><p>(00:41:10):</p><p>I actually go to it,</p><p>(00:41:11):</p><p>like there used to be a standup club like five minutes from my house.</p><p>(00:41:13):</p><p>And so I go to that</p><p>(00:41:15):</p><p>I don’t know whenever somebody was good there but it’s like now it’s I would see</p><p>(00:41:19):</p><p>stand-ups that I like I knew who they were from like weird 90s movies and it just</p><p>(00:41:23):</p><p>looks rough like yeah they’re still funny but it’s like these 60 year old guys who</p><p>(00:41:28):</p><p>are like huge in 93 and it’s just like you’re doing a set that starts at 9 30 p.m</p><p>(00:41:33):</p><p>it’s your third set of the day and you’re in Omaha like yeah the only reason why</p><p>(00:41:38):</p><p>people come to</p><p>(00:41:39):</p><p>We have an excellent stand-up comedy club in Omaha.</p><p>(00:41:43):</p><p>Like one that like literally they always talk about how awesome it is.</p><p>(00:41:46):</p><p>But it’s because they,</p><p>(00:41:48):</p><p>it’s one of those where people go to work on new material before doing it like,</p><p>(00:41:51):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(00:41:52):</p><p>selling out an arena or something.</p><p>(00:41:53):</p><p>So like Nate Bargatze in his latest special did like three nights at our tiny</p><p>(00:41:57):</p><p>little 40-man stand-up comedy club.</p><p>(00:42:00):</p><p>So we could test out the material for now is, what is it?</p><p>(00:42:02):</p><p>His big dumb eyes tour.</p><p>(00:42:04):</p><p>So like we get like really good acts, but it’s definitely one of those things where I see these</p><p>(00:42:08):</p><p>I see these people and I’m like, I can’t stay up this late past nine on a given night.</p><p>(00:42:14):</p><p>I’m 36.</p><p>(00:42:15):</p><p>I feel old, but these guys, when they were 36, they were still in SNL.</p><p>(00:42:20):</p><p>It’s crazy.</p><p>(00:42:21):</p><p>Yeah, crazy how old you are.</p><p>(00:42:23):</p><p>Yeah, that was the point of that.</p><p>(00:42:24):</p><p>Did you ever end up getting that K-Money tattoo that you were going to do that your</p><p>(00:42:28):</p><p>friends talked about?</p><p>(00:42:29):</p><p>No, I did not.</p><p>(00:42:29):</p><p>I did not.</p><p>(00:42:32):</p><p>What was it going to be?</p><p>(00:42:34):</p><p>I don’t even remember anymore.</p><p>(00:42:35):</p><p>Yeah, I’m really glad I didn’t.</p><p>(00:42:37):</p><p>I feel like getting a tattoo of your own nickname is challenging.</p><p>(00:42:42):</p><p>In what way?</p><p>(00:42:44):</p><p>What’s the challenging part of it?</p><p>(00:42:46):</p><p>Just that you have to live with that for your whole life.</p><p>(00:42:49):</p><p>You have to live with knowing you were that much of a douche that you got your own</p><p>(00:42:52):</p><p>name tatted on you.</p><p>(00:42:53):</p><p>I may have done that.</p><p>(00:42:58):</p><p>You have a tattoo that says Christopher?</p><p>(00:43:00):</p><p>No, so I got a tattoo of my name in Greek.</p><p>(00:43:04):</p><p>Like, is the word in Greek?</p><p>(00:43:06):</p><p>Just like in case you ever get lost in, like, Mykonos?</p><p>(00:43:09):</p><p>Yeah, I can’t speak Greek.</p><p>(00:43:10):</p><p>It can identify your body.</p><p>(00:43:11):</p><p>Yeah, I don’t even speak Greek, so it can say anything, really.</p><p>(00:43:14):</p><p>Yeah, yeah, it can say that’s hot.</p><p>(00:43:17):</p><p>Yeah, it’s like one of those, you know, it’s like... Why did you do that?</p><p>(00:43:22):</p><p>Walk me through that.</p><p>(00:43:25):</p><p>Well, I think it was one of those things where, like,</p><p>(00:43:29):</p><p>Just the look of like Greek words was like really cool with like within the little</p><p>(00:43:33):</p><p>group of circle of people that I was in for a while.</p><p>(00:43:35):</p><p>Like that was like the Christian tattoo.</p><p>(00:43:37):</p><p>And I’m talking about like when I say my group of people,</p><p>(00:43:40):</p><p>this is where like the Protestant and the Catholic like path is probably very</p><p>(00:43:44):</p><p>divergent.</p><p>(00:43:45):</p><p>Like cool Christian tattoos when I was a kid or like an adolescent,</p><p>(00:43:50):</p><p>we’re all like you get your own name in Greek.</p><p>(00:43:53):</p><p>Well, just anything in Greek, anything in Hebrew.</p><p>(00:43:55):</p><p>Like, you could have gotten, like, John 3.16, but in Greek, and you chose to get your own name.</p><p>(00:44:00):</p><p>Yeah, I could have.</p><p>(00:44:00):</p><p>Well, I mean, it’s all the same to me.</p><p>(00:44:03):</p><p>Cool, cool, cool.</p><p>(00:44:04):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:44:05):</p><p>Yeah, uh-huh.</p><p>(00:44:07):</p><p>Yeah, got it.</p><p>(00:44:07):</p><p>So, yeah, so now I can live with that for the rest of my life.</p><p>(00:44:10):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:44:10):</p><p>I actually have,</p><p>(00:44:11):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:44:11):</p><p>this whole bigger,</p><p>(00:44:12):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:44:12):</p><p>metaphor of,</p><p>(00:44:13):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:44:13):</p><p>so my name is Christopher.</p><p>(00:44:15):</p><p>Which is like Greek for his two Greek words,</p><p>(00:44:17):</p><p>Christus and Pharos,</p><p>(00:44:19):</p><p>which means bearer or bringer of Christ,</p><p>(00:44:21):</p><p>depending on which Google definition you pick.</p><p>(00:44:24):</p><p>And it’s like I had this whole like thought about like,</p><p>(00:44:28):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(00:44:28):</p><p>a shield bearer and a lion and all this stuff.</p><p>(00:44:32):</p><p>And I’m like, well, none of it like it’s like would make any sense without like my name.</p><p>(00:44:36):</p><p>So I just started with the name and then I went, I don’t need all the rest of that stuff.</p><p>(00:44:40):</p><p>And now I’ll probably get covered up by something else at some point.</p><p>(00:44:42):</p><p>Hmm.</p><p>(00:44:43):</p><p>Hmm.</p><p>(00:44:43):</p><p>Hmm.</p><p>(00:44:45):</p><p>When did you get that tattoo?</p><p>(00:44:47):</p><p>Not that long ago.</p><p>(00:44:48):</p><p>I think like five years ago.</p><p>(00:44:49):</p><p>So you were 31.</p><p>(00:44:51):</p><p>This is like actually not.</p><p>(00:44:52):</p><p>Yeah, I was in my 30s.</p><p>(00:44:53):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:44:53):</p><p>Uh-huh.</p><p>(00:44:54):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:44:54):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:44:54):</p><p>because you presented it like,</p><p>(00:44:56):</p><p>oh,</p><p>(00:44:56):</p><p>when I was a kid,</p><p>(00:44:57):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(00:44:58):</p><p>when I was like 18,</p><p>(00:44:59):</p><p>like going.</p><p>(00:45:00):</p><p>Well, this is like my second year being a dad.</p><p>(00:45:01):</p><p>I mean, I’m a whole different person now.</p><p>(00:45:05):</p><p>You also have this ability where like I could tell that exact same story to</p><p>(00:45:08):</p><p>somebody and not feel really judged and terrible about my choices.</p><p>(00:45:11):</p><p>But when I talk to you,</p><p>(00:45:13):</p><p>It’s just I always start a story and go like,</p><p>(00:45:15):</p><p>oh man,</p><p>(00:45:16):</p><p>I didn’t think this was dumb until I saw your reaction.</p><p>(00:45:22):</p><p>And it makes me wonder like, what are the truth is?</p><p>(00:45:24):</p><p>Like, am I really as terrible as I feel after I speak to you or not?</p><p>(00:45:28):</p><p>It’s hard to say.</p><p>(00:45:32):</p><p>No one knows.</p><p>(00:45:32):</p><p>You know what?</p><p>(00:45:32):</p><p>Before we...</p><p>(00:45:35):</p><p>Don’t talk about anything else.</p><p>(00:45:37):</p><p>I really do think we need to talk about how we got to know each other in our</p><p>(00:45:40):</p><p>reality game show environment that we were playing.</p><p>(00:45:42):</p><p>It was like living the real world.</p><p>(00:45:44):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:45:45):</p><p>So, okay.</p><p>(00:45:45):</p><p>So we were all uglier.</p><p>(00:45:46):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:45:47):</p><p>Do you want to describe what building efficiency sales training is or should I?</p><p>(00:45:51):</p><p>I think I want to hear your definition.</p><p>(00:45:54):</p><p>It’s called building efficiency sales training.</p><p>(00:45:56):</p><p>I don’t know if it still exists.</p><p>(00:45:57):</p><p>I’m sure there’s some version of it,</p><p>(00:45:58):</p><p>but it was specifically called building efficiency division anymore.</p><p>(00:46:01):</p><p>So they keep on changing what the D and the E stand for.</p><p>(00:46:04):</p><p>I still think that’s the best,</p><p>(00:46:06):</p><p>but I think they re-engineered what the acronym stands for every single</p><p>(00:46:10):</p><p>reorganization.</p><p>(00:46:11):</p><p>That makes sense.</p><p>(00:46:12):</p><p>I mean, that’s fine.</p><p>(00:46:13):</p><p>But yeah,</p><p>(00:46:14):</p><p>so they specifically used best so they can call this group of new grads the best</p><p>(00:46:19):</p><p>class that you’re recruited to this elite circle of Avengers.</p><p>(00:46:25):</p><p>It’s like meant to.</p><p>(00:46:28):</p><p>A new hire, corporate American new hires.</p><p>(00:46:30):</p><p>Corporate American new hires.</p><p>(00:46:31):</p><p>Everyone is like 22.</p><p>(00:46:34):</p><p>And you’re all,</p><p>(00:46:35):</p><p>yeah,</p><p>(00:46:35):</p><p>you’re all like plucked from your schools across the country and like assembled,</p><p>(00:46:39):</p><p>like I said,</p><p>(00:46:40):</p><p>into this all-star team.</p><p>(00:46:42):</p><p>And you come to fun and you’re like enamored with like this intercontinental travel</p><p>(00:46:47):</p><p>that you’re going to have.</p><p>(00:46:48):</p><p>And it turns out that’s just like Milwaukee and Oklahoma.</p><p>(00:46:51):</p><p>And Norman, Oklahoma.</p><p>(00:46:53):</p><p>And San Antonio, but not even the hardest thing.</p><p>(00:46:55):</p><p>Not even like, no, like where the factories are outside of San Antonio.</p><p>(00:46:59):</p><p>It’s the place where they can’t get any unions.</p><p>(00:47:01):</p><p>Like it’s literally...</p><p>(00:47:03):</p><p>They pick the area of San Antonio where union workers aren’t allowed to go.</p><p>(00:47:05):</p><p>It’s like forever outside of San Antonio.</p><p>(00:47:08):</p><p>So yeah.</p><p>(00:47:09):</p><p>And then sometimes if you’re lucky, you get to go to York, PA.</p><p>(00:47:12):</p><p>So yeah.</p><p>(00:47:13):</p><p>But it’s the first time.</p><p>(00:47:15):</p><p>I don’t know what was going on with our group,</p><p>(00:47:18):</p><p>but no one had any serious relationships coming out of college.</p><p>(00:47:22):</p><p>So everyone was single.</p><p>(00:47:23):</p><p>It was the first time we had an expense account.</p><p>(00:47:25):</p><p>We were all staying in a hotel.</p><p>(00:47:27):</p><p>So it was like suspended reality.</p><p>(00:47:31):</p><p>And we weren’t home with our regular friends for like two weeks at a time.</p><p>(00:47:34):</p><p>So we were like, had to like, like fuse into each other, like survive.</p><p>(00:47:40):</p><p>And then there was also a ranking system.</p><p>(00:47:43):</p><p>It was like, it was crazy.</p><p>(00:47:44):</p><p>It was crazy.</p><p>(00:47:47):</p><p>The closest thing I could think of is a reality game show.</p><p>(00:47:49):</p><p>And I felt that while I was in it too.</p><p>(00:47:51):</p><p>It felt to me like the real world.</p><p>(00:47:53):</p><p>Especially like the real world because there was no winning.</p><p>(00:47:56):</p><p>It was just, we were just on parade.</p><p>(00:47:58):</p><p>It was like, who’s like, is it anyway?</p><p>(00:48:00):</p><p>Because there was points though, but they didn’t matter.</p><p>(00:48:02):</p><p>Yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:48:03):</p><p>But yeah, you couldn’t win.</p><p>(00:48:05):</p><p>You couldn’t win.</p><p>(00:48:06):</p><p>And it was like, okay, so yeah, just to, so every two weeks...</p><p>(00:48:11):</p><p>So we had about, what, 30 of us or so.</p><p>(00:48:13):</p><p>And I think most of us were from different cities.</p><p>(00:48:15):</p><p>There’s a few people that were, like, we had, like, Boston had, like, four people.</p><p>(00:48:18):</p><p>But most of us were from different cities.</p><p>(00:48:21):</p><p>And then we had one guy, Wassam, from Dubai, who was in our group for a little while.</p><p>(00:48:29):</p><p>And then he got transferred to a different group.</p><p>(00:48:31):</p><p>And they realized he doesn’t actually sell any of the things that we’re training him.</p><p>(00:48:34):</p><p>And the idea was that we would have a six-month training program,</p><p>(00:48:38):</p><p>but it was like two weeks on,</p><p>(00:48:39):</p><p>two weeks off.</p><p>(00:48:39):</p><p>So the first two weeks would be all these 20-somethings living in a hotel,</p><p>(00:48:44):</p><p>separate hotel rooms,</p><p>(00:48:45):</p><p>but in the same hotel for two weeks.</p><p>(00:48:47):</p><p>Then we’d go home, do a bunch of stupid homework, or maybe our real jobs.</p><p>(00:48:51):</p><p>Our real jobs.</p><p>(00:48:53):</p><p>I didn’t.</p><p>(00:48:53):</p><p>My boss was like, we’ll talk about your real job once your training’s over.</p><p>(00:48:57):</p><p>And then we just actually never really got to that part.</p><p>(00:48:59):</p><p>And I’m still there 12 years later, so I haven’t figured out what my job is.</p><p>(00:49:03):</p><p>So we go like two weeks in Milwaukee, and then we would go home to wherever home was.</p><p>(00:49:07):</p><p>And then we come back another two weeks in Milwaukee.</p><p>(00:49:09):</p><p>We did that for six straight weeks.</p><p>(00:49:11):</p><p>Was it that?</p><p>(00:49:12):</p><p>Six months.</p><p>(00:49:13):</p><p>Six months.</p><p>(00:49:14):</p><p>And it was at least,</p><p>(00:49:16):</p><p>I think it was eight weeks altogether living at a hotel room,</p><p>(00:49:20):</p><p>something like that.</p><p>(00:49:21):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:49:21):</p><p>But yeah, six months long.</p><p>(00:49:22):</p><p>But it was my first experience.</p><p>(00:49:25):</p><p>You were in sororities.</p><p>(00:49:26):</p><p>And so I always felt like it was my college experience because I wasn’t in a fraternity.</p><p>(00:49:31):</p><p>I was in the engineering dorms for all the scholarship engineering nerds.</p><p>(00:49:35):</p><p>And so it was like, yeah, it was exactly what you would think.</p><p>(00:49:39):</p><p>It was all these people like I had the lowest ACT score on my floor.</p><p>(00:49:43):</p><p>Why were you guys even talking about your ACT scores?</p><p>(00:49:46):</p><p>I’m just saying,</p><p>(00:49:47):</p><p>as somebody who still had a good enough ACT score to get on a full ride engineering</p><p>(00:49:51):</p><p>scholarship,</p><p>(00:49:52):</p><p>I was the dumbest one.</p><p>(00:49:53):</p><p>So you can imagine what our social scene was like.</p><p>(00:49:57):</p><p>But then we go to,</p><p>(00:49:58):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(00:49:58):</p><p>so that was my five years of college because I don’t know if you knew this about</p><p>(00:50:01):</p><p>me,</p><p>(00:50:02):</p><p>but I have a master’s degree.</p><p>(00:50:03):</p><p>Yeah, I know, I know.</p><p>(00:50:03):</p><p>Five years of college.</p><p>(00:50:05):</p><p>And then we had this weird experience where,</p><p>(00:50:08):</p><p>like you said,</p><p>(00:50:08):</p><p>all of a sudden we have all unlimited funds and limited money because we can use</p><p>(00:50:12):</p><p>our work credit card to buy all of our food.</p><p>(00:50:14):</p><p>And it just turns into this weird free-for-all thing where we sit in an eight-hour</p><p>(00:50:18):</p><p>training session on air-cooled chiller.</p><p>(00:50:20):</p><p>Not even air-cooled chiller.</p><p>(00:50:23):</p><p>It was like the individual parts of air-cooled chiller.</p><p>(00:50:25):</p><p>It’s like, what is this tube?</p><p>(00:50:27):</p><p>Just like the concept.</p><p>(00:50:28):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:50:29):</p><p>They have these cool tubes.</p><p>(00:50:31):</p><p>Let’s talk about this very specific tube that’s inside it for eight hours.</p><p>(00:50:35):</p><p>And then we’d have weird homework on that.</p><p>(00:50:37):</p><p>And then we would get a ranking system 1 through 33 at the end of every week to</p><p>(00:50:40):</p><p>tell us how awesome it was.</p><p>(00:50:43):</p><p>And then the rest of the time was just hours.</p><p>(00:50:48):</p><p>And man, it was insane.</p><p>(00:50:51):</p><p>So the guy who was leading the course was a creep.</p><p>(00:50:54):</p><p>And no one could really articulate what was so creepy about him until a judge</p><p>(00:50:58):</p><p>finally did and sent him to jail.</p><p>(00:51:01):</p><p>He got sent to jail.</p><p>(00:51:04):</p><p>He didn’t get sent to jail.</p><p>(00:51:05):</p><p>I thought he did.</p><p>(00:51:05):</p><p>He got convicted.</p><p>(00:51:07):</p><p>I don’t know if there was jail time involved.</p><p>(00:51:11):</p><p>But yeah, there is a lawsuit out there for embezzling money.</p><p>(00:51:18):</p><p>I think he’s actually one of the few people that subscribes to this podcast.</p><p>(00:51:21):</p><p>I probably hope so.</p><p>(00:51:23):</p><p>Too much about it.</p><p>(00:51:24):</p><p>But it wasn’t.</p><p>(00:51:24):</p><p>Yeah, it wasn’t.</p><p>(00:51:26):</p><p>He was definitely a game show host type of personality, not a engineering professor.</p><p>(00:51:32):</p><p>Like a game show host for like, like, I don’t know what, what child in my bed or something.</p><p>(00:51:41):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:51:41):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:51:42):</p><p>Love.</p><p>(00:51:42):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:51:51):</p><p>Where do you go from there?</p><p>(00:51:52):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:51:53):</p><p>I don’t know where you go from there.</p><p>(00:51:54):</p><p>I mean, I don’t, I don’t, all the directions I can think of are directions I don’t want to go.</p><p>(00:51:58):</p><p>I remember we had a,</p><p>(00:52:01):</p><p>but like this,</p><p>(00:52:02):</p><p>it was such a weird,</p><p>(00:52:03):</p><p>like odd couple of like these 30 people because it was,</p><p>(00:52:07):</p><p>a lot of them was exactly what you’d expect.</p><p>(00:52:09):</p><p>Like super, like people that want to go into sales, right?</p><p>(00:52:13):</p><p>Like, yeah, but also like everyone was an engineer, I think.</p><p>(00:52:18):</p><p>Everyone was an engineer, so they’re all pretty smart.</p><p>(00:52:21):</p><p>Some have better social skills than others.</p><p>(00:52:23):</p><p>Some were very smart.</p><p>(00:52:24):</p><p>Some were very smart.</p><p>(00:52:27):</p><p>Some people had better social skills than others.</p><p>(00:52:29):</p><p>Chloe is a lawyer now.</p><p>(00:52:30):</p><p>There were some real smart folks in that class.</p><p>(00:52:33):</p><p>Chloe is one of the... She’s a lawyer for the ACLU.</p><p>(00:52:37):</p><p>She’s crushing.</p><p>(00:52:39):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:52:40):</p><p>And then but then there’s like then there’s the other parts of the guys that maybe</p><p>(00:52:43):</p><p>aren’t actually that smart,</p><p>(00:52:44):</p><p>but just huge douchebags.</p><p>(00:52:47):</p><p>And there’s definitely a lot of that going on.</p><p>(00:52:49):</p><p>And those are the people that like.</p><p>(00:52:51):</p><p>And also,</p><p>(00:52:51):</p><p>I want to say,</p><p>(00:52:52):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:52:52):</p><p>we’re talking about it like we were given like hundreds of thousands of dollars.</p><p>(00:52:56):</p><p>We had like a per diem that was like maybe a few hundred.</p><p>(00:52:59):</p><p>But we were all just so young.</p><p>(00:53:00):</p><p>We were like, this is life changing.</p><p>(00:53:02):</p><p>Yes.</p><p>(00:53:03):</p><p>Yes.</p><p>(00:53:05):</p><p>We’re talking about it like it’s an NFL signing bonus, but it was really just like, oh my God.</p><p>(00:53:12):</p><p>We just had beer money.</p><p>(00:53:13):</p><p>That was all it was.</p><p>(00:53:16):</p><p>We had a hotel that was comped and we could eat food and then we had enough for beer after.</p><p>(00:53:21):</p><p>But it was still insane.</p><p>(00:53:23):</p><p>I remember one of our friends from Austin...</p><p>(00:53:26):</p><p>from the Austin branch he was the one he’s the only one in like a very serious</p><p>(00:53:30):</p><p>relationship I feel yeah he got married during that time yeah he was engaged when</p><p>(00:53:33):</p><p>he started it and then so he got married but I remember his goal every single trip</p><p>(00:53:37):</p><p>was to say he wanted to spend zero of his own dollars yes yes which like fits his</p><p>(00:53:41):</p><p>personality to be honest and he did like he never bought it like I’ve always been</p><p>(00:53:46):</p><p>like a souvenir shopper not him not that there’s like a lot of souvenirs in Norman,</p><p>(00:53:49):</p><p>Oklahoma that I wanted but</p><p>(00:53:51):</p><p>And it was just like, he literally would just try to limit all of his spending to just meals.</p><p>(00:53:56):</p><p>Exactly.</p><p>(00:53:57):</p><p>And that was it.</p><p>(00:53:57):</p><p>And just getting covered, yes.</p><p>(00:53:59):</p><p>Totally.</p><p>(00:54:00):</p><p>And he probably still had a great time.</p><p>(00:54:02):</p><p>I think at as good of a time as anyone else did.</p><p>(00:54:04):</p><p>Yeah, totally.</p><p>(00:54:08):</p><p>My,</p><p>(00:54:09):</p><p>well,</p><p>(00:54:10):</p><p>when you,</p><p>(00:54:11):</p><p>it’s funny,</p><p>(00:54:12):</p><p>because like,</p><p>(00:54:12):</p><p>you still like,</p><p>(00:54:13):</p><p>I still hear stories about things that happened,</p><p>(00:54:15):</p><p>like during that time that I didn’t know,</p><p>(00:54:17):</p><p>like closed door kind of stuff afterwards,</p><p>(00:54:19):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:54:20):</p><p>Like you kind of knew certain like like this is the real world stuff right like the</p><p>(00:54:25):</p><p>new certain people like hooked up and you heard certain stories and like this guy</p><p>(00:54:29):</p><p>showed up late to class the next day but when he came back he had a coffee in hand</p><p>(00:54:34):</p><p>for one of the girls that sat by him who he never sat by before like there’s a lot</p><p>(00:54:40):</p><p>of that kind of stuff but like I remember I remember our mutual friend was telling</p><p>(00:54:45):</p><p>me something about like</p><p>(00:54:47):</p><p>It was his birthday and one of the people went up to him from our group and was</p><p>(00:54:51):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:54:51):</p><p>hey,</p><p>(00:54:53):</p><p>what do you want for your birthday?</p><p>(00:54:53):</p><p>He goes, I don’t know, maybe a b*****b?</p><p>(00:54:55):</p><p>And she’s like, oh, okay.</p><p>(00:54:56):</p><p>It’s up by my roommate.</p><p>(00:54:57):</p><p>Stories like that, you hear that?</p><p>(00:54:59):</p><p>Gross.</p><p>(00:55:01):</p><p>Gross.</p><p>(00:55:02):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:55:06):</p><p>Gross.</p><p>(00:55:08):</p><p>Yeah, it was a weird time.</p><p>(00:55:09):</p><p>That’s what happens.</p><p>(00:55:09):</p><p>You put too many young 20-something people in a hotel room.</p><p>(00:55:14):</p><p>Yeah, it was</p><p>(00:55:15):</p><p>Yeah, there was no adult supervision.</p><p>(00:55:17):</p><p>The only adult there was our game show host friend who probably went to jail.</p><p>(00:55:22):</p><p>The other thing that I remember from that,</p><p>(00:55:23):</p><p>I’m just going through my notes,</p><p>(00:55:24):</p><p>is you started a fantasy football league without me during that time.</p><p>(00:55:28):</p><p>Without you?</p><p>(00:55:30):</p><p>Do you seriously not remember that?</p><p>(00:55:31):</p><p>I made a sneak out of that for years.</p><p>(00:55:33):</p><p>Here it is only 13 years later and it’s still like, I’m still bringing it up.</p><p>(00:55:38):</p><p>Yeah, no, clearly it’s affected you more than me.</p><p>(00:55:40):</p><p>I...</p><p>(00:55:45):</p><p>I found out about it after the fact and and then I made sure I brought it up every</p><p>(00:55:54):</p><p>single trip from then on out yeah no I don’t remember that at all but I’m very I</p><p>(00:55:59):</p><p>apologize I was so young yeah you you’ve learned a lot about how to treat people</p><p>(00:56:04):</p><p>since then exactly I did I also saw on your LinkedIn page that you still have that</p><p>(00:56:10):</p><p>you are bragging about being ranked number three do I have that on there</p><p>(00:56:14):</p><p>It’s still out there.</p><p>(00:56:15):</p><p>You’re ranked number three.</p><p>(00:56:16):</p><p>Remember who number two was?</p><p>(00:56:18):</p><p>You were number two.</p><p>(00:56:19):</p><p>Yours truly.</p><p>(00:56:20):</p><p>And number one doesn’t count.</p><p>(00:56:23):</p><p>He has a very big heart.</p><p>(00:56:26):</p><p>Probably also in jail.</p><p>(00:56:30):</p><p>Almost definitely is in jail.</p><p>(00:56:32):</p><p>Wow, that’s only hope for all of our sakes.</p><p>(00:56:36):</p><p>Okay, Kylie, what else?</p><p>(00:56:38):</p><p>Anything else we should talk about?</p><p>(00:56:39):</p><p>Who’s your favorite sports team?</p><p>(00:56:41):</p><p>This is another fascinating thing about it.</p><p>(00:56:42):</p><p>I can never figure out what teams you root for.</p><p>(00:56:44):</p><p>Yeah, right now I’m really into Wemby and the Spurs, of course.</p><p>(00:56:48):</p><p>I think Spurs are going to take it in five.</p><p>(00:56:51):</p><p>Take what?</p><p>(00:56:51):</p><p>The championship?</p><p>(00:56:52):</p><p>The finals.</p><p>(00:56:53):</p><p>The finals.</p><p>(00:56:53):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:56:54):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:56:54):</p><p>When being the Spurs?</p><p>(00:56:55):</p><p>Have you been, was this a new, like the NBA, is that a new?</p><p>(00:56:59):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:57:00):</p><p>Just because Central Texas is going so crazy for the Spurs and the Spurs are just</p><p>(00:57:03):</p><p>so unproblematic and good.</p><p>(00:57:05):</p><p>And like the people of San Antonio and Central Texas are like just my favorites.</p><p>(00:57:10):</p><p>So yeah, I’m all in.</p><p>(00:57:11):</p><p>I’m all in right now.</p><p>(00:57:14):</p><p>When the season comes back around, I’ll be like fully on board for the Chiefs again.</p><p>(00:57:18):</p><p>I mean, I’m never not on board for the Chiefs.</p><p>(00:57:20):</p><p>Because your Chiefs, apparently Spurs now, that’s a new app.</p><p>(00:57:24):</p><p>Detroit Tigers, right?</p><p>(00:57:25):</p><p>Aren’t you a Tigers baseball fan?</p><p>(00:57:27):</p><p>Yeah, but I’m also a big Royals fan.</p><p>(00:57:29):</p><p>But they’re in different leagues, so that’s okay.</p><p>(00:57:31):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:57:32):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:57:33):</p><p>And then obviously KU.</p><p>(00:57:35):</p><p>Kansas always.</p><p>(00:57:36):</p><p>Are they doing that stuff currently?</p><p>(00:57:39):</p><p>Yeah, they’re in the playoffs for baseball.</p><p>(00:57:42):</p><p>They could be coming to Omaha.</p><p>(00:57:43):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:57:45):</p><p>Nebraska just lost last night so I was at a bar and watched But doesn’t everyone</p><p>(00:57:50):</p><p>have to come through Omaha that’s like the only thing you guys have is the College</p><p>(00:57:53):</p><p>World Series Yeah that’s no we have Warren Buffett Oh you have a walking bridge too</p><p>(00:57:58):</p><p>and a zoo Yeah yeah and a zoo and a bridge But no Warren Buffett for the moment</p><p>(00:58:04):</p><p>being I mean he’s already stepped down so now he’s really just a mascot he’s not</p><p>(00:58:09):</p><p>even running Berkshire Hathaway anymore but you know</p><p>(00:58:12):</p><p>You know He’s still ours He still shows up on all the Forbes lists Yeah But like</p><p>(00:58:18):</p><p>you went to Kansas when it was the historically worst football team ever in the</p><p>(00:58:22):</p><p>history of ever,</p><p>(00:58:23):</p><p>right?</p><p>(00:58:25):</p><p>Um I feel like yes I think you were at KU when they were like 0-12 for like 3 years</p><p>(00:58:32):</p><p>in a row or something crazy Yeah Because it was after Mangino left I don’t think we</p><p>(00:58:36):</p><p>lost right away when Mangino left Um</p><p>(00:58:43):</p><p>But then, yeah, we were certainly not on an uphill trajectory.</p><p>(00:58:47):</p><p>Were people still, like, showing up?</p><p>(00:58:48):</p><p>Did you go to KU football games or just all basketball all the time?</p><p>(00:58:51):</p><p>No, we went to football games.</p><p>(00:58:54):</p><p>Were they, like, what was the vibe?</p><p>(00:58:56):</p><p>Vibes were high.</p><p>(00:58:57):</p><p>Vibes are always high.</p><p>(00:58:59):</p><p>Okay, so you still enjoyed it.</p><p>(00:59:00):</p><p>It was just like, but you just, were you there for the football?</p><p>(00:59:02):</p><p>Do people actually, like, were they hopeful, optimistic?</p><p>(00:59:05):</p><p>Yeah, of course.</p><p>(00:59:07):</p><p>Always.</p><p>(00:59:07):</p><p>That’s what I’m saying.</p><p>(00:59:08):</p><p>Vibes are high, man.</p><p>(00:59:10):</p><p>Vibes are big.</p><p>(00:59:12):</p><p>You could be a Husker fan with that kind of attitude.</p><p>(00:59:16):</p><p>Yeah, but I have too much self-respect.</p><p>(00:59:20):</p><p>Hey, water’s warm.</p><p>(00:59:21):</p><p>You can join whenever you want.</p><p>(00:59:24):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:59:26):</p><p>Anything else, Kylie?</p><p>(00:59:28):</p><p>I don’t think so.</p><p>(00:59:28):</p><p>Any other questions about what makes me so interesting?</p><p>(00:59:31):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:59:32):</p><p>I don’t even know if we covered it.</p><p>(00:59:34):</p><p>I don’t know if we’ve convinced my three viewers yet that you’re worth this time</p><p>(00:59:38):</p><p>while they’re on the treadmill.</p><p>(00:59:41):</p><p>But one thing I’ve learned about just listening to podcasts is that really people</p><p>(00:59:46):</p><p>have,</p><p>(00:59:48):</p><p>they have very low expectations out of a lot of their podcasts.</p><p>(00:59:50):</p><p>I listened to my interview, who was it?</p><p>(00:59:55):</p><p>Kristen Wiig.</p><p>(00:59:58):</p><p>It was the worst interview I think I’ve ever heard in my life.</p><p>(01:00:00):</p><p>This is easily a better interview than that.</p><p>(01:00:02):</p><p>Kristen Wiig.</p><p>(01:00:03):</p><p>Oh, it’s awful.</p><p>(01:00:04):</p><p>You should listen to it.</p><p>(01:00:06):</p><p>It’s awful.</p><p>(01:00:06):</p><p>It’s awful.</p><p>(01:00:07):</p><p>it’s a total waste of time you should you should interesting that’s like actually</p><p>(01:00:11):</p><p>kind of fascinating it is like that was yeah because those two people are like in</p><p>(01:00:17):</p><p>showbiz let’s say their whole thing like I love Conan and I think that he’s the</p><p>(01:00:21):</p><p>kind of guy that like really wants his guests to come across well you know yeah you</p><p>(01:00:26):</p><p>can just see him like just wheels turning trying to help her and he would say stuff</p><p>(01:00:31):</p><p>like uh like Kristen Wiig would give responses like</p><p>(01:00:35):</p><p>Yeah, some people just think I’m, you know, not very interesting.</p><p>(01:00:38):</p><p>And you’d be like, oh, really?</p><p>(01:00:41):</p><p>It’s like going to be like, what?</p><p>(01:00:42):</p><p>Yeah, no.</p><p>(01:00:43):</p><p>I’ve actually heard interviews of him talking about how practiced he or how he like</p><p>(01:00:48):</p><p>made it a skill for himself to be a good host and interviewer.</p><p>(01:00:52):</p><p>So he like, yeah, he takes it very seriously.</p><p>(01:00:55):</p><p>And especially because he kind of had to like on his show,</p><p>(01:00:58):</p><p>especially early on,</p><p>(01:00:59):</p><p>he was interviewing like C and D list celebrities or like kids who were like,</p><p>(01:01:04):</p><p>had like</p><p>(01:01:05):</p><p>By C.S.</p><p>(01:01:05):</p><p>Beaty</p><p>(01:01:22):</p><p>He always has this fake,</p><p>(01:01:23):</p><p>I don’t think it’s most of the time fake,</p><p>(01:01:25):</p><p>I think summertime it has to be,</p><p>(01:01:26):</p><p>but it’s like,</p><p>(01:01:26):</p><p>oh yeah,</p><p>(01:01:27):</p><p>ketchup is great,</p><p>(01:01:28):</p><p>yeah.</p><p>(01:01:31):</p><p>You can see with Kristen Wiig that one,</p><p>(01:01:32):</p><p>which to your point,</p><p>(01:01:34):</p><p>I thought it would be great just knowing that she’s funny.</p><p>(01:01:37):</p><p>And it was</p><p>(01:01:40):</p><p>My heart just broke for this man because I’ve never been in that exact situation.</p><p>(01:01:44):</p><p>I’m really going through it, Conan.</p><p>(01:01:45):</p><p>I’ve been in a lot of terrible sales calls where you could tell it’s just not working.</p><p>(01:01:50):</p><p>But man, it was rough.</p><p>(01:01:51):</p><p>Maybe you should rethink what you’re doing.</p><p>(01:01:53):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:01:55):</p><p>But that being said, I’ll take Kristen Wiig on my podcast anytime.</p><p>(01:01:58):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:01:58):</p><p>Good idea.</p><p>(01:01:59):</p><p>I bet she’s open to it.</p><p>(01:02:01):</p><p>Now that she knows that you hate her.</p><p>(01:02:05):</p><p>I think she’s an awful podcast interviewer.</p><p>(01:02:08):</p><p>If she wasn’t eager before, she’s eager now.</p><p>(01:02:13):</p><p>That’s the trick.</p><p>(01:02:14):</p><p>That’s the secret sauce.</p><p>(01:02:16):</p><p>Alright, Kylie.</p><p>(01:02:18):</p><p>You’ll get there.</p><p>(01:02:19):</p><p>Thank you.</p><p>(01:02:22):</p><p>My pleasure.</p><p>(01:02:23):</p><p>There’s no close.</p><p>(01:02:24):</p><p>I don’t know how we’re supposed to do this.</p><p>(01:02:27):</p><p>The last podcast we closed was...</p><p>(01:02:30):</p><p>My wife said a text saying, it’s raining outside and Ben’s trunk is open.</p><p>(01:02:34):</p><p>Ben was my guest.</p><p>(01:02:35):</p><p>So we said, we better get outside and close the trunk.</p><p>(01:02:38):</p><p>Time to close up shop.</p><p>(01:02:39):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:02:40):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:02:40):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(01:02:41):</p><p>Well, it’s been a slice.</p><p>(01:02:42):</p><p>Always a pleasure, Christopher Beaty.</p><p>(01:02:44):</p><p>Thank you.</p><p>(01:02:46):</p><p>Interesting People is produced by Chris Beaty in his basement.</p><p>(01:02:50):</p><p>Thank you to Kylie Sheehy for always being a thrill to talk to,</p><p>(01:02:53):</p><p>even when it’s just to make fun of me.</p><p>(01:02:55):</p><p>Be sure to check out her kick-ass non-profit she’s a part of, Mobile Loaves and Fishes.</p><p>(01:03:01):</p><p>Its web address looks a lot like MILF.org, but it’s not that one.</p><p>(01:03:04):</p><p>It’s MLF.org.</p><p>(01:03:06):</p><p>MILF.org is something else.</p><p>(01:03:09):</p><p>Signing off from the greatest city on earth,</p><p>(01:03:11):</p><p>some might even say better than Austin,</p><p>(01:03:12):</p><p>Texas,</p><p>(01:03:14):</p><p>Omaha,</p><p>(01:03:14):</p><p>Nebraska.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/interesting-people-tech-bro-and-friend</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:200191964</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty and Kiley]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 09 Jun 2026 10:56:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/200191964/223c07965cf4e752345858ddc5469c9e.mp3" length="60768785" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty and Kiley</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>3798</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/200191964/6841bf66b18b758a0f20b2c2175afd6d.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[Interesting People: Retired Newspaper Reporter Uncle Bob Copperstone ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>Introducing retired newspaper reporter, Wahoo, Nebraska historian, and not my real uncle: Uncle Bob Copperstone. </p><p><p>You know Bob is fun to listen to, so are my other friends. You’ll want to subscribe. </p></p><p></p><p>Today’s guest is retired journalist,</p><p>(00:00:33):</p><p>Wahoo,</p><p>(00:00:34):</p><p>Nebraska historian,</p><p>(00:00:36):</p><p>and not my real uncle,</p><p>(00:00:37):</p><p>Uncle Bob Copperstone.</p><p>(00:00:41):</p><p>All right, you ready for this?</p><p>(00:00:43):</p><p>Ready as I’ll ever be.</p><p>(00:00:45):</p><p>Okay, so the idea behind this podcast is to convince people that they’re interesting.</p><p>(00:00:50):</p><p>Do you need to be convinced that you’re interesting?</p><p>(00:00:52):</p><p>I feel like you probably already know that.</p><p>(00:00:54):</p><p>What makes you interesting?</p><p>(00:00:56):</p><p>Oh, hell, I earned it.</p><p>(00:00:59):</p><p>How’d you earn it?</p><p>(00:01:01):</p><p>By being interesting for so long.</p><p>(00:01:03):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:01:04):</p><p>When did you first start being interesting?</p><p>(00:01:06):</p><p>I never stopped.</p><p>(00:01:08):</p><p>You were born that way?</p><p>(00:01:09):</p><p>I was born that way.</p><p>(00:01:10):</p><p>All right.</p><p>(00:01:11):</p><p>So you’re born in Wahoo, right?</p><p>(00:01:13):</p><p>Isn’t everybody?</p><p>(00:01:14):</p><p>Oh, I guess I was wrong.</p><p>(00:01:15):</p><p>Everybody that matters, huh?</p><p>(00:01:16):</p><p>That’s true.</p><p>(00:01:18):</p><p>All right.</p><p>(00:01:18):</p><p>So here’s the list.</p><p>(00:01:19):</p><p>I made a list of things that I knew about you.</p><p>(00:01:20):</p><p>So you’re born in Wahoo.</p><p>(00:01:22):</p><p>You helped run the family-owned Wigwam Cafe as a kid.</p><p>(00:01:26):</p><p>At some point, you moved to California, and you became a newspaper reporter.</p><p>(00:01:31):</p><p>You’re married at some point, I think.</p><p>(00:01:33):</p><p>You don’t really talk about it to me.</p><p>(00:01:34):</p><p>And then at some point you drove a truck cross-country picking up antiques.</p><p>(00:01:38):</p><p>You told me that once.</p><p>(00:01:40):</p><p>And then you moved back to Wahoo to retire.</p><p>(00:01:42):</p><p>Was that about right?</p><p>(00:01:43):</p><p>That’s about right.</p><p>(00:01:44):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:01:44):</p><p>Why did you decide to become a reporter then?</p><p>(00:01:48):</p><p>Ever since I was in high school, I was a bad student.</p><p>(00:01:54):</p><p>Mediocre Ds and Cs.</p><p>(00:01:59):</p><p>And I thought,</p><p>(00:01:59):</p><p>well,</p><p>(00:02:00):</p><p>at one of the classes,</p><p>(00:02:03):</p><p>a civics class,</p><p>(00:02:05):</p><p>the teacher asked us what we want to do when we get elderly.</p><p>(00:02:15):</p><p>And I thought, well, I want to be a reporter.</p><p>(00:02:20):</p><p>Well, that goes back quite a way.</p><p>(00:02:23):</p><p>Did you know any reporters?</p><p>(00:02:24):</p><p>Why did you tell her you wanted to be one?</p><p>(00:02:28):</p><p>Well, wasn’t Clark Kent a reporter?</p><p>(00:02:33):</p><p>So you saw a little Superman in yourself?</p><p>(00:02:35):</p><p>Probably.</p><p>(00:02:38):</p><p>At least a close friend.</p><p>(00:02:42):</p><p>Anyhow,</p><p>(00:02:45):</p><p>I started,</p><p>(00:02:47):</p><p>when I went to California,</p><p>(00:02:49):</p><p>or before I went to California,</p><p>(00:02:52):</p><p>I worked at the Bellevue Press.</p><p>(00:02:55):</p><p>right after graduation and I had that in front of me and I worked in a print shop,</p><p>(00:03:05):</p><p>a newspaper print shop here in Wahoo and in Bellevue.</p><p>(00:03:12):</p><p>And in Bellevue they let me work,</p><p>(00:03:15):</p><p>they let me interview a guy who lived in a trailer court and had a thousand</p><p>(00:03:23):</p><p>Tropical Fish in it and then their name was Trout.</p><p>(00:03:27):</p><p>And so I made a little story out of that and they printed it on the front page.</p><p>(00:03:32):</p><p>Since I was working on the press,</p><p>(00:03:36):</p><p>the big cylinder press that printed the paper,</p><p>(00:03:41):</p><p>I was able to print my own first,</p><p>(00:03:43):</p><p>my first byline.</p><p>(00:03:47):</p><p>I both wrote it and printed it.</p><p>(00:03:52):</p><p>And I still have that.</p><p>(00:03:54):</p><p>Anyhow,</p><p>(00:03:54):</p><p>I started with the newspapers there,</p><p>(00:03:56):</p><p>then I went to California after a year in Bellevue.</p><p>(00:04:00):</p><p>I had gotten a Triumph TR3 sports car, an English sports car, and I drove that to California.</p><p>(00:04:12):</p><p>I mailed the passenger seat ahead of time and put all my belongings on that spot.</p><p>(00:04:25):</p><p>I drove to California.</p><p>(00:04:27):</p><p>Got a job at a print shop there.</p><p>(00:04:30):</p><p>While I was looking for work, I didn’t know how to type.</p><p>(00:04:38):</p><p>And I asked the managing editor of the paper that I wanted to work at.</p><p>(00:04:43):</p><p>He says, fill this out.</p><p>(00:04:44):</p><p>And I said, can I use, can I write?</p><p>(00:04:48):</p><p>Can I fill it out with a written one?</p><p>(00:04:51):</p><p>And he says, yeah.</p><p>(00:04:53):</p><p>But, of course, I didn’t get that job.</p><p>(00:04:57):</p><p>What made you want to go to California?</p><p>(00:04:59):</p><p>Why didn’t you just get a job closer to Nebraska?</p><p>(00:05:02):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:05:02):</p><p>I did work as a printer’s devil at the Wahoo newspaper in the print shop when I was</p><p>(00:05:08):</p><p>still in high school.</p><p>(00:05:12):</p><p>When I worked in Bellevue, I lived in a flop house on 13th Street in Omaha.</p><p>(00:05:20):</p><p>And I had my time off tier 3 then.</p><p>(00:05:22):</p><p>And I spent one winter in Omaha driving through that little sports car,</p><p>(00:05:29):</p><p>trying to drive that through the snow.</p><p>(00:05:31):</p><p>This ain’t for me.</p><p>(00:05:34):</p><p>California calls.</p><p>(00:05:35):</p><p>Took off between snowstorms.</p><p>(00:05:38):</p><p>I drove as far south as I could to get out of that blizzard and carried it all the</p><p>(00:05:44):</p><p>way to California.</p><p>(00:05:46):</p><p>In your sports car?</p><p>(00:05:48):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:05:49):</p><p>Did you have a job then or you just decided to get out of the winter?</p><p>(00:05:52):</p><p>I stayed with my aunt and uncle.</p><p>(00:05:53):</p><p>They lived there since the 40s and that was my shelter.</p><p>(00:05:59):</p><p>Did you get a job after you moved or did you have a job lined up already?</p><p>(00:06:02):</p><p>No, I went job searching.</p><p>(00:06:05):</p><p>I ended up at a print shop in San Gabriel that printed wedding invitations and so</p><p>(00:06:12):</p><p>forth and that carried me through for about a year.</p><p>(00:06:18):</p><p>And I decided to, I wasn’t making it at that print shop.</p><p>(00:06:23):</p><p>I wasn’t making enough money.</p><p>(00:06:25):</p><p>So I quit there and decided, my cousins were fuller brushmen.</p><p>(00:06:37):</p><p>And I became a fuller brushman.</p><p>(00:06:41):</p><p>Of the door-to-door salesman?</p><p>(00:06:43):</p><p>Selling brushes?</p><p>(00:06:45):</p><p>Selling brushes.</p><p>(00:06:47):</p><p>Were you good at it?</p><p>(00:06:49):</p><p>Well, I went from door to door.</p><p>(00:06:54):</p><p>I didn’t, I was too shy to meet people.</p><p>(00:06:58):</p><p>I’d go door to door.</p><p>(00:06:59):</p><p>I’d say, nobody home, I hope, I hope.</p><p>(00:07:02):</p><p>You’d mutter that to yourself?</p><p>(00:07:02):</p><p>I’d mutter that and then plow it on through.</p><p>(00:07:05):</p><p>And if I got somebody’s attention,</p><p>(00:07:07):</p><p>I just held them there with,</p><p>(00:07:09):</p><p>practically grabbed them by the collar and told them to listen to what I have to</p><p>(00:07:12):</p><p>say.</p><p>(00:07:14):</p><p>And I didn’t do well at all.</p><p>(00:07:18):</p><p>I drove back to Wahoo.</p><p>(00:07:20):</p><p>What was your pitch to sell fuller brushes?</p><p>(00:07:24):</p><p>They last for a good long time.</p><p>(00:07:27):</p><p>Did they?</p><p>(00:07:28):</p><p>Whatever they’re looking at, that’ll last for a good long time.</p><p>(00:07:32):</p><p>Somehow I thought that would be magic, but it didn’t work.</p><p>(00:07:39):</p><p>It’s, uh...</p><p>(00:07:42):</p><p>So I went back to Wahoo.</p><p>(00:07:43):</p><p>So you went to, you’re a fuller brush salesman in California, you went back to Wahoo after that?</p><p>(00:07:47):</p><p>Mm-hmm.</p><p>(00:07:48):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:07:48):</p><p>Yeah, I was kind of discouraged.</p><p>(00:07:50):</p><p>Oh, I was going to go to school.</p><p>(00:07:51):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:07:52):</p><p>And I did.</p><p>(00:07:53):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:07:53):</p><p>I went to the University of Nebraska.</p><p>(00:07:56):</p><p>Back to Lincoln, went to school.</p><p>(00:07:59):</p><p>Oh, when I came back from California, oh, I took, taking classes by mail.</p><p>(00:08:06):</p><p>From California?</p><p>(00:08:08):</p><p>No, from Wahoo.</p><p>(00:08:09):</p><p>Did you ever actually go to class in Lincoln?</p><p>(00:08:12):</p><p>Or was it all by mail?</p><p>(00:08:14):</p><p>Yeah, I did.</p><p>(00:08:14):</p><p>I took French class about a semester.</p><p>(00:08:18):</p><p>There was a print shop course.</p><p>(00:08:21):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:08:24):</p><p>It was in the basement of one of the buildings there.</p><p>(00:08:27):</p><p>And I really took to the print shop work, type of work.</p><p>(00:08:33):</p><p>I did that real well.</p><p>(00:08:36):</p><p>So I thought well I’ll quit my job here but my grades were falling real bad at the university.</p><p>(00:08:44):</p><p>That’s when I went to Bellevue.</p><p>(00:08:47):</p><p>I was doing real well at the print shop there at the university that I thought I’d</p><p>(00:08:51):</p><p>get a job doing the same thing and get paid for it.</p><p>(00:08:56):</p><p>So I worked for the Bellevue Press for about a year and decided I’d go back to</p><p>(00:09:04):</p><p>California and look for a job.</p><p>(00:09:07):</p><p>All right.</p><p>(00:09:08):</p><p>So you grew up in Wahoo.</p><p>(00:09:09):</p><p>You went to California, became a fuller brush salesman, came back.</p><p>(00:09:14):</p><p>Went to school,</p><p>(00:09:18):</p><p>got a job,</p><p>(00:09:19):</p><p>took a bunch of classes and got a job in Bellevue,</p><p>(00:09:21):</p><p>and then you decided to go back to California in order to get a reporting job,</p><p>(00:09:26):</p><p>a newspaper job.</p><p>(00:09:28):</p><p>And I did.</p><p>(00:09:28):</p><p>I told the editor there, I’ll work for a dollar an hour.</p><p>(00:09:32):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:09:33):</p><p>And they hired me and liked it.</p><p>(00:09:37):</p><p>As a reporter?</p><p>(00:09:39):</p><p>As a reporter, yeah.</p><p>(00:09:40):</p><p>I had my own paper, a little weekly paper.</p><p>(00:09:44):</p><p>I went to a city council meeting, my first one.</p><p>(00:09:48):</p><p>That was part of the job.</p><p>(00:09:50):</p><p>You keep track of what the city is doing.</p><p>(00:09:52):</p><p>And Covina is a town of about $50,000, something like that.</p><p>(00:09:54):</p><p>That’s small in Los Angeles County.</p><p>(00:10:12):</p><p>I went there and listened to the little discussions.</p><p>(00:10:17):</p><p>Went back the next day.</p><p>(00:10:19):</p><p>Wednesday was press day.</p><p>(00:10:22):</p><p>And I sat at my desk and Jim, the managing editor, he said, well, Bob, let’s have your story.</p><p>(00:10:32):</p><p>I sat there and I sat there.</p><p>(00:10:34):</p><p>Dune came and went.</p><p>(00:10:38):</p><p>Jim finally says, Bob, where’s your story?</p><p>(00:10:42):</p><p>I said, Jim, I don’t know what happened.</p><p>(00:10:48):</p><p>I thought, well, that’s the end of Bob.</p><p>(00:10:51):</p><p>Jim laughed.</p><p>(00:10:52):</p><p>Didn’t know what happened with your story?</p><p>(00:10:54):</p><p>No, I didn’t know what happened so I could write about it.</p><p>(00:10:57):</p><p>I didn’t know how to write it.</p><p>(00:10:58):</p><p>Nothing happened of note at the city council meeting.</p><p>(00:11:01):</p><p>Apparently.</p><p>(00:11:04):</p><p>I knew what happened.</p><p>(00:11:05):</p><p>I didn’t know how to put it to words.</p><p>(00:11:08):</p><p>Jim kind of chuckled.</p><p>(00:11:11):</p><p>And he got on the phone to the city administrator and said, hey, Joe, what happened last night?</p><p>(00:11:20):</p><p>And Jim wrote the story for me.</p><p>(00:11:22):</p><p>Did he give you credit?</p><p>(00:11:24):</p><p>Did he say it was written by you?</p><p>(00:11:25):</p><p>No, no, no.</p><p>(00:11:26):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:11:28):</p><p>But that was the last time Jim had to write my story.</p><p>(00:11:34):</p><p>I went to the next one.</p><p>(00:11:35):</p><p>I went to the library where there were three papers covering it.</p><p>(00:11:43):</p><p>And I read what they wrote and got this hang of it and was able to write my own</p><p>(00:11:51):</p><p>stories after that.</p><p>(00:11:53):</p><p>So you went and you read what other people wrote about the thing that you were</p><p>(00:11:57):</p><p>supposed to cover?</p><p>(00:11:58):</p><p>Yes, I read Jim’s story and Farewell is the House Done and I learned from that.</p><p>(00:12:07):</p><p>All the time learning how to type.</p><p>(00:12:09):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:12:10):</p><p>But it worked.</p><p>(00:12:11):</p><p>On a manual typewriter?</p><p>(00:12:12):</p><p>What was that process?</p><p>(00:12:14):</p><p>You had a manual typewriter and then you... You turn the copy into the back shop.</p><p>(00:12:20):</p><p>They read it.</p><p>(00:12:22):</p><p>They put it on a line of type.</p><p>(00:12:24):</p><p>Cast the lead type.</p><p>(00:12:29):</p><p>And put that lead type on a...</p><p>(00:12:33):</p><p>Printing Press and Print Your Paper.</p><p>(00:12:37):</p><p>Is it just one at a time, every letter at a time, or how do they cast it?</p><p>(00:12:42):</p><p>No, no, no.</p><p>(00:12:44):</p><p>They read my copy and type it out on the linotype.</p><p>(00:12:49):</p><p>There’s a separate machine that you type it into?</p><p>(00:12:51):</p><p>No, the linotype does.</p><p>(00:12:53):</p><p>Yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:12:54):</p><p>A different person does?</p><p>(00:12:55):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:12:55):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:12:57):</p><p>I turn in the paper to the back shop.</p><p>(00:12:59):</p><p>I turn in my paper to the back shop.</p><p>(00:13:03):</p><p>and story to the back shop and they put it down to type and print it.</p><p>(00:13:08):</p><p>So a linotype machine,</p><p>(00:13:09):</p><p>that was what you learned how to use and what you did in Bellevue or is that</p><p>(00:13:13):</p><p>something else?</p><p>(00:13:13):</p><p>No, my work stopped there.</p><p>(00:13:18):</p><p>The reporters don’t do the linotype.</p><p>(00:13:22):</p><p>But you did when you were in Bellevue, so you did your own?</p><p>(00:13:25):</p><p>No, I typed my own.</p><p>(00:13:27):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:13:27):</p><p>No, I typed</p><p>(00:13:29):</p><p>When you were a typesetter, didn’t you say you did that before too?</p><p>(00:13:32):</p><p>Before it?</p><p>(00:13:34):</p><p>Oh, I see what you’re getting at.</p><p>(00:13:36):</p><p>No, I never did that.</p><p>(00:13:37):</p><p>I never had to work the back shot.</p><p>(00:13:39):</p><p>I never had to print the paper myself as a reporter.</p><p>(00:13:44):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:13:46):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:13:47):</p><p>it gets a little more complicated because I ran a Ludlow,</p><p>(00:13:50):</p><p>which Ludlow Press,</p><p>(00:13:53):</p><p>Ludlow typesetter,</p><p>(00:13:55):</p><p>which printed the fancy type.</p><p>(00:13:59):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:13:59):</p><p>A larger type that wouldn’t fit on a line of type.</p><p>(00:14:06):</p><p>So what was your next big story?</p><p>(00:14:07):</p><p>So were you still covering city council meetings after that?</p><p>(00:14:10):</p><p>Yeah, you do everything that you expect a little weekly paper to use, yeah.</p><p>(00:14:18):</p><p>And sometimes it’s interesting, sometimes it’s not.</p><p>(00:14:24):</p><p>How long ago were you at that newspaper?</p><p>(00:14:30):</p><p>Actually,</p><p>(00:14:31):</p><p>the Monrovia Daily News,</p><p>(00:14:34):</p><p>or Monrovia was another paper in that San Gabriel Valley area,</p><p>(00:14:40):</p><p>and they hired me as a reporter after that,</p><p>(00:14:47):</p><p>the one that I had to learn on.</p><p>(00:14:51):</p><p>And from there, that was a small daily report.</p><p>(00:14:59):</p><p>And eventually the San Gibe Valley Daily Tribune,</p><p>(00:15:04):</p><p>which was nearing 100,000 circulation daily,</p><p>(00:15:08):</p><p>that was a big paper.</p><p>(00:15:11):</p><p>And they lifted me out of Monrovia and the next step up was the Tribune.</p><p>(00:15:20):</p><p>And I rose to the assistant city editor of that paper before I retired.</p><p>(00:15:32):</p><p>And that was the last paper you were at?</p><p>(00:15:33):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:15:34):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:15:35):</p><p>So what was your duties like as the assistant city editor?</p><p>(00:15:42):</p><p>They had a staff of about 20.</p><p>(00:15:45):</p><p>And five photographers.</p><p>(00:15:50):</p><p>And I was responsible for looking first at the copy that came through those</p><p>(00:15:56):</p><p>reporters and pass it on to the next editor.</p><p>(00:16:02):</p><p>Do you have any stories you remember that you had</p><p>(00:16:07):</p><p>Were some of your favorites?</p><p>(00:16:08):</p><p>Oh, excuse me, yes.</p><p>(00:16:10):</p><p>I worked as a reporter for about five years.</p><p>(00:16:14):</p><p>Then I was an editor.</p><p>(00:16:16):</p><p>Yeah, I had some good stories when I was a reporter.</p><p>(00:16:23):</p><p>I had a humorous vein sometimes.</p><p>(00:16:29):</p><p>And I had my own political...</p><p>(00:16:35):</p><p>Political writer, editor, writer for a couple of years.</p><p>(00:16:41):</p><p>Any stick out?</p><p>(00:16:42):</p><p>What was one that you remember that you thought was good?</p><p>(00:16:45):</p><p>I was supposed to go to the hotel where Bobby Kennedy was murdered.</p><p>(00:16:50):</p><p>I was supposed to go to that lay in Los Angeles when I was editor of the political</p><p>(00:16:57):</p><p>editor,</p><p>(00:16:58):</p><p>but I couldn’t make it and missed it,</p><p>(00:17:00):</p><p>so I missed it.</p><p>(00:17:04):</p><p>Writing an obituary for that.</p><p>(00:17:07):</p><p>Really?</p><p>(00:17:08):</p><p>Do you remember why you missed it?</p><p>(00:17:11):</p><p>I didn’t want to go.</p><p>(00:17:12):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:17:14):</p><p>I didn’t want to drive to Los Angeles.</p><p>(00:17:16):</p><p>So you found an excuse to get out of it, huh?</p><p>(00:17:18):</p><p>Get out of it.</p><p>(00:17:20):</p><p>Foolish man.</p><p>(00:17:22):</p><p>So what made you want to go back to Oahu?</p><p>(00:17:24):</p><p>Why didn’t you stay in California?</p><p>(00:17:25):</p><p>My mother was not well, and I was about ready to retire.</p><p>(00:17:32):</p><p>And you’ve been living in Oahu ever since then?</p><p>(00:17:40):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:17:45):</p><p>California never was home to me.</p><p>(00:17:48):</p><p>Now my sister Rochelle</p><p>(00:17:51):</p><p>And my little sister Janie both moved to California too.</p><p>(00:17:58):</p><p>Janie died pretty much early in life, bless her heart.</p><p>(00:18:04):</p><p>But Rochelle is still there to this day and that’s home to her.</p><p>(00:18:09):</p><p>She got married and raised a family.</p><p>(00:18:16):</p><p>I got married and got a divorce.</p><p>(00:18:19):</p><p>And so I never set any roots at that point.</p><p>(00:18:24):</p><p>I should probably clarify you’re not actually my uncle.</p><p>(00:18:27):</p><p>So whose uncle are you?</p><p>(00:18:28):</p><p>Everybody calls you Uncle Bob.</p><p>(00:18:30):</p><p>Rochelle and Janie, my sisters.</p><p>(00:18:34):</p><p>My niece and my two nieces, Kathy and Tina, are Janie’s children.</p><p>(00:18:46):</p><p>Actually, to my neighbors, I’m Uncle Bob.</p><p>(00:18:48):</p><p>Yeah?</p><p>(00:18:50):</p><p>Everybody, even your neighbors call you Uncle Bob?</p><p>(00:18:53):</p><p>Some do, yeah.</p><p>(00:18:54):</p><p>Yeah?</p><p>(00:18:56):</p><p>Yep.</p><p>(00:18:57):</p><p>Kind of trips off the tongue.</p><p>(00:18:58):</p><p>Yeah?</p><p>(00:18:59):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:19:00):</p><p>And I’m so damn lovable.</p><p>(00:19:02):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:19:03):</p><p>You might as well be everyone’s uncle.</p><p>(00:19:05):</p><p>That’s true.</p><p>(00:19:06):</p><p>Why not?</p><p>(00:19:06):</p><p>It doesn’t cost anything.</p><p>(00:19:07):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:19:08):</p><p>My kids are always,</p><p>(00:19:10):</p><p>they call you Uncle Bob and they try to figure out how you’re related to them too.</p><p>(00:19:13):</p><p>Oh, is that right?</p><p>(00:19:14):</p><p>Yes, it hurts.</p><p>(00:19:16):</p><p>Yeah, that could be kind of, that could be kind of</p><p>(00:19:22):</p><p>So why do you why do you write so much about the wigwam cafe and your childhood</p><p>(00:19:27):</p><p>what is It’s for some reason I can’t remember what I had for breakfast But I can</p><p>(00:19:41):</p><p>remember when I was five years old.</p><p>(00:19:43):</p><p>I was first day in kindergarten And it just comes to be natural.</p><p>(00:19:48):</p><p>Yeah</p><p>(00:19:48):</p><p>It’s just,</p><p>(00:19:50):</p><p>I mean,</p><p>(00:19:51):</p><p>down to the,</p><p>(00:19:52):</p><p>what I was smelling when I first walked outdoors kind of remembrance.</p><p>(00:20:00):</p><p>It just comes back.</p><p>(00:20:03):</p><p>And if I’m not exactly on cue, I’m absolutely correct.</p><p>(00:20:09):</p><p>There’s nobody who’s gonna correct me.</p><p>(00:20:15):</p><p>I can be Superman’s uncle</p><p>(00:20:18):</p><p>Nobody would doubt it.</p><p>(00:20:20):</p><p>Nobody would doubt if you’re Superman’s uncle?</p><p>(00:20:22):</p><p>That’s true.</p><p>(00:20:23):</p><p>I won’t challenge you on it.</p><p>(00:20:28):</p><p>You could bring up figures and dates, but it wouldn’t help me.</p><p>(00:20:34):</p><p>How much has Wahoo changed since those times?</p><p>(00:20:36):</p><p>Has it changed a lot or not by much?</p><p>(00:20:40):</p><p>Just about what you’d expect.</p><p>(00:20:43):</p><p>Missing some of the good stuff, God knows.</p><p>(00:20:48):</p><p>But it weren’t all that good.</p><p>(00:20:54):</p><p>Everybody lives a life that looks better from a distance.</p><p>(00:21:00):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:21:01):</p><p>I’m one of them.</p><p>(00:21:03):</p><p>Your life looks better from a distance?</p><p>(00:21:06):</p><p>It’s, well, I’m different from what I was, so so am I.</p><p>(00:21:19):</p><p>So you would say Wahoo’s changed a little bit,</p><p>(00:21:21):</p><p>but at the end of the day,</p><p>(00:21:23):</p><p>it’s still got a lot of the same things or a lot different?</p><p>(00:21:26):</p><p>I mean,</p><p>(00:21:27):</p><p>you chose to retire and live here the rest of your life,</p><p>(00:21:29):</p><p>even after seeing the glamour of Hollywood and California.</p><p>(00:21:35):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:21:35):</p><p>I tell you,</p><p>(00:21:36):</p><p>I miss more than that,</p><p>(00:21:39):</p><p>because I can entertain myself just about anywhere,</p><p>(00:21:42):</p><p>but more than that,</p><p>(00:21:45):</p><p>I miss the people.</p><p>(00:21:46):</p><p>Of Wahoo?</p><p>(00:21:48):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:21:50):</p><p>What do you like about the people of Wahoo?</p><p>(00:21:57):</p><p>Not much.</p><p>(00:21:59):</p><p>You want to change your answer then?</p><p>(00:22:01):</p><p>I wonder about that.</p><p>(00:22:05):</p><p>Actually, life is the further away from it, the better and the milder it becomes.</p><p>(00:22:12):</p><p>Well, you have anything else you want to... We’ve been going for about a half hour.</p><p>(00:22:15):</p><p>That’s pretty good.</p><p>(00:22:16):</p><p>Anything else you feel like... Any wisdom you want to impart to the world?</p><p>(00:22:21):</p><p>Any thoughts about... Oh, God, don’t follow me.</p><p>(00:22:23):</p><p>Don’t follow you?</p><p>(00:22:28):</p><p>You can do better.</p><p>(00:22:29):</p><p>No, I... Wahoo people have a sense of humor.</p><p>(00:22:37):</p><p>And I was born with it and I kept it.</p><p>(00:22:41):</p><p>I think I owe it to a lot of the people I grew up with who treated me mildly and decently.</p><p>(00:22:48):</p><p>Bless their hearts.</p><p>(00:22:59):</p><p>I hope to have a worthwhile</p><p>(00:23:10):</p><p>lifetime.</p><p>(00:23:13):</p><p>Sometimes when I wasn’t as human as I thought I should be, I forgive myself.</p><p>(00:23:24):</p><p>I did the best I could.</p><p>(00:23:25):</p><p>We all do the best we can.</p><p>(00:23:28):</p><p>And what they do in Wahoo is pretty damn good.</p><p>(00:23:34):</p><p>But the damn weather.</p><p>(00:23:37):</p><p>Curse that weather.</p><p>(00:23:41):</p><p>California’s got them beat on that, huh?</p><p>(00:23:43):</p><p>Oh my gosh.</p><p>(00:23:47):</p><p>I wonder what the heck I’m doing here sometimes when the snow flies.</p><p>(00:23:55):</p><p>I always did.</p><p>(00:23:56):</p><p>Now my dad was the, I don’t know why I didn’t inherit more of his.</p><p>(00:24:06):</p><p>He was born to be an Eskimo and missed his calling.</p><p>(00:24:11):</p><p>I was on the back end.</p><p>(00:24:15):</p><p>I was a child at the time.</p><p>(00:24:17):</p><p>I was riding in the back end of his 1947 Harley Davidson Hill Climber motorcycle.</p><p>(00:24:30):</p><p>And it didn’t even have a,</p><p>(00:24:31):</p><p>it had a little small shield,</p><p>(00:24:34):</p><p>windshield on the driver’s benefit up front.</p><p>(00:24:40):</p><p>But his arms were stretched out, bare arms, I might add.</p><p>(00:24:46):</p><p>It was wintertime.</p><p>(00:24:48):</p><p>Bare arms.</p><p>(00:24:49):</p><p>And I said, Dad, I’m freezing back here.</p><p>(00:24:55):</p><p>Aren’t you cold?</p><p>(00:24:56):</p><p>He said, no, no, no, I’m not cold.</p><p>(00:24:59):</p><p>Your arms are out there in the wind.</p><p>(00:25:03):</p><p>No, no, feel them.</p><p>(00:25:05):</p><p>Warm as toast.</p><p>(00:25:07):</p><p>In the wind.</p><p>(00:25:08):</p><p>In the wintertime.</p><p>(00:25:10):</p><p>Bless his heart.</p><p>(00:25:12):</p><p>So you didn’t inherit that from him?</p><p>(00:25:16):</p><p>I wish I had inherited his Harley.</p><p>(00:25:19):</p><p>You wish you inherited his Harley?</p><p>(00:25:20):</p><p>Yeah, I wish I had.</p><p>(00:25:22):</p><p>Later he had a real knucklehead full size.</p><p>(00:25:28):</p><p>Boy oh that the hill climber though that I was on the back of that’s a little</p><p>(00:25:37):</p><p>leather pad leather stuffed pad on that fender and that was designed for the hill</p><p>(00:25:45):</p><p>climber driver rider driver I guess to sit his butt back there and put the weight</p><p>(00:25:53):</p><p>on the</p><p>(00:25:56):</p><p>Powered Rear Wheel.</p><p>(00:25:59):</p><p>Well, I sat on that.</p><p>(00:26:00):</p><p>I was about 10 or 11, God knows.</p><p>(00:26:03):</p><p>And we were going to a hill climber at Morse Bluff.</p><p>(00:26:10):</p><p>This was in about 1949, I guess.</p><p>(00:26:13):</p><p>And he had to stop every mile or so on the bumpy country road</p><p>(00:26:23):</p><p>So my kidneys would stop aching.</p><p>(00:26:27):</p><p>I was bawling back there.</p><p>(00:26:30):</p><p>And we never could make a straight line to it because it wasn’t hell on wheels.</p><p>(00:26:38):</p><p>There wasn’t much of a suspension on it?</p><p>(00:26:41):</p><p>It was a hard tail.</p><p>(00:26:46):</p><p>None of that sissy stuff for us.</p><p>(00:26:48):</p><p>God knows I wanted it.</p><p>(00:26:55):</p><p>Didn’t you say he made like a special pad just for you to sit on on that bike?</p><p>(00:26:59):</p><p>No, that’s what that hill climber did.</p><p>(00:27:03):</p><p>That was its purpose.</p><p>(00:27:06):</p><p>A hill climber.</p><p>(00:27:07):</p><p>They had contests at Morse Bluff in this case.</p><p>(00:27:12):</p><p>And they’d all try to get up to the top of the hill without falling on their tail.</p><p>(00:27:21):</p><p>It was a contest.</p><p>(00:27:23):</p><p>I thought you told a story once that your dad had a special seat that you sat on</p><p>(00:27:27):</p><p>the back of his seat.</p><p>(00:27:29):</p><p>No, that was the seat I was talking about.</p><p>(00:27:31):</p><p>That was not meant for passengers, but it was designed for it.</p><p>(00:27:42):</p><p>Actually, Dad had bought that hillclamber from my cousin, my elder cousin,</p><p>(00:27:53):</p><p>He dumped it and never got back on it.</p><p>(00:27:58):</p><p>They were designed to be fallen upon and served a purpose well.</p><p>(00:28:06):</p><p>Designed to be fallen on?</p><p>(00:28:10):</p><p>To be dumped.</p><p>(00:28:11):</p><p>Oh, to be dumped.</p><p>(00:28:13):</p><p>No, the purpose of the hill climb was to stay on without getting dumped.</p><p>(00:28:18):</p><p>If you do, you get back on.</p><p>(00:28:20):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:28:22):</p><p>So they’re meant to take a lot of abuse then?</p><p>(00:28:25):</p><p>Yeah, they were abusive, that’s a fact.</p><p>(00:28:30):</p><p>When’s the last time you were on a motorcycle?</p><p>(00:28:33):</p><p>I bought one of my own.</p><p>(00:28:34):</p><p>I bought a Suzuki when I was in California.</p><p>(00:28:38):</p><p>We rode that all over California.</p><p>(00:28:41):</p><p>I loved it.</p><p>(00:28:43):</p><p>Well, any parting thoughts or wisdom or anything else?</p><p>(00:28:48):</p><p>Oh, Lordy.</p><p>(00:28:55):</p><p>Yeah, brother, can you spare a dime?</p><p>(00:28:57):</p><p>A dime won’t get you much anymore.</p><p>(00:29:01):</p><p>Hey, baby, you might give it what you can.</p><p>(00:29:04):</p><p>You need to adjust your phrases for inflation there.</p><p>(00:29:08):</p><p>Brother, can you spare a 10-spot?</p><p>(00:29:10):</p><p>I’ll spare you a dime, that’s easy.</p><p>(00:29:13):</p><p>No, that’s not easy, I don’t have one.</p><p>(00:29:15):</p><p>You could have found something in my center console in my car over lunch.</p><p>(00:29:22):</p><p>I said I could have given you a whole bunch of dimes out of the center console of</p><p>(00:29:25):</p><p>my car when we were getting lunch earlier.</p><p>(00:29:30):</p><p>What would you do with the dime if I gave you one?</p><p>(00:29:34):</p><p>Probably tighten a screw.</p><p>(00:29:39):</p><p>Maybe I ought to get you a screwdriver.</p><p>(00:29:41):</p><p>No, no, no, this will work fine.</p><p>(00:29:44):</p><p>Haven’t you ever done that?</p><p>(00:29:45):</p><p>I mean, I’m...</p><p>(00:29:48):</p><p>I’m sure I have at some point in my life.</p><p>(00:29:50):</p><p>No, you can’t use a credit card either.</p><p>(00:29:54):</p><p>I tried that once and it broke.</p><p>(00:29:55):</p><p>The credit card broke?</p><p>(00:29:56):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:29:57):</p><p>Oh, no.</p><p>(00:29:58):</p><p>What kind of screws do you need?</p><p>(00:30:00):</p><p>How many screws do you need tightened?</p><p>(00:30:04):</p><p>Counting my brain?</p><p>(00:30:05):</p><p>Yeah, it seems like you got a few screws loose.</p><p>(00:30:07):</p><p>I think your screw is loose.</p><p>(00:30:12):</p><p>I’m good.</p><p>(00:30:13):</p><p>All right, let’s wrap this up.</p><p>(00:30:15):</p><p>Thanks, Bob.</p><p>(00:30:15):</p><p>I don’t know how to wrap up an interview, but you were the first one.</p><p>(00:30:19):</p><p>How’d it go?</p><p>(00:30:20):</p><p>Well, listen, I wish I could do better, but I was glad to try.</p><p>(00:30:26):</p><p>You did great.</p><p>(00:30:30):</p><p>All right, I’m going to turn this thing off.</p><p>(00:30:34):</p><p>Interesting People is produced by Chris Beaty in his basement.</p><p>(00:30:39):</p><p>And today’s episode was recorded in Uncle Bob’s recliner in his Wahoo, Nebraska living room.</p><p>(00:30:45):</p><p>If you want to hear more of Uncle Bob’s stories,</p><p>(00:30:48):</p><p>check out the As Told by Uncle Bob podcast episodes from the As Told by C.S.</p><p>(00:30:53):</p><p>Beaty podcast universe.</p><p>(00:30:55):</p><p>Please subscribe and tell all your friends about my interesting friends.</p><p>(00:30:59):</p><p>And if you have interesting friends, well, let me know so I can talk to them.</p><p>(00:31:04):</p><p>Signing off from the greatest city on earth, Omaha, Nebraska.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/interesting-people-newspaper-reporter</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:198893390</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty and Bob Copperstone -- wahoobob]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 02 Jun 2026 10:43:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/198893390/91e8c1690a664502def8260ad08fb663.mp3" length="29930921" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty and Bob Copperstone -- wahoobob</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>1871</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/198893390/67f218bf0c9c249dad1d21fa56b57495.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[Interesting People: Author and Illustrator Ben Lueders]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>I’m very excited to introduce my friend, author and illustrator Ben Lueders on a brand-new podcast from the As Told By C.S. Beaty empire. </p><p><p>There are way more interesting people coming who you’re not going to want to miss. Subscribe to make sure you don’t miss them!</p></p><p></p><p>Today’s guest is the guy who designed my book,</p><p>(00:00:33):</p><p>was in a band with me,</p><p>(00:00:35):</p><p>and sold me this podcast gear.</p><p>(00:00:37):</p><p>Author and artist, Ben Looters.</p><p>(00:00:42):</p><p>I don’t.</p><p>(00:00:42):</p><p>I bought this stuff from you and it took us two hours to do it and we didn’t make</p><p>(00:00:46):</p><p>it any farther.</p><p>(00:00:47):</p><p>And that was the story of the worst podcast purchase I’ve ever made.</p><p>(00:00:53):</p><p>Is this on?</p><p>(00:00:53):</p><p>Are you recording right now?</p><p>(00:00:54):</p><p>I am.</p><p>(00:00:55):</p><p>I mean, this may not make it to the end.</p><p>(00:00:56):</p><p>I got this magic audacity feature where for the next seven hours you can</p><p>(00:01:00):</p><p>individually cut certain things and change it and delete it.</p><p>(00:01:04):</p><p>It takes a really long time and it doesn’t turn out very well, but it’s awesome.</p><p>(00:01:09):</p><p>Oh man, I want to make sure I’m not like way over here like Bob.</p><p>(00:01:12):</p><p>Well, just like, should we put you in a rocking chair?</p><p>(00:01:14):</p><p>Because that’s how he did it.</p><p>(00:01:15):</p><p>Oh dude, that does sound good.</p><p>(00:01:17):</p><p>Yeah, he loved it.</p><p>(00:01:18):</p><p>When was the time you felt like a loser?</p><p>(00:01:21):</p><p>I didn’t</p><p>(00:01:39):</p><p>But I got a lot of matted fur cut out of my dog for that.</p><p>(00:01:43):</p><p>Well, hey, any time, bro.</p><p>(00:01:46):</p><p>Is that what it takes?</p><p>(00:01:47):</p><p>That’s the kind of show this is, just so you know.</p><p>(00:01:50):</p><p>It’s also the show that I’m getting really hot in this sweatshirt, so I’m going to take it off.</p><p>(00:01:54):</p><p>Oh, man.</p><p>(00:01:54):</p><p>I feel like this is why it needs to be a video podcast.</p><p>(00:01:57):</p><p>It is.</p><p>(00:01:57):</p><p>Every five minutes, Chris takes off another piece of clothing.</p><p>(00:02:01):</p><p>I reveal another tattoo.</p><p>(00:02:04):</p><p>Is that the only tattoo you... No, I got many.</p><p>(00:02:09):</p><p>You actually?</p><p>(00:02:09):</p><p>Yeah, you want me to do a naked podcast?</p><p>(00:02:12):</p><p>Is this going to be like the strip poker version of podcasts?</p><p>(00:02:15):</p><p>The thing about you,</p><p>(00:02:16):</p><p>Chris,</p><p>(00:02:17):</p><p>is like,</p><p>(00:02:17):</p><p>I think I know you really well,</p><p>(00:02:19):</p><p>but I don’t know you well enough to know sometimes when you’re joking and when</p><p>(00:02:23):</p><p>you’re not.</p><p>(00:02:24):</p><p>I never tell a lie.</p><p>(00:02:26):</p><p>That’s true.</p><p>(00:02:27):</p><p>I’m usually very odd.</p><p>(00:02:28):</p><p>I usually just try to frame things that makes you wonder if I’m telling the truth.</p><p>(00:02:31):</p><p>I think you say things that I hope you’re lying.</p><p>(00:02:34):</p><p>Yeah, they’re almost always true.</p><p>(00:02:36):</p><p>Yes, I have additional tattoos.</p><p>(00:02:39):</p><p>Would you like to see them?</p><p>(00:02:40):</p><p>Here’s one.</p><p>(00:02:41):</p><p>Oh, sure.</p><p>(00:02:41):</p><p>Here’s this one.</p><p>(00:02:42):</p><p>You should recognize this one.</p><p>(00:02:44):</p><p>Oh, that’s beautiful.</p><p>(00:02:46):</p><p>That’s the asterisk that I designed on the cover of your book.</p><p>(00:02:50):</p><p>I already told you that one’s below the belt.</p><p>(00:02:52):</p><p>No,</p><p>(00:02:52):</p><p>this is the tattoo from my wedding reception that you were at that apparently you</p><p>(00:02:57):</p><p>didn’t pay very good attention to.</p><p>(00:02:59):</p><p>Not enough to get it tattooed.</p><p>(00:03:01):</p><p>I have the arbitrary Greek tattoo that says,</p><p>(00:03:05):</p><p>hey,</p><p>(00:03:05):</p><p>this isn’t Greek and I don’t know what it means,</p><p>(00:03:07):</p><p>but it’s not Chinese,</p><p>(00:03:08):</p><p>so it’s trendier.</p><p>(00:03:10):</p><p>And then I have on my back, I have That one’s harder to do.</p><p>(00:03:14):</p><p>I can come over there and undress you a little bit.</p><p>(00:03:17):</p><p>It’s going to be hard to get on this mic here.</p><p>(00:03:20):</p><p>That one’s got cocaine leaves on it.</p><p>(00:03:24):</p><p>That’s the seal of where my kids were born.</p><p>(00:03:26):</p><p>And literally the outskirt of it, this is another, is he telling the truth?</p><p>(00:03:29):</p><p>It’s cocaine leaves.</p><p>(00:03:31):</p><p>Is it actually?</p><p>(00:03:31):</p><p>Yeah, coca leaves, not cocaine.</p><p>(00:03:33):</p><p>Oh, it’s because of Coca-Cola.</p><p>(00:03:35):</p><p>They’re big fans of Coca-Cola and Tuluwa.</p><p>(00:03:38):</p><p>Yeah, Tuluwa.</p><p>(00:03:39):</p><p>Do they make you get that when you adopt someone from there?</p><p>(00:03:42):</p><p>It’s part of the process.</p><p>(00:03:43):</p><p>It’s paperwork.</p><p>(00:03:44):</p><p>That’s why it takes so long.</p><p>(00:03:45):</p><p>Stand in line for your tattoo.</p><p>(00:03:47):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:03:47):</p><p>Yeah everyone’s got a good tattoo we adopted three kids so all of them have the matching tattoo</p><p>(00:03:52):</p><p>Make sure you’re a bad parent by getting a tattoo right away.</p><p>(00:03:57):</p><p>Literally,</p><p>(00:03:57):</p><p>I waited to get this tattoo until after the kids were adopted because I had this,</p><p>(00:04:01):</p><p>we were watching it,</p><p>(00:04:02):</p><p>my kids were adopted from Columbia,</p><p>(00:04:03):</p><p>so we had watched a lot of Narcos before we went,</p><p>(00:04:06):</p><p>which is all about- Is that required viewing?</p><p>(00:04:08):</p><p>Yeah, that’s another part of the problem.</p><p>(00:04:10):</p><p>That’s also why it takes so long because there’s a lot of seasons to get through.</p><p>(00:04:12):</p><p>And I literally thought through my head,</p><p>(00:04:14):</p><p>because you know they have gang tattoos and I’ve always heard people,</p><p>(00:04:17):</p><p>maybe not always,</p><p>(00:04:17):</p><p>I’ve heard that people will get gang tattoos and they’ll be like,</p><p>(00:04:21):</p><p>you don’t have a gang tattoo then they get like I don’t know what kind of show this</p><p>(00:04:24):</p><p>they get their ass kicked I don’t know what my level of if I’m gonna do the e or</p><p>(00:04:27):</p><p>not on this podcast we didn’t swear with Bob I think oh I’ve heard these stories</p><p>(00:04:32):</p><p>they like get their ass kicked for having like fake gang tattoos by real gang</p><p>(00:04:35):</p><p>members I don’t know if that’s an urban legend but like so my first thought was I’m</p><p>(00:04:39):</p><p>gonna get this tattoo of where my kids are from and find out that that’s some</p><p>(00:04:43):</p><p>Colombian drug cartel logo and like</p><p>(00:04:47):</p><p>Either that or it’s going to save your life.</p><p>(00:04:50):</p><p>Probably.</p><p>(00:04:51):</p><p>They’re going to be coming at you and you flash your tattoo.</p><p>(00:04:55):</p><p>And they’re going to be like, oh, he’s one of us.</p><p>(00:04:57):</p><p>El gringo.</p><p>(00:04:58):</p><p>It’s like the thing that saves you.</p><p>(00:04:59):</p><p>It’s like, yeah, that would be really good.</p><p>(00:05:01):</p><p>I just knew that I was going to be in a pool with my kids that I couldn’t speak to.</p><p>(00:05:04):</p><p>And they’re either going to offer me cocaine or I don’t know.</p><p>(00:05:09):</p><p>I’ve seen a lot of narcos and they never repeat a murder twice.</p><p>(00:05:12):</p><p>So I don’t know what they would come up with.</p><p>(00:05:15):</p><p>Oh, man.</p><p>(00:05:16):</p><p>So this is what podcasting is like, huh?</p><p>(00:05:18):</p><p>I guess so.</p><p>(00:05:18):</p><p>It kind of feels like just talking.</p><p>(00:05:20):</p><p>So far, it’s been very visual.</p><p>(00:05:22):</p><p>I do think this,</p><p>(00:05:23):</p><p>I think if you’re going to keep going in this way,</p><p>(00:05:25):</p><p>where you’re taking off layers of clothes,</p><p>(00:05:27):</p><p>you’re showing tattoos,</p><p>(00:05:30):</p><p>giving people questionable drinks,</p><p>(00:05:33):</p><p>this is something people need to see.</p><p>(00:05:34):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:05:34):</p><p>so far,</p><p>(00:05:35):</p><p>the only hookup I have with podcast equipment is you,</p><p>(00:05:38):</p><p>and you’ve proven yourself to not be a very good source.</p><p>(00:05:41):</p><p>Hey, I told you to get the right cables.</p><p>(00:05:44):</p><p>You got them.</p><p>(00:05:44):</p><p>You made it work.</p><p>(00:05:45):</p><p>Yeah, and</p><p>(00:05:46):</p><p>Those didn’t set you back too far, did they?</p><p>(00:05:48):</p><p>Yeah, those Amazon Basics $7 a cable really did the trick after two hours of troubleshooting.</p><p>(00:05:55):</p><p>All right, Ben Looters.</p><p>(00:05:57):</p><p>What makes you interesting?</p><p>(00:05:58):</p><p>Oh, man.</p><p>(00:06:00):</p><p>What makes me... That’s the first question?</p><p>(00:06:02):</p><p>No, the first question was, when did you feel like a loser?</p><p>(00:06:04):</p><p>And you already did that.</p><p>(00:06:04):</p><p>Oh, that’s true.</p><p>(00:06:05):</p><p>And the second question was, do you want to see all my tattoos?</p><p>(00:06:07):</p><p>That’s true.</p><p>(00:06:08):</p><p>We’re like halfway through the show.</p><p>(00:06:10):</p><p>We’re five minutes.</p><p>(00:06:11):</p><p>This is a seven-minute podcast.</p><p>(00:06:12):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:06:13):</p><p>We’re at the end where you reveal why I’m not, why I’m interesting.</p><p>(00:06:17):</p><p>The trick to editing this is you do everything in like reverse chronological order.</p><p>(00:06:21):</p><p>Oh man, what makes me interesting?</p><p>(00:06:24):</p><p>I mean, I think I’m like moderately interesting.</p><p>(00:06:29):</p><p>I think I have like,</p><p>(00:06:30):</p><p>when I talk to other people,</p><p>(00:06:32):</p><p>like I do feel like I have a pretty interesting job and like my origin story is</p><p>(00:06:38):</p><p>somewhat unique.</p><p>(00:06:39):</p><p>So I don’t know, I think I’m somewhat interesting.</p><p>(00:06:42):</p><p>Do you think I’m interesting, Chris?</p><p>(00:06:43):</p><p>I feel it’s a weird thing to be asked, like, what makes me interesting.</p><p>(00:06:46):</p><p>It feels like I have to,</p><p>(00:06:47):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:06:48):</p><p>defend myself or do,</p><p>(00:06:49):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:06:49):</p><p>the Midwestern thing where I’m like,</p><p>(00:06:51):</p><p>no,</p><p>(00:06:51):</p><p>I’m not interested.</p><p>(00:06:52):</p><p>Yeah, where you’re so modest that you just, you have to say I’m a very bland personality.</p><p>(00:06:56):</p><p>Yeah, exactly.</p><p>(00:06:58):</p><p>Because I think you’re very bland,</p><p>(00:07:00):</p><p>so I just don’t want to get into a conversation with you about your boring life.</p><p>(00:07:03):</p><p>Oh, man.</p><p>(00:07:04):</p><p>Well, no, I think you’re interesting, but I also think that, like,</p><p>(00:07:07):</p><p>I think that everyone’s interesting, they just don’t necessarily know it.</p><p>(00:07:10):</p><p>Oh, so I’m not special, is that what you’re saying?</p><p>(00:07:12):</p><p>No,</p><p>(00:07:12):</p><p>I’m saying I’m trying to decide whether or not you are,</p><p>(00:07:15):</p><p>and we’re going to see how this goes.</p><p>(00:07:17):</p><p>I will say this,</p><p>(00:07:18):</p><p>yes,</p><p>(00:07:18):</p><p>I do think you’re interesting,</p><p>(00:07:19):</p><p>but I also wanted to start,</p><p>(00:07:20):</p><p>other than the fact that you’re the only person I knew that had podcasting</p><p>(00:07:23):</p><p>equipment I could buy.</p><p>(00:07:23):</p><p>Other than that, I did want to, yeah, that part I was not aware of when I made this choice.</p><p>(00:07:30):</p><p>I did want to start with you because you were the person that I always feel like I</p><p>(00:07:34):</p><p>never get to say everything I want to say in a conversation.</p><p>(00:07:39):</p><p>So what I mean by that is there’s certain people who are like,</p><p>(00:07:42):</p><p>I think I’ll try to think three questions ahead because they’re so uninteresting</p><p>(00:07:47):</p><p>and be like,</p><p>(00:07:48):</p><p>oh man,</p><p>(00:07:49):</p><p>I’m stuck with this person for another 45 minutes.</p><p>(00:07:50):</p><p>Okay,</p><p>(00:07:51):</p><p>what are the three conversation starters that I kind of think might get them to do</p><p>(00:07:54):</p><p>something?</p><p>(00:07:55):</p><p>With you, it’s the opposite.</p><p>(00:07:56):</p><p>I come up with,</p><p>(00:07:57):</p><p>as you’re talking,</p><p>(00:07:58):</p><p>I think of three different routes we can go on that conversation.</p><p>(00:08:02):</p><p>Want to see my tattoo?</p><p>(00:08:18):</p><p>It’s really just Chris looking for an opportunity to show me his tattoos.</p><p>(00:08:21):</p><p>That’s what this whole podcast is about.</p><p>(00:08:23):</p><p>So I knew we could at least fill up 45 minutes,</p><p>(00:08:25):</p><p>but I have gone into lunch appointments before with you.</p><p>(00:08:28):</p><p>Appointments.</p><p>(00:08:28):</p><p>Appointments.</p><p>(00:08:29):</p><p>Yeah, because I’m your client.</p><p>(00:08:31):</p><p>So there are appointments now.</p><p>(00:08:32):</p><p>It used to be we would get lunch as friends.</p><p>(00:08:34):</p><p>Yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:08:34):</p><p>It used to be friends.</p><p>(00:08:35):</p><p>Now it’s all transactional.</p><p>(00:08:37):</p><p>Business expense.</p><p>(00:08:38):</p><p>So now when I do my business meetings with you, like any good...</p><p>(00:08:42):</p><p>All right so here’s my list though all right so you were this is what I know about</p><p>(00:08:45):</p><p>you based off of what I wrote down</p><p>(00:09:10):</p><p>Our typewriter.</p><p>(00:09:11):</p><p>You were born in Japan.</p><p>(00:09:12):</p><p>That’s right.</p><p>(00:09:13):</p><p>Wow.</p><p>(00:09:13):</p><p>You grew up in Hawaii.</p><p>(00:09:14):</p><p>That’s right.</p><p>(00:09:15):</p><p>Your dad was a chaplain for some military something or other.</p><p>(00:09:18):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:09:18):</p><p>Not a chaplain.</p><p>(00:09:20):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:09:21):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:09:21):</p><p>Here’s where you might.</p><p>(00:09:22):</p><p>So my dad is actually a Vietnamese linguist.</p><p>(00:09:24):</p><p>He had a mustache.</p><p>(00:09:25):</p><p>He did have a mustache.</p><p>(00:09:26):</p><p>I remember that part.</p><p>(00:09:27):</p><p>Vietnamese linguist in the military, in the air force.</p><p>(00:09:30):</p><p>And his job was searching for remains in the Vietnam War.</p><p>(00:09:36):</p><p>I just thought he was some guy that did a bunch of boring church services.</p><p>(00:09:39):</p><p>No.</p><p>(00:09:40):</p><p>Where you might be confused.</p><p>(00:09:41):</p><p>He’s an elder now in a church.</p><p>(00:09:44):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:09:44):</p><p>He got boring.</p><p>(00:09:45):</p><p>Yeah, yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:09:46):</p><p>But he was cool.</p><p>(00:09:48):</p><p>My dad was like literal Indiana Jones.</p><p>(00:09:51):</p><p>Like he went to the jungles of Vietnam and Thailand.</p><p>(00:09:55):</p><p>He had like a machete.</p><p>(00:09:56):</p><p>And when you’re doing this job,</p><p>(00:09:58):</p><p>he’s a military guy,</p><p>(00:09:59):</p><p>but he’s not allowed to wear military uniforms,</p><p>(00:10:01):</p><p>so he’s wearing a boonie hat and a button-up unbuttoned.</p><p>(00:10:07):</p><p>It’s kind of cool.</p><p>(00:10:08):</p><p>Wait, button-up unbuttoned?</p><p>(00:10:09):</p><p>Describe that.</p><p>(00:10:10):</p><p>It’s like Indiana Jones.</p><p>(00:10:12):</p><p>It’s hot outside, and he has to unbutton a couple.</p><p>(00:10:16):</p><p>I see.</p><p>(00:10:16):</p><p>He was a really, really cool dad.</p><p>(00:10:19):</p><p>And I have all these, I don’t know, just imaginative...</p><p>(00:10:25):</p><p>We did go to a church where we had to bring a machete and that’s why you in the</p><p>(00:10:30):</p><p>jungle vacation Bible schools in Hawaii are a lot different that’s right we just</p><p>(00:10:34):</p><p>did really really</p><p>(00:10:59):</p><p>Okay, so that brings us to point number three on my list.</p><p>(00:11:04):</p><p>You grew up in Hawaii.</p><p>(00:11:05):</p><p>Your dad was not a chaplain.</p><p>(00:11:06):</p><p>You had something way more interesting that I already forgot.</p><p>(00:11:09):</p><p>You lived in Maryland for a while?</p><p>(00:11:10):</p><p>I did.</p><p>(00:11:12):</p><p>Two tours in Maryland.</p><p>(00:11:13):</p><p>Okay, two tours.</p><p>(00:11:15):</p><p>Yeah, I mean, it’s like you get stationed.</p><p>(00:11:17):</p><p>And my dad...</p><p>(00:11:19):</p><p>Okay, you should really interview my dad.</p><p>(00:11:20):</p><p>He’s more interesting.</p><p>(00:11:21):</p><p>We’ll do that next.</p><p>(00:11:22):</p><p>When we lived in Hawaii...</p><p>(00:11:24):</p><p>That’s when my dad would go and do the Vietnamese linguist thing over in Vietnam.</p><p>(00:11:29):</p><p>He’d take these trips.</p><p>(00:11:30):</p><p>In Maryland, he worked for the National Security Agency.</p><p>(00:11:33):</p><p>So he was the guy that was stealing everyone’s phone conversation post 9-11.</p><p>(00:11:37):</p><p>Yeah, basically.</p><p>(00:11:40):</p><p>I honestly didn’t know that was a thing before that broke with the Edward Snowden</p><p>(00:11:44):</p><p>and everything.</p><p>(00:11:44):</p><p>So the NSA has been stealing our information for longer than I thought.</p><p>(00:11:47):</p><p>Oh, yeah.</p><p>(00:11:47):</p><p>Well, so here’s the crazy thing.</p><p>(00:11:49):</p><p>When I was a kid,</p><p>(00:11:51):</p><p>and when we were living in Maryland,</p><p>(00:11:52):</p><p>it was in the 90s,</p><p>(00:11:53):</p><p>both times,</p><p>(00:11:54):</p><p>like early 90s and then late 90s,</p><p>(00:11:56):</p><p>and he used to always say,</p><p>(00:11:58):</p><p>hey,</p><p>(00:11:58):</p><p>if I told you,</p><p>(00:11:59):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(00:12:00):</p><p>what I did for a living,</p><p>(00:12:01):</p><p>I’d have to kill you.</p><p>(00:12:02):</p><p>He loved saying that.</p><p>(00:12:03):</p><p>Like, whether that was true.</p><p>(00:12:04):</p><p>He sounds like a green dad.</p><p>(00:12:05):</p><p>Yeah, yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:12:06):</p><p>But it just filled you with, like, one word.</p><p>(00:12:08):</p><p>Dread and terror.</p><p>(00:12:09):</p><p>Yeah, it was like, what?</p><p>(00:12:11):</p><p>If he accidentally did, would he just kill us?</p><p>(00:12:13):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:12:14):</p><p>He had a hard day at work and said, man, I get tired of spying on Fidel today.</p><p>(00:12:18):</p><p>He’s like, ah, s**t, Ben’s here.</p><p>(00:12:21):</p><p>Well, the funny thing is all that stuff, though, that he was doing is all declassified.</p><p>(00:12:25):</p><p>Now, he was still sticking to this line of, oh, I can’t tell you, can’t tell you.</p><p>(00:12:29):</p><p>Then one day,</p><p>(00:12:31):</p><p>like a few years ago I got him to tell me and I even recorded it because again he</p><p>(00:12:36):</p><p>can talk about it and it’s the craziest thing yeah again this is why he should be</p><p>(00:12:40):</p><p>on the podcast does he even want to talk about it like is he like is it just</p><p>(00:12:42):</p><p>something that’s so uninteresting to him no it’s I think he’s actually he’s quite</p><p>(00:12:47):</p><p>fascinated by the whole thing but basically think of this</p><p>(00:12:51):</p><p>When we left Vietnam, the Vietnam War.</p><p>(00:12:53):</p><p>We as in?</p><p>(00:12:54):</p><p>The Americans.</p><p>(00:12:55):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:12:55):</p><p>Me and you.</p><p>(00:12:56):</p><p>When we lost.</p><p>(00:12:57):</p><p>When we went.</p><p>(00:12:57):</p><p>When you and I lost the Vietnam War.</p><p>(00:12:58):</p><p>I didn’t know we went there.</p><p>(00:13:01):</p><p>We left all of this equipment over there.</p><p>(00:13:03):</p><p>Just like we did with Afghanistan a few years back.</p><p>(00:13:06):</p><p>Whenever we leave somewhere.</p><p>(00:13:07):</p><p>You know way more about wars than I do.</p><p>(00:13:09):</p><p>Brilliant war.</p><p>(00:13:10):</p><p>That’s why I’m interested.</p><p>(00:13:11):</p><p>But basically we left all of this communication equipment and all of our stuff there.</p><p>(00:13:15):</p><p>We just left.</p><p>(00:13:17):</p><p>But part of it is kind of a strategic thing, because we know how to access all that stuff.</p><p>(00:13:21):</p><p>So basically, we’ve been spying.</p><p>(00:13:23):</p><p>After the war, we were actually spying on the Vietnamese using their own equipment.</p><p>(00:13:29):</p><p>And my dad was part of that.</p><p>(00:13:30):</p><p>He was translating stuff that they’re saying, because this was before ChatGPT or whatever.</p><p>(00:13:33):</p><p>Were they saying, hey, what is this thing?</p><p>(00:13:35):</p><p>How does it work?</p><p>(00:13:41):</p><p>I think I can share this, but if not, my dad might kill me once this goes live.</p><p>(00:13:48):</p><p>Good, because I’m running out of questions for you already.</p><p>(00:13:54):</p><p>I will not be a repeat guest.</p><p>(00:13:55):</p><p>Not at all.</p><p>(00:13:57):</p><p>Okay, well we’re off to a good start.</p><p>(00:13:58):</p><p>You went back to Hawaii.</p><p>(00:14:00):</p><p>Yep.</p><p>(00:14:02):</p><p>This is where I get sketchy because this is a story you told me and I didn’t really</p><p>(00:14:06):</p><p>understand all the nuances of it.</p><p>(00:14:08):</p><p>You’re writing this all down.</p><p>(00:14:09):</p><p>Yeah, well I can’t write it down.</p><p>(00:14:10):</p><p>I was trying to be a good friend and listen to you, but I mean a good business partner.</p><p>(00:14:14):</p><p>You fell in love with a girl and she moved away, right?</p><p>(00:14:18):</p><p>Yes.</p><p>(00:14:18):</p><p>And you thought she was the one.</p><p>(00:14:21):</p><p>It wasn’t just like</p><p>(00:14:23):</p><p>You legitimately thought you were going to marry her.</p><p>(00:14:26):</p><p>I was 12 and she was 9 and I have a song called 12 and 9.</p><p>(00:14:29):</p><p>By my favorite band.</p><p>(00:14:30):</p><p>You might remember this.</p><p>(00:14:35):</p><p>You down.</p><p>(00:14:36):</p><p>Yeah, so we were kids together.</p><p>(00:14:38):</p><p>We grew up.</p><p>(00:14:38):</p><p>We were both homeschool Christian families.</p><p>(00:14:42):</p><p>We went to the same church.</p><p>(00:14:43):</p><p>We had all this stuff in common.</p><p>(00:14:45):</p><p>And it was just like, yeah, young love kind of a thing.</p><p>(00:14:48):</p><p>But it just never really went away.</p><p>(00:14:50):</p><p>And then it get to a point where I don’t even really know her,</p><p>(00:14:54):</p><p>but it’s just built up in my head.</p><p>(00:14:56):</p><p>You know what I mean?</p><p>(00:14:57):</p><p>You just feel like you have to marry this person.</p><p>(00:15:00):</p><p>I’m a very loyal person, and it just like...</p><p>(00:15:02):</p><p>It felt like I had to, kind of.</p><p>(00:15:06):</p><p>It felt like I was already married to her.</p><p>(00:15:07):</p><p>It was fate, inevitable.</p><p>(00:15:09):</p><p>We never even held hands or anything, but I just feel like I have to.</p><p>(00:15:14):</p><p>This is the one.</p><p>(00:15:16):</p><p>She moves away, and then what’s the question?</p><p>(00:15:20):</p><p>Then what happens?</p><p>(00:15:23):</p><p>My next part was found her after you moved back to the continental U.S.,</p><p>(00:15:28):</p><p>asked her parents for a blessing to court or date,</p><p>(00:15:30):</p><p>maybe marry one day,</p><p>(00:15:31):</p><p>and your dad shot you down.</p><p>(00:15:34):</p><p>Her dad shot me down.</p><p>(00:15:35):</p><p>What happened was,</p><p>(00:15:39):</p><p>their family retired to Virginia,</p><p>(00:15:41):</p><p>and I ended up in Nebraska,</p><p>(00:15:43):</p><p>finished up some school.</p><p>(00:15:45):</p><p>And here I am, literally like 20 years old, finishing up community college.</p><p>(00:15:50):</p><p>When was the last time you saw her?</p><p>(00:15:52):</p><p>Or been in communication with her?</p><p>(00:15:54):</p><p>Like, was it a long-distance thing at that point?</p><p>(00:15:55):</p><p>Or just... Oh, yeah.</p><p>(00:15:56):</p><p>So they had been in Virginia for a while, and I had been in Nebraska and stuff.</p><p>(00:15:59):</p><p>And so...</p><p>(00:16:00):</p><p>But you’re still in contact.</p><p>(00:16:01):</p><p>Still in contact.</p><p>(00:16:02):</p><p>I was driving out there and seeing her and her family.</p><p>(00:16:05):</p><p>I flew out there at least once.</p><p>(00:16:10):</p><p>And anyways, I...</p><p>(00:16:13):</p><p>Up to this point, we’ve been together, quote unquote, for like since I was 12.</p><p>(00:16:19):</p><p>And we’re not an official relationship because we don’t really believe in that.</p><p>(00:16:22):</p><p>We kissed dating goodbye.</p><p>(00:16:23):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(00:16:24):</p><p>Chris.</p><p>(00:16:25):</p><p>As I did as well.</p><p>(00:16:26):</p><p>And this is even technically a sanctioned like courtship,</p><p>(00:16:29):</p><p>but it’s just like this thing that Meg and I joke about it.</p><p>(00:16:32):</p><p>You’re saving yourself for marriage that may never happen because you can’t tell</p><p>(00:16:35):</p><p>somebody you like them.</p><p>(00:16:36):</p><p>So, I mean, it’s like pluses and minuses.</p><p>(00:16:39):</p><p>I mean, the plus, I guess, is that like</p><p>(00:16:42):</p><p>Because it was so unofficial and restricted, we don’t really have any regrets, I guess.</p><p>(00:16:48):</p><p>We never did anything, but we also didn’t really get to know each other.</p><p>(00:16:51):</p><p>So when her dad finally said,</p><p>(00:16:53):</p><p>hey,</p><p>(00:16:54):</p><p>don’t bother coming out here again,</p><p>(00:16:55):</p><p>because I was planning one last trip to see if we could make this work,</p><p>(00:16:59):</p><p>and he was like,</p><p>(00:17:00):</p><p>the thing he said was,</p><p>(00:17:01):</p><p>save the gas,</p><p>(00:17:02):</p><p>save the gas.</p><p>(00:17:04):</p><p>And I actually received it pretty well.</p><p>(00:17:06):</p><p>At that point, I had kind of gotten to the point where I’m like,</p><p>(00:17:09):</p><p>I don’t know if this is the right way.</p><p>(00:17:12):</p><p>I didn’t really know her.</p><p>(00:17:13):</p><p>I felt like we had been so...</p><p>(00:17:17):</p><p>Isolated from one another and we’d grown into different people.</p><p>(00:17:21):</p><p>It turns out she liked horses more than she liked people and she was living out in</p><p>(00:17:26):</p><p>the country and she ended up marrying this country doctor widower guy that was like</p><p>(00:17:31):</p><p>her dad’s age.</p><p>(00:17:32):</p><p>Really into horses.</p><p>(00:17:33):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(00:17:34):</p><p>they have horses I think and it’s a whole different lifestyle and I was this</p><p>(00:17:38):</p><p>graphic designer in the big city of Omaha and so it never would have worked.</p><p>(00:17:42):</p><p>Absolutely.</p><p>(00:17:43):</p><p>City folk just don’t understand them bumpkins us Nebraskans</p><p>(00:17:48):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(00:17:49):</p><p>but I mean,</p><p>(00:17:49):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:17:50):</p><p>on the more spiritual side of it all,</p><p>(00:17:52):</p><p>now,</p><p>(00:17:53):</p><p>you’ll probably laugh at this,</p><p>(00:17:54):</p><p>but I listened to a Mark Driscoll sermon when I was driving back.</p><p>(00:17:58):</p><p>At the time, that was a good thing to do, but now we know better.</p><p>(00:18:02):</p><p>Well, it’s funny, because I wasn’t going to, like, an Acts 29 church or anything.</p><p>(00:18:06):</p><p>I was going to a really conservative,</p><p>(00:18:07):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:18:07):</p><p>Presbyterian church,</p><p>(00:18:08):</p><p>and so listening to Mark Driscoll was edgy.</p><p>(00:18:09):</p><p>You didn’t get yelled at a lot.</p><p>(00:18:10):</p><p>Yeah, you didn’t get yelled at a lot yet.</p><p>(00:18:11):</p><p>I needed to.</p><p>(00:18:12):</p><p>So, like, I actually really, it was, like, a guilty pleasure listening to Mark Driscoll.</p><p>(00:18:15):</p><p>Oh, I’m sure.</p><p>(00:18:16):</p><p>But he basically was saying— That’s what he was going for, I think.</p><p>(00:18:18):</p><p>Oh yeah, for sure.</p><p>(00:18:19):</p><p>I mean, that Song of Solomon sermon series was...</p><p>(00:18:22):</p><p>I listened to all of that.</p><p>(00:18:24):</p><p>I learned a lot.</p><p>(00:18:26):</p><p>Didn’t we all?</p><p>(00:18:28):</p><p>Us kids at Kiss Dating Goodbye, now we have a pastor writing a book about anal sex.</p><p>(00:18:32):</p><p>Yeah, there you go.</p><p>(00:18:33):</p><p>So anyways,</p><p>(00:18:34):</p><p>when I was driving back from her family’s property in Virginia for the last time,</p><p>(00:18:40):</p><p>what ended up being the last time,</p><p>(00:18:44):</p><p>I turned on this sermon,</p><p>(00:18:46):</p><p>and he was just talking about...</p><p>(00:18:48):</p><p>Basically not making an idol out of things and being able to...</p><p>(00:18:51):</p><p>You know it’s not an idol in your life if you can go either way.</p><p>(00:18:54):</p><p>No matter what the decision is, you’re happy to go either way.</p><p>(00:18:59):</p><p>I did start really thinking about that and praying about that and being like, I need to...</p><p>(00:19:04):</p><p>It’s at a point right now where if this falls apart, I’m devastated.</p><p>(00:19:08):</p><p>I was like, this is ridiculous.</p><p>(00:19:09):</p><p>I don’t even know this person.</p><p>(00:19:11):</p><p>I had to let go of her.</p><p>(00:19:12):</p><p>When that call came, I was able to...</p><p>(00:19:16):</p><p>Yeah, I didn’t even shed a tear.</p><p>(00:19:17):</p><p>It was just like, alright, this is confirmation.</p><p>(00:19:19):</p><p>Move on.</p><p>(00:19:20):</p><p>And at that same time,</p><p>(00:19:23):</p><p>the woman I’m currently married to,</p><p>(00:19:25):</p><p>I already knew her and was getting to know her family.</p><p>(00:19:29):</p><p>So it was kind of like, a lot of people looked like a really quick</p><p>(00:19:32):</p><p>uh you know kind of what do you call that a rebound yeah relationship but really</p><p>(00:19:36):</p><p>like I had known her for many years as like a friend and was a part of her church</p><p>(00:19:42):</p><p>and a lot of stuff like that and so it looked like a quick rebound but really like</p><p>(00:19:46):</p><p>it wasn’t you know but I mean it sounds like you Meg your wife and this other this</p><p>(00:19:54):</p><p>horse horse gal sounds</p><p>(00:19:55):</p><p>It sounds like you’re basically like at the same you knew that as much about both</p><p>(00:19:58):</p><p>of them like the same about both of them yeah basically I feel like it wasn’t that</p><p>(00:20:02):</p><p>different the way you describe it at least think about this like in this like kind</p><p>(00:20:06):</p><p>of like ultra kind of conservative more restrictive you know whatever purity</p><p>(00:20:12):</p><p>culture buzzwords kind of culture um I love purity culture that’s that’s the name</p><p>(00:20:18):</p><p>of this podcast you seem like the type</p><p>(00:20:21):</p><p>You got all this cherub face energy Yeah It worked for me Mr.</p><p>(00:20:26):</p><p>Crud I like know Josh Harris now and I know he’s rejected it all but it’s like dude</p><p>(00:20:31):</p><p>it worked for me thanks for the book</p><p>(00:20:34):</p><p>Can you get him on the path?</p><p>(00:20:35):</p><p>So this is, we need to get Josh Harris and your dad.</p><p>(00:20:37):</p><p>That’s why you brought me here to, you gave me a couple drinks.</p><p>(00:20:40):</p><p>So part three, you’ve met Josh Harris and you’re willing to introduce him to me.</p><p>(00:20:44):</p><p>Yeah, that’d probably be a more interesting podcast.</p><p>(00:20:46):</p><p>But no, so basically like- You only guessed one.</p><p>(00:20:49):</p><p>When you’re not,</p><p>(00:20:49):</p><p>and I even think about this now,</p><p>(00:20:51):</p><p>like with my own kids as they get to that age,</p><p>(00:20:53):</p><p>like trying to just stay-</p><p>(00:20:56):</p><p>By C.S.</p><p>(00:20:56):</p><p>Beaty</p><p>(00:21:20):</p><p>I knew Megan as just like a girl that went to church and she was like hanging out</p><p>(00:21:23):</p><p>in groups and she was a friend I was not interested in her that way at all because</p><p>(00:21:26):</p><p>to be honest I thought one of my best friends was going to probably marry her</p><p>(00:21:29):</p><p>because he was kind of crazy about her and so and then came Ben and then yeah and</p><p>(00:21:34):</p><p>then he he found someone else and things fell apart with this other girl and it all</p><p>(00:21:38):</p><p>just kind of worked out but but I had all that time to just kind of see her as a</p><p>(00:21:42):</p><p>person you know and so then when you know</p><p>(00:21:45):</p><p>The romance could happen.</p><p>(00:21:48):</p><p>It just happened.</p><p>(00:21:49):</p><p>Did you feel like you were allowed to have romance, though?</p><p>(00:21:51):</p><p>Or even just be interested in someone?</p><p>(00:21:54):</p><p>I definitely felt like I could be interested because it was a very public,</p><p>(00:21:58):</p><p>unofficial relationship.</p><p>(00:22:01):</p><p>It was weird.</p><p>(00:22:02):</p><p>Exclusive, in a sense.</p><p>(00:22:03):</p><p>It was.</p><p>(00:22:04):</p><p>Everyone knew about it.</p><p>(00:22:05):</p><p>It was so understood.</p><p>(00:22:07):</p><p>Everyone knew we were an item, but it was unofficial.</p><p>(00:22:10):</p><p>So that’s the tricky part.</p><p>(00:22:11):</p><p>I don’t know what to really do with that.</p><p>(00:22:14):</p><p>Everyone was so afraid to put a label on it because they felt like,</p><p>(00:22:18):</p><p>well,</p><p>(00:22:18):</p><p>if you put a label on it,</p><p>(00:22:19):</p><p>then it’s official,</p><p>(00:22:20):</p><p>you’re getting married.</p><p>(00:22:21):</p><p>There was no real</p><p>(00:22:23):</p><p>We didn’t know what to do in that culture.</p><p>(00:22:26):</p><p>We didn’t know what to do with a relationship that wasn’t basically engagement or marriage.</p><p>(00:22:34):</p><p>And so he felt kind of betrothed, I guess.</p><p>(00:22:37):</p><p>Kind of like the old Jewish betrothal kind of feeling, I guess.</p><p>(00:22:42):</p><p>Where it’s kind of like, someday I’m going to marry so-and-so.</p><p>(00:22:45):</p><p>But until that time, enjoy your blue balls.</p><p>(00:22:47):</p><p>Exactly.</p><p>(00:22:48):</p><p>So that’s basically where I was.</p><p>(00:22:49):</p><p>All right, next part.</p><p>(00:22:52):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:22:53):</p><p>I feel like we could do a whole podcast episode on this because I can’t help but</p><p>(00:22:58):</p><p>put your experience on top of mine and compare and contrast because in some sense I</p><p>(00:23:03):</p><p>can totally identify with everything but I felt I was afraid to even talk to a girl</p><p>(00:23:08):</p><p>so that whole idea of being even it being understood that you knew somebody that</p><p>(00:23:12):</p><p>was exclusive even though if it wasn’t a label even that to me it wasn’t even so it</p><p>(00:23:20):</p><p>wasn’t allowed I was just terrified of it</p><p>(00:23:22):</p><p>By C.S.</p><p>(00:23:22):</p><p>Beaty</p><p>(00:23:46):</p><p>I don’t think I could come back from it.</p><p>(00:23:48):</p><p>I had such a fear of that.</p><p>(00:23:50):</p><p>We had no category for asking girls out.</p><p>(00:23:52):</p><p>That’s true.</p><p>(00:23:54):</p><p>I know what you mean though.</p><p>(00:23:55):</p><p>I’m trying to think back.</p><p>(00:23:58):</p><p>I did have a lot of friends that were girls.</p><p>(00:24:03):</p><p>I had a lot of...</p><p>(00:24:04):</p><p>I think because no one was dating, no one was even really courting or anything.</p><p>(00:24:09):</p><p>My older brother...</p><p>(00:24:11):</p><p>The first courtship I ever heard of courted my best friend’s big sister and they were married.</p><p>(00:24:20):</p><p>They were both 19.</p><p>(00:24:21):</p><p>They were both married.</p><p>(00:24:22):</p><p>They’re still married.</p><p>(00:24:23):</p><p>They’ve got six kids.</p><p>(00:24:24):</p><p>They live in the Seattle area.</p><p>(00:24:30):</p><p>Because there was no real official thing unless you’re ready to get married.</p><p>(00:24:35):</p><p>We would say things like</p><p>(00:24:38):</p><p>Don’t shop until you’re ready to buy.</p><p>(00:24:39):</p><p>Don’t stir up love before it pleases.</p><p>(00:24:41):</p><p>I think that’s from Song of Solomon.</p><p>(00:24:43):</p><p>That was kind of the mindset.</p><p>(00:24:44):</p><p>It’s been a while since I’ve listened to that sermon series.</p><p>(00:24:47):</p><p>Mark Driscoll, he’s been cancelled a few times since then.</p><p>(00:24:51):</p><p>He’s still going strong.</p><p>(00:24:53):</p><p>Yeah, which one?</p><p>(00:24:56):</p><p>But anyway, can you even find that old stuff?</p><p>(00:24:58):</p><p>Does it exist somewhere?</p><p>(00:24:59):</p><p>I’m sure somebody has it somewhere.</p><p>(00:25:00):</p><p>Some creepy guy’s got that in his basement.</p><p>(00:25:02):</p><p>Probably down here somewhere.</p><p>(00:25:03):</p><p>Oh, I’ve got it all, yeah.</p><p>(00:25:04):</p><p>You’ve got it all?</p><p>(00:25:05):</p><p>I bet I have it on an iPod still.</p><p>(00:25:07):</p><p>Yeah, no kidding.</p><p>(00:25:08):</p><p>But yeah, basically, I don’t know.</p><p>(00:25:12):</p><p>Because there wasn’t really any real relationship status you could kind of hope</p><p>(00:25:17):</p><p>for,</p><p>(00:25:17):</p><p>it was all very...</p><p>(00:25:20):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:25:20):</p><p>We could just kind of be friends, too, and it was kind of cool.</p><p>(00:25:23):</p><p>Except for,</p><p>(00:25:24):</p><p>I mean,</p><p>(00:25:24):</p><p>I don’t know,</p><p>(00:25:24):</p><p>for me and that other girl,</p><p>(00:25:26):</p><p>we just kind of thought,</p><p>(00:25:29):</p><p>without expressing it to one another,</p><p>(00:25:31):</p><p>that someday we’d be married.</p><p>(00:25:32):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:25:33):</p><p>But the culture or the community kind of reinforces some of those things, too.</p><p>(00:25:37):</p><p>Oh, for sure.</p><p>(00:25:37):</p><p>You know what I mean?</p><p>(00:25:38):</p><p>Absolutely.</p><p>(00:25:39):</p><p>I look back on it and it’s like why did I fall so head over heels for her and part</p><p>(00:25:44):</p><p>of it was because I overheard other people talking about us and it made me feel</p><p>(00:25:47):</p><p>good it’d be like oh man you see those two what a cute couple and someday and you</p><p>(00:25:52):</p><p>know we were both into music and that can also help she wrote songs I wrote songs</p><p>(00:25:57):</p><p>and that just like it kind of just fit this storybook image you know in my head and</p><p>(00:26:04):</p><p>so I don’t know like I said purity culture worked great for me um</p><p>(00:26:10):</p><p>That’s the name of my book.</p><p>(00:26:11):</p><p>Our next guest would just talk to myself and read my own book out loud.</p><p>(00:26:16):</p><p>Actually, just listen to my audio book and you can hear my take on that or my response.</p><p>(00:26:24):</p><p>Next question.</p><p>(00:26:24):</p><p>Okay, next question.</p><p>(00:26:25):</p><p>We’re 25 minutes in.</p><p>(00:26:27):</p><p>We’ve covered the Vietnam War.</p><p>(00:26:29):</p><p>We’re doing this podcast.</p><p>(00:26:31):</p><p>All right, so I put at some point got married to someone else.</p><p>(00:26:35):</p><p>So you skipped ahead a little bit.</p><p>(00:26:37):</p><p>Meg.</p><p>(00:26:37):</p><p>Meg.</p><p>(00:26:38):</p><p>Who is now the mother of a lot of kids.</p><p>(00:26:41):</p><p>Too many to count.</p><p>(00:26:42):</p><p>Yeah, we’ve got five kiddos.</p><p>(00:26:44):</p><p>Rounding up to ten.</p><p>(00:26:45):</p><p>That’s right.</p><p>(00:26:45):</p><p>And we have been married for 16 years as of last week.</p><p>(00:26:50):</p><p>So, yeah, it’s going great.</p><p>(00:26:53):</p><p>It’s awesome.</p><p>(00:26:54):</p><p>That is great.</p><p>(00:26:54):</p><p>That is great to hear.</p><p>(00:26:56):</p><p>And I don’t believe you.</p><p>(00:26:58):</p><p>You mentioned this a little bit.</p><p>(00:27:01):</p><p>So you’re a designer.</p><p>(00:27:03):</p><p>That’s right.</p><p>(00:27:04):</p><p>Graphic designer, branding designer.</p><p>(00:27:07):</p><p>So you started doing that.</p><p>(00:27:09):</p><p>Was it Metro Community College?</p><p>(00:27:10):</p><p>Did the program there?</p><p>(00:27:12):</p><p>How did this all come about?</p><p>(00:27:13):</p><p>Yeah, yeah.</p><p>(00:27:14):</p><p>So that...</p><p>(00:27:15):</p><p>Good question, Chris.</p><p>(00:27:17):</p><p>Thank you.</p><p>(00:27:17):</p><p>I’ve been told I’m good at this.</p><p>(00:27:19):</p><p>You are good at this.</p><p>(00:27:19):</p><p>Wow.</p><p>(00:27:20):</p><p>I feel so seen and heard by you.</p><p>(00:27:23):</p><p>I’m not listening, but I can see you.</p><p>(00:27:26):</p><p>I was homeschooled all the way through.</p><p>(00:27:29):</p><p>Well, all the way until I started going to college early.</p><p>(00:27:32):</p><p>So that’s kind of the thing with homeschoolers,</p><p>(00:27:34):</p><p>the really smart ones,</p><p>(00:27:36):</p><p>or the ones whose parents run out of patience and things for them to do at home.</p><p>(00:27:40):</p><p>When they’re about 15 or 16 they’ll like get early enrollment into a community</p><p>(00:27:44):</p><p>college or take the GED I actually took the GED when I was 16 and started going to</p><p>(00:27:50):</p><p>take various classes at various community colleges in Hawaii so there was one</p><p>(00:27:56):</p><p>called Windward Community College on the Windward side of Oahu</p><p>(00:28:01):</p><p>The main one was Leeward Community College on the Leeward side of the island.</p><p>(00:28:05):</p><p>They are so good at naming.</p><p>(00:28:07):</p><p>It’s kind of lame.</p><p>(00:28:09):</p><p>But it’s funny.</p><p>(00:28:10):</p><p>I was training to be a classical pianist.</p><p>(00:28:15):</p><p>I need to pronounce that better.</p><p>(00:28:19):</p><p>What is a classical pianist?</p><p>(00:28:22):</p><p>Pianist.</p><p>(00:28:23):</p><p>Pianist.</p><p>(00:28:23):</p><p>I think I said that right.</p><p>(00:28:26):</p><p>And I was convinced that I was, yeah, music was where it was at.</p><p>(00:28:30):</p><p>And so I started just taking electives of like ear training,</p><p>(00:28:35):</p><p>of theory,</p><p>(00:28:36):</p><p>music theory,</p><p>(00:28:38):</p><p>some classical guitar.</p><p>(00:28:40):</p><p>Lots of just music-related classes.</p><p>(00:28:43):</p><p>And I just fell into, accidentally fell into the world of graphic design.</p><p>(00:28:49):</p><p>My dad’s a military guy.</p><p>(00:28:51):</p><p>Everyone I knew was basically a military guy or worked on garage doors.</p><p>(00:28:54):</p><p>There was no category.</p><p>(00:28:57):</p><p>I was creative.</p><p>(00:28:58):</p><p>I always liked to draw.</p><p>(00:28:59):</p><p>I didn’t know there were so many garages in Hawaii.</p><p>(00:29:03):</p><p>More than you might think.</p><p>(00:29:04):</p><p>I didn’t have one, but some rich people have them, I guess.</p><p>(00:29:08):</p><p>But</p><p>(00:29:09):</p><p>I had no category.</p><p>(00:29:10):</p><p>I didn’t even think about how everything that you see.</p><p>(00:29:13):</p><p>I’m looking down and seeing all of these.</p><p>(00:29:15):</p><p>If only we had a video.</p><p>(00:29:16):</p><p>Yeah, if only we had a video.</p><p>(00:29:17):</p><p>All of these coasters in front of me and cool bottle designs you have up in your</p><p>(00:29:25):</p><p>beautiful bar here.</p><p>(00:29:27):</p><p>I never even thought that someone had to design all this stuff.</p><p>(00:29:29):</p><p>Someone had to draw all this stuff.</p><p>(00:29:32):</p><p>And...</p><p>(00:29:33):</p><p>I stumbled into it.</p><p>(00:29:34):</p><p>Literally,</p><p>(00:29:36):</p><p>this gal at my church asked me,</p><p>(00:29:39):</p><p>she said,</p><p>(00:29:40):</p><p>hey,</p><p>(00:29:40):</p><p>do you know anybody in the University of Hawaii school system that has an artistic</p><p>(00:29:48):</p><p>eye?</p><p>(00:29:48):</p><p>That’s what she said.</p><p>(00:29:49):</p><p>And I was like, well, that’s a very specific question.</p><p>(00:29:51):</p><p>It’s a weird way of asking that.</p><p>(00:29:53):</p><p>An artistic eye.</p><p>(00:29:55):</p><p>I know somebody has an astigmatism.</p><p>(00:30:10):</p><p>They were working for this research division of the University of Hawaii called the</p><p>(00:30:15):</p><p>Hawaii Coral Reef Initiative.</p><p>(00:30:18):</p><p>Not made up, but basically they helped raise money for scientists studying the coral reef.</p><p>(00:30:24):</p><p>And they needed someone to help them with publications about coral reef health.</p><p>(00:30:30):</p><p>How do we make this not boring?</p><p>(00:30:32):</p><p>Yeah, exactly.</p><p>(00:30:33):</p><p>And so she’s like,</p><p>(00:30:34):</p><p>do you know anybody in the University of Hawaii system who has an artistic eye?</p><p>(00:30:38):</p><p>That’s how she’s</p><p>(00:30:39):</p><p>I’ll let you know if someone comes to mind and then it was like literally three</p><p>(00:30:43):</p><p>days later I go wait a second</p><p>(00:30:46):</p><p>I go to Leeward Community College,</p><p>(00:30:49):</p><p>which is technically a part of the University of Hawaii system.</p><p>(00:30:53):</p><p>It’s not the University of Hawaii main campus, but it’s all part of the same system.</p><p>(00:30:58):</p><p>And I have an artistic eye.</p><p>(00:31:00):</p><p>Now,</p><p>(00:31:00):</p><p>if she had said,</p><p>(00:31:01):</p><p>who is a graphic designer or knows how to use Photoshop or something like that,</p><p>(00:31:05):</p><p>I would have no clue because I was not aware of that profession.</p><p>(00:31:09):</p><p>I’d never used an Adobe product like Photoshop or Illustrator, anything like that.</p><p>(00:31:14):</p><p>But she said artistic eye and I loved at that time I was doing a lot of drawing</p><p>(00:31:18):</p><p>caricatures of my friends so I just drew a lot for fun in between music classes and</p><p>(00:31:23):</p><p>stuff and piano lessons and things that I thought were like what I was going to do</p><p>(00:31:27):</p><p>and so a few days later I like reached out and I’m like I think that’s me</p><p>(00:31:33):</p><p>And so I go down to my first and one of my only job interviews ever,</p><p>(00:31:37):</p><p>which wasn’t really a job interview.</p><p>(00:31:38):</p><p>They just gave me the job because it was a student help job.</p><p>(00:31:42):</p><p>You didn’t get paid.</p><p>(00:31:44):</p><p>Barely.</p><p>(00:31:44):</p><p>It was a very small amount of pay, very few hours a week.</p><p>(00:31:49):</p><p>And they paid for me to learn all of the programs.</p><p>(00:31:54):</p><p>I took a non-credit Photoshop class,</p><p>(00:31:56):</p><p>a non-credit Illustrator class,</p><p>(00:31:58):</p><p>a non-credit,</p><p>(00:32:00):</p><p>it was before InDesign,</p><p>(00:32:02):</p><p>it was called PageMaker,</p><p>(00:32:03):</p><p>Adobe PageMaker.</p><p>(00:32:05):</p><p>And I got introduced to this crazy world that everything we see</p><p>(00:32:10):</p><p>is like designed and made and people will pay for you to do this stuff and logos</p><p>(00:32:15):</p><p>and it was like overwhelming because like I did have this artistic eye and so</p><p>(00:32:21):</p><p>immediately I just started shifting all of my studies towards the visual arts and I</p><p>(00:32:29):</p><p>also happened to run into this like retired Disney animator who was living in</p><p>(00:32:33):</p><p>Hawaii and</p><p>(00:32:34):</p><p>And teaching He’s the guy His name is Dan Boulos If you’re listening Dan Dan Boulos</p><p>(00:32:40):</p><p>Dan Boulos Look him up I need another podcast guest Dan Boulos Seriously I should</p><p>(00:32:44):</p><p>reach out to him He’s still around I think he still lives in Hawaii But if you look</p><p>(00:32:48):</p><p>him up He is the one that animated the wolves In Beauty and the Beast I think he</p><p>(00:32:53):</p><p>animated</p><p>(00:32:54):</p><p>Mrs.</p><p>(00:32:55):</p><p>Potts and Chip because everyone animates a different thing he animated at that time</p><p>(00:33:01):</p><p>the animation you actually had to draw it sell animation by him and he also</p><p>(00:33:07):</p><p>animated I think Flounder from Little Mermaid then he also did some stuff with</p><p>(00:33:12):</p><p>Quest for Camelot not Disney so he was this old school animator but he was teaching</p><p>(00:33:18):</p><p>some of the graphic design and animation classes in Hawaii at the community college</p><p>(00:33:23):</p><p>And it just opened me up to this whole world.</p><p>(00:33:26):</p><p>So at first I thought I’d be a storyboard artist for like Pixar or something.</p><p>(00:33:31):</p><p>But then I just, I kind of went all in on this Hawaii coral reef initiative.</p><p>(00:33:35):</p><p>And I ended up working there seven years.</p><p>(00:33:36):</p><p>Even after I graduated, I kept the job.</p><p>(00:33:39):</p><p>Even when I moved to Omaha and I married Meg, I kept that job.</p><p>(00:33:44):</p><p>That’s what I bought my first house on was this job.</p><p>(00:33:46):</p><p>No coral reefs in Omaha, by the way.</p><p>(00:33:49):</p><p>Yeah, no coral reefs here.</p><p>(00:33:51):</p><p>But I was literally,</p><p>(00:33:53):</p><p>when I was first married,</p><p>(00:33:55):</p><p>living here,</p><p>(00:33:55):</p><p>I was working full time for the Hawaii Coral Reef Initiative and I was doing remote</p><p>(00:34:01):</p><p>work from my basement way before it was cool.</p><p>(00:34:04):</p><p>In 2010,</p><p>(00:34:05):</p><p>2011,</p><p>(00:34:07):</p><p>working for this organization in Hawaii,</p><p>(00:34:10):</p><p>drawing pictures of fish all day and doing publication design and layout.</p><p>(00:34:16):</p><p>It was insane.</p><p>(00:34:17):</p><p>So what would they do with your fish?</p><p>(00:34:19):</p><p>Okay,</p><p>(00:34:20):</p><p>so the big thing that we did,</p><p>(00:34:21):</p><p>we did a few things,</p><p>(00:34:22):</p><p>but the big thing that we did was we created this really cool interactive public</p><p>(00:34:29):</p><p>school science curriculum for Hawaii public schools called Reef Pulse Hawaii,</p><p>(00:34:34):</p><p>where it ended up being a thousand-page curriculum with full-color illustrations</p><p>(00:34:39):</p><p>that I did.</p><p>(00:34:40):</p><p>So no kids reading that.</p><p>(00:34:42):</p><p>Yeah, exactly.</p><p>(00:34:43):</p><p>Seven years wasted.</p><p>(00:34:45):</p><p>I don’t know if this was ever used, to be honest.</p><p>(00:34:47):</p><p>It’s like a seven year project.</p><p>(00:34:49):</p><p>I kid you not.</p><p>(00:34:50):</p><p>But the interesting part was it was so tailored to my skills that there was also</p><p>(00:34:58):</p><p>this whole science song component and I wrote and recorded</p><p>(00:35:04):</p><p>like I think 30 science songs wow for kids it’s a part of the school bus yeah it’s</p><p>(00:35:10):</p><p>like that and it was I got to explore all these different styles of music I mean</p><p>(00:35:14):</p><p>some of it’s better than others other parts of it you know it’s rough around the</p><p>(00:35:17):</p><p>edges but it’s just funny because I had this like little mini career where I had to</p><p>(00:35:21):</p><p>learn publication design I had to learn illustration I had to learn music recording</p><p>(00:35:26):</p><p>you’d think I’d be better at recording podcasts and stuff</p><p>(00:35:31):</p><p>But yeah, it was like so weird.</p><p>(00:35:35):</p><p>Like I got to do all this stuff.</p><p>(00:35:36):</p><p>And the other crazy part about it too is my younger brother Abe,</p><p>(00:35:41):</p><p>he worked for them as well doing web design and video stuff and animation.</p><p>(00:35:44):</p><p>And so him and I were like,</p><p>(00:35:47):</p><p>Before I married Meg,</p><p>(00:35:48):</p><p>we were living together and going to school here in Omaha and both working for the</p><p>(00:35:52):</p><p>Hawaii Coral Reef Initiative and doing all this crazy stuff together,</p><p>(00:35:56):</p><p>making flash websites and even storyboards for animated science videos.</p><p>(00:36:03):</p><p>It was wild.</p><p>(00:36:04):</p><p>At 17, 18, 19 years old.</p><p>(00:36:07):</p><p>It was wild.</p><p>(00:36:07):</p><p>So that was your full-time job?</p><p>(00:36:09):</p><p>It turned into a full-time job.</p><p>(00:36:10):</p><p>It started part-time, turned into a full-time job with benefits.</p><p>(00:36:15):</p><p>I feel like that happens to every artist.</p><p>(00:36:23):</p><p>Now I’m back there.</p><p>(00:36:24):</p><p>Now I do this again.</p><p>(00:36:25):</p><p>Way to bury the lead.</p><p>(00:36:27):</p><p>That was my funny part at the end.</p><p>(00:36:29):</p><p>I’m going to read the last bullet here.</p><p>(00:36:32):</p><p>And now you’re living in your parents’ basement and talking to me as the very first</p><p>(00:36:36):</p><p>guest on a podcast that didn’t exist until this very interview.</p><p>(00:36:40):</p><p>that was that was the return home part of the hero’s journey but we skipped all the</p><p>(00:36:44):</p><p>good parts all the good parts yeah well it is funny because like yeah I literally</p><p>(00:36:48):</p><p>yeah as Chris just uh gave away I go by C.S.</p><p>(00:36:52):</p><p>Beaty we C.S.</p><p>(00:36:54):</p><p>Beaty uh just gave away um B.A.</p><p>(00:36:58):</p><p>Looters over here um</p><p>(00:37:05):</p><p>We sold our Benson home and we’re looking for a house and living with my parents.</p><p>(00:37:09):</p><p>So I am living in my parents’ basement and running my design studio out of my</p><p>(00:37:15):</p><p>parents’ basement at the moment.</p><p>(00:37:17):</p><p>Hopefully not forever.</p><p>(00:37:18):</p><p>I wish I was in your basement.</p><p>(00:37:19):</p><p>Look how cool this is.</p><p>(00:37:20):</p><p>My basement is way better than your parents’ basement.</p><p>(00:37:24):</p><p>I should move in.</p><p>(00:37:25):</p><p>If you take one of my three kids and have the basement.</p><p>(00:37:28):</p><p>I promise I won’t.</p><p>(00:37:29):</p><p>I will take that trade.</p><p>(00:37:30):</p><p>Well, your kids are probably better than mine.</p><p>(00:37:32):</p><p>I could probably I’d probably bring one of them I’ve got a lot of kids I don’t know</p><p>(00:37:35):</p><p>I wouldn’t even notice you probably wouldn’t even notice so alright so let’s fill</p><p>(00:37:39):</p><p>in these gaps here so how did you end up in Omaha yeah yeah okay so this is</p><p>(00:37:44):</p><p>actually so somewhat easy so I again was going to community college in Hawaii</p><p>(00:37:49):</p><p>switching from music to design related stuff I have this part time job but I’m</p><p>(00:37:54):</p><p>still living at home I’m living with my parents I’m 18 and I turn 19 I’m like this</p><p>(00:37:59):</p><p>is getting crazy I need to move out</p><p>(00:38:01):</p><p>But Hawaii is the most expensive place to move in.</p><p>(00:38:04):</p><p>And so I’m looking at places that I could move in with maybe, I don’t know, six of my friends.</p><p>(00:38:08):</p><p>It’s like, okay, we’re going to have to split this a lot of different ways.</p><p>(00:38:12):</p><p>But a lot of them were going off to college in the mainland, as we call it.</p><p>(00:38:17):</p><p>And I was just realizing, oh man, this is going to be super expensive.</p><p>(00:38:21):</p><p>And that’s when my younger brother,</p><p>(00:38:23):</p><p>Abe,</p><p>(00:38:23):</p><p>who was really young,</p><p>(00:38:26):</p><p>because he’s homeschooled,</p><p>(00:38:26):</p><p>was going to community college since he was 14.</p><p>(00:38:28):</p><p>He was like,</p><p>(00:38:31):</p><p>Ben,</p><p>(00:38:32):</p><p>we get in-state tuition,</p><p>(00:38:33):</p><p>apparently,</p><p>(00:38:34):</p><p>this is true,</p><p>(00:38:35):</p><p>you get in-state tuition when you’re a military dependent,</p><p>(00:38:38):</p><p>and we word military dependents,</p><p>(00:38:40):</p><p>Where your parent in the military is stationed,</p><p>(00:38:46):</p><p>and I guess where they’re from,</p><p>(00:38:47):</p><p>like where their home base is,</p><p>(00:38:48):</p><p>I don’t understand,</p><p>(00:38:50):</p><p>which is technically Omaha.</p><p>(00:38:51):</p><p>So I would get in-state tuition in Hawaii,</p><p>(00:38:53):</p><p>where my dad was stationed,</p><p>(00:38:55):</p><p>or I would get in-state tuition in Omaha,</p><p>(00:38:57):</p><p>where my dad is from,</p><p>(00:38:58):</p><p>I guess.</p><p>(00:38:59):</p><p>And it was like, well, you look at out-of-state tuition, that was really expensive anywhere, and</p><p>(00:39:05):</p><p>But I was like, wow, I could move out in Omaha.</p><p>(00:39:07):</p><p>We started looking at prices of, like, apartments in Elkhorn, Nebraska, and stuff like that.</p><p>(00:39:12):</p><p>I’m like, you can buy three of these.</p><p>(00:39:13):</p><p>Dang, yeah, like, wow, I could do this.</p><p>(00:39:17):</p><p>I could pay half of this apartment, right?</p><p>(00:39:19):</p><p>So it just, like,</p><p>(00:39:21):</p><p>I was just like,</p><p>(00:39:21):</p><p>wow,</p><p>(00:39:22):</p><p>I’ll just go there,</p><p>(00:39:23):</p><p>finish up some school,</p><p>(00:39:24):</p><p>and then I’m sure I’ll move on to the East Coast,</p><p>(00:39:27):</p><p>the West Coast,</p><p>(00:39:28):</p><p>somewhere cool,</p><p>(00:39:29):</p><p>whatever.</p><p>(00:39:30):</p><p>I’ll be rich and famous.</p><p>(00:39:31):</p><p>I’ll figure it out.</p><p>(00:39:32):</p><p>Never thought I would stay here for very long.</p><p>(00:39:34):</p><p>It was like, this is where my grandparents were because my parents were from here.</p><p>(00:39:37):</p><p>But I was like, there’s no way I’m going to stay here for very long.</p><p>(00:39:40):</p><p>I’m going to finish up some school because it’s cheaper, and that’s it.</p><p>(00:39:45):</p><p>That’s not what happened.</p><p>(00:39:45):</p><p>But yeah, that’s what I thought.</p><p>(00:39:47):</p><p>No, we already covered that part.</p><p>(00:39:48):</p><p>No, we didn’t.</p><p>(00:39:50):</p><p>I don’t know where we’re at in this interview at this point.</p><p>(00:39:51):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:39:52):</p><p>basically,</p><p>(00:39:52):</p><p>I’m in Omaha,</p><p>(00:39:54):</p><p>and at the same time,</p><p>(00:39:56):</p><p>this girl that I thought I was going to marry,</p><p>(00:39:57):</p><p>her family relocates to Virginia,</p><p>(00:39:59):</p><p>and that’s where I keep on driving from Omaha,</p><p>(00:40:01):</p><p>Virginia,</p><p>(00:40:03):</p><p>trying to make this thing work.</p><p>(00:40:05):</p><p>It falls apart, and at the same time,</p><p>(00:40:08):</p><p>Megan is like and her family is a part of my life here in Omaha and it just it</p><p>(00:40:13):</p><p>moved pretty fast once everything fell apart the other girl it was like became</p><p>(00:40:16):</p><p>really clear oh dang</p><p>(00:40:18):</p><p>Why am I trying to marry this girl when I can marry this girl?</p><p>(00:40:21):</p><p>And so we were married pretty quickly after that.</p><p>(00:40:25):</p><p>So you met Meg through church?</p><p>(00:40:27):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:40:28):</p><p>She went to my church.</p><p>(00:40:28):</p><p>We were going to this small conservative Presbyterian church called Dominion</p><p>(00:40:34):</p><p>Covenant Church that still exists.</p><p>(00:40:37):</p><p>And my best friend was the pastor’s son, oldest son.</p><p>(00:40:41):</p><p>And he really liked Megan So I didn’t actually know her that well But he talked</p><p>(00:40:46):</p><p>about her all the time But he ended up moving away I could do a way better job with</p><p>(00:40:49):</p><p>her He moved away,</p><p>(00:40:50):</p><p>fell in love with someone else And I was in his wedding And realizing,</p><p>(00:40:55):</p><p>oh,</p><p>(00:40:55):</p><p>no one’s marrying Megan She’s available So I ended up marrying her She was super</p><p>(00:41:01):</p><p>cool It is funny I think you probably have this You have your heart so set on</p><p>(00:41:09):</p><p>something And then</p><p>(00:41:12):</p><p>You see what you should be attracted to or interested in or what’s actually compatible.</p><p>(00:41:24):</p><p>Meg and I are really well matched.</p><p>(00:41:26):</p><p>We’re totally opposites.</p><p>(00:41:28):</p><p>Totally opposites.</p><p>(00:41:30):</p><p>I’m an extrovert.</p><p>(00:41:30):</p><p>She’s an introvert.</p><p>(00:41:32):</p><p>She’s fiercely loyal.</p><p>(00:41:37):</p><p>I don’t know if you believe in the Enneagram.</p><p>(00:41:38):</p><p>That’s a big</p><p>(00:41:45):</p><p>I’m a big seven adventurer,</p><p>(00:41:48):</p><p>and she’s a one perfectionist kind of person,</p><p>(00:41:52):</p><p>if you believe in that sort of thing.</p><p>(00:41:53):</p><p>I hear some people do.</p><p>(00:41:55):</p><p>Yeah, some people do.</p><p>(00:41:56):</p><p>It’s fine.</p><p>(00:41:57):</p><p>I have conflicted feelings.</p><p>(00:41:59):</p><p>But anyways, we’re really different than one another, but it just kind of works.</p><p>(00:42:05):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:42:08):</p><p>Does the Enneagram think that you’re supposed to work?</p><p>(00:42:11):</p><p>That’s a good question.</p><p>(00:42:11):</p><p>I think it does.</p><p>(00:42:12):</p><p>I think opposites are supposed to attract.</p><p>(00:42:14):</p><p>When I think of the Enneagram,</p><p>(00:42:15):</p><p>I think of those placemats at Chinese restaurants that tell you the Chinese zodiac,</p><p>(00:42:18):</p><p>and it’s like,</p><p>(00:42:19):</p><p>if you’re a horse,</p><p>(00:42:20):</p><p>never marry a rat.</p><p>(00:42:23):</p><p>Which the real reason is because there’s an 18-year age gap,</p><p>(00:42:26):</p><p>and that’s probably not going to work</p><p>(00:42:27):</p><p>Maybe they’re on to something.</p><p>(00:42:30):</p><p>We do have a large age gap.</p><p>(00:42:31):</p><p>I will say that.</p><p>(00:42:34):</p><p>I’m very immature for my age and she’s very mature for age.</p><p>(00:42:38):</p><p>We meet in the middle.</p><p>(00:42:40):</p><p>Which leads me to the next part.</p><p>(00:42:41):</p><p>You started an app to sell flowers.</p><p>(00:42:44):</p><p>My gosh, Chris.</p><p>(00:42:45):</p><p>You’ve done your research.</p><p>(00:42:47):</p><p>I was friends with you when you did that.</p><p>(00:42:50):</p><p>That’s true.</p><p>(00:42:51):</p><p>I forgot about that.</p><p>(00:42:52):</p><p>So did everyone else.</p><p>(00:42:54):</p><p>I feel like I’m on Hot Ones right now.</p><p>(00:42:57):</p><p>I need some more of this it’s really good no it’s fine we’re just drinking like</p><p>(00:43:04):</p><p>sailors over here those of you on the video broadcast that’s right well I answer</p><p>(00:43:10):</p><p>this question Chris is like heading over to the bar but yeah so a couple friends</p><p>(00:43:15):</p><p>from church oh my gosh we’re getting straight bourbon here on the rocks okay</p><p>(00:43:22):</p><p>Anyways,</p><p>(00:43:23):</p><p>a couple friends from church,</p><p>(00:43:24):</p><p>they had this idea for a flower delivery app that we ended up calling Zinnia.</p><p>(00:43:31):</p><p>Basically, I was just starting my design company, Fruitful, at the time.</p><p>(00:43:37):</p><p>They were like, hey,</p><p>(00:43:39):</p><p>Maybe if we give Ben like part ownership in this thing,</p><p>(00:43:42):</p><p>he’ll do a bunch of design work for us on the cheap.</p><p>(00:43:46):</p><p>So I did get to like really do a lot of like UI, UX design for apps and homepage.</p><p>(00:43:54):</p><p>Ultimately, it ended up not really amounting to a whole lot.</p><p>(00:43:57):</p><p>But we did, you know, we got into like an accelerator or whatever you call that.</p><p>(00:44:02):</p><p>We raised some money.</p><p>(00:44:03):</p><p>I remember when that happened because I remember being told to pray for you.</p><p>(00:44:06):</p><p>You probably should have prayed some more.</p><p>(00:44:12):</p><p>It’s your fault.</p><p>(00:44:13):</p><p>Blame it on me.</p><p>(00:44:13):</p><p>I did buy flowers from you, though.</p><p>(00:44:15):</p><p>I thought that might actually help.</p><p>(00:44:16):</p><p>Well, we did end up selling.</p><p>(00:44:18):</p><p>We did sell to a florist in town.</p><p>(00:44:20):</p><p>I think Janusek Florist still has the site.</p><p>(00:44:22):</p><p>I think it still exists.</p><p>(00:44:24):</p><p>It’s kind of an old Squarespace site.</p><p>(00:44:26):</p><p>Could probably use an update.</p><p>(00:44:28):</p><p>But it ended up just being a lot smaller.</p><p>(00:44:31):</p><p>The original concept of it, Chris, was more of like...</p><p>(00:44:36):</p><p>It’s going to sound cliche.</p><p>(00:44:38):</p><p>More of like the Airbnb for florists,</p><p>(00:44:41):</p><p>where basically florists would be able to have an account and be able to sell their</p><p>(00:44:47):</p><p>flowers on this marketplace like Airbnb.</p><p>(00:44:51):</p><p>That was the idea initially.</p><p>(00:44:52):</p><p>But basically, we went through that accelerator.</p><p>(00:44:54):</p><p>They’re like, this is, oh, you pulled it up.</p><p>(00:44:56):</p><p>Yeah, no, it’s still there.</p><p>(00:44:57):</p><p>GoZidia.com.</p><p>(00:44:58):</p><p>I bought flowers from it.</p><p>(00:44:59):</p><p>It still exists.</p><p>(00:44:59):</p><p>It’s got your logo on it.</p><p>(00:45:01):</p><p>You made this logo, right?</p><p>(00:45:01):</p><p>Yeah, I made that logo.</p><p>(00:45:02):</p><p>Yeah, actually, Aaron Pilly and I did that.</p><p>(00:45:04):</p><p>I think Aaron really did the lettering on that.</p><p>(00:45:07):</p><p>Seems like your style.</p><p>(00:45:08):</p><p>GoZinnia.com to send flowers in Omaha.</p><p>(00:45:12):</p><p>If you’re in Omaha.</p><p>(00:45:13):</p><p>Only if you’re in Omaha.</p><p>(00:45:15):</p><p>And they come in a burlap sack.</p><p>(00:45:16):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(00:45:17):</p><p>basically the final version of Zinnia,</p><p>(00:45:19):</p><p>it went far away from the marketplace and it just became like,</p><p>(00:45:23):</p><p>hey,</p><p>(00:45:23):</p><p>if you order from,</p><p>(00:45:24):</p><p>you can order these set like bouquets from Zinnia,</p><p>(00:45:27):</p><p>GoZinnia.com and Janusek Florist will make them and drive them out and deliver</p><p>(00:45:32):</p><p>them.</p><p>(00:45:32):</p><p>And they’re all named after your wives.</p><p>(00:45:34):</p><p>Yeah, they were like all named after the wives of the founders.</p><p>(00:45:39):</p><p>Is there actually a Meg?</p><p>(00:45:40):</p><p>I can’t even remember.</p><p>(00:45:41):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(00:45:41):</p><p>I don’t remember what the arrangement was,</p><p>(00:45:43):</p><p>but I remember they’re all,</p><p>(00:45:43):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:45:43):</p><p>how’d they come up with these?</p><p>(00:45:45):</p><p>Oh, yeah, it’s their wives’ names.</p><p>(00:45:46):</p><p>Yeah, it’s kind of creepy, isn’t it?</p><p>(00:45:48):</p><p>Yeah, everyone knows our wives.</p><p>(00:45:49):</p><p>I’ve done buying those Megan flowers.</p><p>(00:45:50):</p><p>The Megan flowers.</p><p>(00:45:53):</p><p>Gross.</p><p>(00:45:54):</p><p>Oh, man.</p><p>(00:45:55):</p><p>Canceled.</p><p>(00:45:57):</p><p>Canceled before even, we didn’t even release the first podcast, and it’s already been canceled.</p><p>(00:46:01):</p><p>That’s so funny.</p><p>(00:46:02):</p><p>I kind of, like,</p><p>(00:46:04):</p><p>yeah I’ve forgotten that I learned a lot of stuff during that that phase it was</p><p>(00:46:08):</p><p>kind of kind of crazy because like yeah a couple of his friends you know Nathan and</p><p>(00:46:13):</p><p>Andy who were kind of doing that they they put a lot on the line both of them kind</p><p>(00:46:17):</p><p>of left their main jobs for a minute and tried it out and you didn’t you’re I</p><p>(00:46:22):</p><p>didn’t no no no I’m not that dumb yeah they gave me 10% of the company but like</p><p>(00:46:28):</p><p>Because there were some investors when we went through that accelerator.</p><p>(00:46:31):</p><p>Janice Tech Forest did pay us.</p><p>(00:46:34):</p><p>They paid us to purchase the name and the website and everything.</p><p>(00:46:38):</p><p>But because we owed all this money to these investors, I think I made like $36.</p><p>(00:46:43):</p><p>Or like $64.</p><p>(00:46:44):</p><p>I think that’s my exact royalties on my book so far.</p><p>(00:46:47):</p><p>Yeah, that’s right.</p><p>(00:46:48):</p><p>That’s like my royalties on my book.</p><p>(00:46:50):</p><p>But like, yeah, it was like under $100 for sure was my payout.</p><p>(00:46:55):</p><p>But I guess it’s better than owing something.</p><p>(00:46:59):</p><p>I bought a lot of flyers.</p><p>(00:47:00):</p><p>I still do every once in a while.</p><p>(00:47:02):</p><p>Now I’m a big fan of the Trader Joe’s bouquets.</p><p>(00:47:07):</p><p>That’s what my wife likes.</p><p>(00:47:08):</p><p>That’s what the real Megan likes, is buying Trader Joe’s bouquets.</p><p>(00:47:11):</p><p>Yeah, so I switched to that because...</p><p>(00:47:14):</p><p>It’s just easier.</p><p>(00:47:16):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:47:17):</p><p>But I did buy a lot.</p><p>(00:47:18):</p><p>Actually, I don’t know if you knew this or not.</p><p>(00:47:20):</p><p>Technically, I don’t know how technical it was.</p><p>(00:47:22):</p><p>Our wedding was done by Zinnia.</p><p>(00:47:25):</p><p>What?</p><p>(00:47:26):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:47:27):</p><p>I did not remember this.</p><p>(00:47:28):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:47:29):</p><p>So Andy’s wife.</p><p>(00:47:31):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:47:32):</p><p>Which floral arrangement is she?</p><p>(00:47:34):</p><p>Let me see.</p><p>(00:47:37):</p><p>I’ve had too many drinks.</p><p>(00:47:38):</p><p>You’ve had any?</p><p>(00:47:41):</p><p>Unless you’re counting your Yeti full of wine over there.</p><p>(00:47:44):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:47:46):</p><p>I don’t remember Andy Holtz’s wife’s name.</p><p>(00:47:50):</p><p>Why am I totally blind?</p><p>(00:47:51):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:47:52):</p><p>She’s a great woman.</p><p>(00:47:52):</p><p>I’m sure she still is.</p><p>(00:47:53):</p><p>You have to delete this out.</p><p>(00:47:54):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:47:54):</p><p>I’m sure she still is.</p><p>(00:47:55):</p><p>But she was our... Katie.</p><p>(00:47:57):</p><p>Katie.</p><p>(00:47:58):</p><p>Yeah, Katie Holtz.</p><p>(00:47:59):</p><p>The Katie.</p><p>(00:48:00):</p><p>Sorry, Katie, when you listen to this.</p><p>(00:48:01):</p><p>Sorry, Katie.</p><p>(00:48:02):</p><p>I was thinking about my wife so much.</p><p>(00:48:03):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:48:04):</p><p>I know you’re a big fan of this podcast, so you’re probably very upset.</p><p>(00:48:08):</p><p>So Katie was our wedding coordinator.</p><p>(00:48:12):</p><p>Oh, yeah.</p><p>(00:48:12):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:48:12):</p><p>So she was working for the church.</p><p>(00:48:14):</p><p>That was her little gig.</p><p>(00:48:16):</p><p>She would coordinate weddings.</p><p>(00:48:17):</p><p>So we got married.</p><p>(00:48:18):</p><p>And she did all the coordinating.</p><p>(00:48:21):</p><p>It’s so important.</p><p>(00:48:22):</p><p>You’ve got to have a coordinator.</p><p>(00:48:23):</p><p>I didn’t really have a coordinator.</p><p>(00:48:24):</p><p>It can really help.</p><p>(00:48:25):</p><p>I really didn’t understand what her job was until I realized all the things that we</p><p>(00:48:29):</p><p>didn’t know what we were doing.</p><p>(00:48:30):</p><p>And then we’re like, oh, okay, this is great.</p><p>(00:48:33):</p><p>And what we were telling her, we’re like, this is its own podcast episode.</p><p>(00:48:39):</p><p>So we thought we had a hookup through Paige’s dad with the flowers.</p><p>(00:48:43):</p><p>And so it was just her dad’s always done a bunch of weird</p><p>(00:48:47):</p><p>By C.S.</p><p>(00:48:47):</p><p>Beaty</p><p>(00:49:07):</p><p>But so like we’re we’re just complaining to her about how like well we thought we</p><p>(00:49:12):</p><p>had a good hookup with a wholesale flower dealer we went to this wholesale flower</p><p>(00:49:15):</p><p>and we gave the name of the account they said oh that’s not been active for a long</p><p>(00:49:19):</p><p>time we’re like well thanks thanks future father-in-law</p><p>(00:49:23):</p><p>So we’re telling Katie the story and if you’re wondering what that background noise</p><p>(00:49:27):</p><p>is my wife is now getting into the tub above the ceiling above us it’s the running</p><p>(00:49:32):</p><p>water so Katie she goes well we probably have a wholesale account you can just use</p><p>(00:49:38):</p><p>ours and we’re like</p><p>(00:49:39):</p><p>Okay, but then what do we do?</p><p>(00:49:42):</p><p>And so Katie figured out like one of the, is it Epperson?</p><p>(00:49:47):</p><p>Emily Epperson?</p><p>(00:49:48):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:49:49):</p><p>She’s another big fan of the podcast.</p><p>(00:49:50):</p><p>I gotta give her a shout out.</p><p>(00:49:52):</p><p>Gosh, all these ladies that listen.</p><p>(00:49:54):</p><p>Yeah, good memory.</p><p>(00:49:55):</p><p>Wow.</p><p>(00:49:55):</p><p>Geez, Chris, you were insane.</p><p>(00:49:57):</p><p>so she was the florist and so she was she designed a lot of those bouquets yeah so</p><p>(00:50:01):</p><p>we got so katie reached out to her because it was still very like zinni was still a</p><p>(00:50:05):</p><p>thing yeah reached out to her uh gave us a sweet deal on the uh on everything</p><p>(00:50:10):</p><p>because they wanted they didn’t know if they wanted to do weddings or not and so</p><p>(00:50:13):</p><p>like they basically just gave it to us at cost oh my goodness to promote and say we</p><p>(00:50:18):</p><p>did this wedding and so like you probably ran a lot of stuff on your website or</p><p>(00:50:22):</p><p>somebody did about my wedding and you know you were actually even there and</p><p>(00:50:27):</p><p>He had no recollection of this.</p><p>(00:50:28):</p><p>No, I did not remember.</p><p>(00:50:30):</p><p>Yeah, so it was like Paige showed me, I think, what did we use, Facebook back then?</p><p>(00:50:36):</p><p>Yeah, probably.</p><p>(00:50:37):</p><p>Zinnia Facebook.</p><p>(00:50:38):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:50:39):</p><p>Talked about our wedding and used our wedding as like advertisement of,</p><p>(00:50:42):</p><p>look at this great wedding game.</p><p>(00:50:43):</p><p>And it turned out great.</p><p>(00:50:44):</p><p>I’m going to dig this up.</p><p>(00:50:45):</p><p>I still have the dead wedding bouquet upstairs.</p><p>(00:50:47):</p><p>Do you really?</p><p>(00:50:48):</p><p>Well, I mean, doesn’t everybody keep their wedding bouquet?</p><p>(00:50:51):</p><p>I guess I don’t.</p><p>(00:50:52):</p><p>Maybe Meg has it somewhere in storage.</p><p>(00:50:55):</p><p>My goodness.</p><p>(00:50:56):</p><p>You have such a good memory.</p><p>(00:50:58):</p><p>Your marriage isn’t as strong as ours.</p><p>(00:50:59):</p><p>Apparently not.</p><p>(00:51:00):</p><p>If I had that dead bouquet, I don’t, man.</p><p>(00:51:02):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:51:02):</p><p>Well, and I actually, my one contribution to our floral arrangement was</p><p>(00:51:08):</p><p>I was in a wedding where they used silk flowers.</p><p>(00:51:10):</p><p>Like I was like a groomsman or something.</p><p>(00:51:11):</p><p>I loved it because I didn’t have to worry about destroying it.</p><p>(00:51:14):</p><p>And so I said, I want fake flowers for our, what do they call them?</p><p>(00:51:17):</p><p>Oh, the corsage.</p><p>(00:51:18):</p><p>Corsage.</p><p>(00:51:19):</p><p>Is that what it is?</p><p>(00:51:20):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:51:20):</p><p>So I said,</p><p>(00:51:20):</p><p>I want a fake flower because I said,</p><p>(00:51:22):</p><p>I don’t want to worry the whole night about,</p><p>(00:51:23):</p><p>am I going to kill this</p><p>(00:51:25):</p><p>You know, living thing, this delicate thing.</p><p>(00:51:28):</p><p>I just want to be able to pick up a kid and swing it.</p><p>(00:51:30):</p><p>You want something fake just like you.</p><p>(00:51:32):</p><p>Yes, it was a good metaphor for our marriage.</p><p>(00:51:36):</p><p>It’s like everything’s been fake up to this point.</p><p>(00:51:39):</p><p>Why stop now?</p><p>(00:51:41):</p><p>Okay, so after you started around that time, we’ve already alluded to this, you started a band.</p><p>(00:51:46):</p><p>You found a really amazing diamond in the rough to be your drummer.</p><p>(00:51:50):</p><p>You got offered a recording contract and turned it down.</p><p>(00:51:54):</p><p>That’s true.</p><p>(00:51:54):</p><p>Some of us wanted to take that deal, by the way.</p><p>(00:51:56):</p><p>Okay, so remind me of what that was.</p><p>(00:51:59):</p><p>It’s so funny.</p><p>(00:52:00):</p><p>Your memory is so much better than mine.</p><p>(00:52:02):</p><p>When I was reading that in your book and stuff, I’m like, this did happen, but did I...</p><p>(00:52:09):</p><p>It meant a lot more to him.</p><p>(00:52:10):</p><p>It meant way more to you than to me, apparently.</p><p>(00:52:14):</p><p>You were still allowed to play on church worship, so I was clinging on to anything I could.</p><p>(00:52:17):</p><p>This was it.</p><p>(00:52:18):</p><p>This was everything for you.</p><p>(00:52:19):</p><p>But what was that?</p><p>(00:52:20):</p><p>Was that through Schaefer?</p><p>(00:52:22):</p><p>Ben Schaefer.</p><p>(00:52:22):</p><p>Ben Schaefer.</p><p>(00:52:23):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:52:24):</p><p>Okay, now that...</p><p>(00:52:25):</p><p>I mean, if you phrase it like that, it sounds like a bigger deal than it was.</p><p>(00:52:29):</p><p>Right.</p><p>(00:52:29):</p><p>But it was legitimate.</p><p>(00:52:31):</p><p>Somebody offered to pay us to record a CD.</p><p>(00:52:34):</p><p>Right.</p><p>(00:52:34):</p><p>Which is, by definition, a recording contract.</p><p>(00:52:36):</p><p>That is a recording contract.</p><p>(00:52:37):</p><p>He did have a...</p><p>(00:52:38):</p><p>He literally gave you a piece of paper that we reviewed and said something about-</p><p>(00:52:42):</p><p>Did we review a paper?</p><p>(00:52:43):</p><p>You might have.</p><p>(00:52:44):</p><p>He made,</p><p>(00:52:45):</p><p>because I remember he made a comment about this is a standard deal for whatever,</p><p>(00:52:48):</p><p>whatever.</p><p>(00:52:48):</p><p>I don’t know if I ever actually saw a paper, but we, yeah, we had something.</p><p>(00:52:52):</p><p>I’m like picturing, have you seen the Muppet movie?</p><p>(00:52:55):</p><p>Well, there’s like 20 of them.</p><p>(00:52:56):</p><p>No, the original The Muppet movie.</p><p>(00:52:58):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:52:59):</p><p>You mean The Muppet Christmas Carol?</p><p>(00:53:00):</p><p>No, no.</p><p>(00:53:01):</p><p>That’s also good.</p><p>(00:53:01):</p><p>With Gonzo as Charles Dickens?</p><p>(00:53:03):</p><p>I’ve seen that one.</p><p>(00:53:04):</p><p>The Muppet movie from like 1970, whatever.</p><p>(00:53:06):</p><p>The first one where they’re trying to go to Hollywood and break into movies.</p><p>(00:53:10):</p><p>And the very end</p><p>(00:53:11):</p><p>They come up to Orson Welles.</p><p>(00:53:13):</p><p>He’s in the studio in Hollywood.</p><p>(00:53:16):</p><p>He’s got a big beard.</p><p>(00:53:17):</p><p>You’re supposed to know who this is.</p><p>(00:53:18):</p><p>Yeah, he turns around.</p><p>(00:53:18):</p><p>It’s a cameo, and it’s like Orson Welles.</p><p>(00:53:21):</p><p>And they say, hey, we’re here to become rich and famous or whatever.</p><p>(00:53:25):</p><p>And he just stares at them like he’s going to fire them.</p><p>(00:53:28):</p><p>And then he just pushes down the intercom button for the receptionist and is like,</p><p>(00:53:33):</p><p>prepare the standard rich and famous contract for Kermit the Frog and</p><p>(00:53:41):</p><p>He was the Orson Welles in that situation.</p><p>(00:53:44):</p><p>Yeah, and you...</p><p>(00:53:45):</p><p>Turned it on down.</p><p>(00:53:47):</p><p>And you, like the Muppet that you are, didn’t understand what was going on.</p><p>(00:53:50):</p><p>I was basically Gonzo.</p><p>(00:53:51):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:53:51):</p><p>Yeah, well, it’s so funny.</p><p>(00:53:52):</p><p>So,</p><p>(00:53:52):</p><p>yeah,</p><p>(00:53:54):</p><p>like I said before,</p><p>(00:53:54):</p><p>I was super into music when I was living in Hawaii,</p><p>(00:53:58):</p><p>and I started writing songs when I was,</p><p>(00:54:00):</p><p>like,</p><p>(00:54:01):</p><p>14.</p><p>(00:54:01):</p><p>Most of them were love songs about that girl that I wanted to marry.</p><p>(00:54:04):</p><p>But, like, you know, I kind of went from...</p><p>(00:54:08):</p><p>Just classical music to like,</p><p>(00:54:10):</p><p>yeah,</p><p>(00:54:10):</p><p>writing a lot of my own songs,</p><p>(00:54:12):</p><p>started teaching myself guitar,</p><p>(00:54:13):</p><p>stuff like that.</p><p>(00:54:15):</p><p>And I always like wanted to be in a band,</p><p>(00:54:17):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(00:54:18):</p><p>but like I always also,</p><p>(00:54:20):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(00:54:20):</p><p>felt like my stuff wasn’t good enough or like I was afraid of what people would</p><p>(00:54:23):</p><p>think or I just felt self-conscious that people would,</p><p>(00:54:28):</p><p>I don’t know,</p><p>(00:54:29):</p><p>because I wrote all the songs that they would think I’m controlling.</p><p>(00:54:33):</p><p>I don’t know, I just, I was afraid of, are you playing our music right now?</p><p>(00:54:39):</p><p>Can they hear this?</p><p>(00:54:40):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(00:54:40):</p><p>I don’t know how these podcasts work.</p><p>(00:54:43):</p><p>For those of you that aren’t on the video pod,</p><p>(00:54:44):</p><p>we’re now playing track number 10,</p><p>(00:54:47):</p><p>Jingle Jingle America by Ben Looters from This Battle album from Piano Frog</p><p>(00:54:54):</p><p>Records.</p><p>(00:54:54):</p><p>There you go.</p><p>(00:54:55):</p><p>Totally made up record label, by the way.</p><p>(00:54:58):</p><p>Just like my made up book.</p><p>(00:54:59):</p><p>That’s right.</p><p>(00:55:00):</p><p>Fake just like your corsage.</p><p>(00:55:02):</p><p>Yep.</p><p>(00:55:05):</p><p>I haven’t listened to this in a long time.</p><p>(00:55:06):</p><p>I’ve never.</p><p>(00:55:07):</p><p>I’ve actually never listened.</p><p>(00:55:08):</p><p>So I remember being.</p><p>(00:55:09):</p><p>This is actually a good one to start with.</p><p>(00:55:11):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:55:12):</p><p>I don’t know how to use my CD player ever.</p><p>(00:55:13):</p><p>So we started either.</p><p>(00:55:14):</p><p>So we started track 10.</p><p>(00:55:15):</p><p>I remember being at a. I don’t even know.</p><p>(00:55:17):</p><p>We were talking about the why you started a band.</p><p>(00:55:20):</p><p>But I remember at a. I should probably say I was the drummer at this band.</p><p>(00:55:23):</p><p>I don’t know if that was actually stated.</p><p>(00:55:25):</p><p>And I was at a rehearsal digging through all your.</p><p>(00:55:27):</p><p>We were at the Fruitful Design office.</p><p>(00:55:30):</p><p>Yep.</p><p>(00:55:30):</p><p>And I was very bored.</p><p>(00:55:32):</p><p>Like I usually am in rehearsal.</p><p>(00:55:33):</p><p>By C.S.</p><p>(00:55:34):</p><p>Beaty</p><p>(00:55:54):</p><p>I have another couple boxes of these if you want to give them to all your friends.</p><p>(00:55:57):</p><p>All my podcasts.</p><p>(00:55:59):</p><p>So,</p><p>(00:55:59):</p><p>like and subscribe and send me an email and we will send you a complimentary album</p><p>(00:56:04):</p><p>of Jingle...</p><p>(00:56:05):</p><p>No,</p><p>(00:56:05):</p><p>This Battle by Ben Looters.</p><p>(00:56:08):</p><p>That’s right.</p><p>(00:56:09):</p><p>Yeah, it’s crazy.</p><p>(00:56:12):</p><p>I started writing, like, some of these songs I wrote when I was quite young.</p><p>(00:56:15):</p><p>This album I put together myself didn’t master it or anything.</p><p>(00:56:20):</p><p>It’s kind of poorly recorded, but...</p><p>(00:56:23):</p><p>I recorded it mainly when I was like 19, 20, 21.</p><p>(00:56:27):</p><p>I think something like that.</p><p>(00:56:30):</p><p>And it’s so hard for me to talk with this playing</p><p>(00:56:37):</p><p>But uh anyways yeah like I always like wanted to be in a band or start a band but</p><p>(00:56:44):</p><p>lacked the self-confidence I guess and so after I got married and I had a few kids</p><p>(00:56:50):</p><p>and I just like felt like gosh I need to do this or I’m gonna regret it kind of a</p><p>(00:56:54):</p><p>thing um now I wish I had done it when I was younger probably but then I guess I</p><p>(00:56:58):</p><p>probably would have started one with you no we were not friends when you were you</p><p>(00:57:02):</p><p>had way better friends back then you got right</p><p>(00:57:05):</p><p>It’s true.</p><p>(00:57:06):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(00:57:06):</p><p>it’s funny because what I ended up doing is I sent out,</p><p>(00:57:09):</p><p>it was the most insecure way to start a band.</p><p>(00:57:12):</p><p>So the funny thing, I don’t think you were in the original message.</p><p>(00:57:14):</p><p>No, I wasn’t.</p><p>(00:57:15):</p><p>I remember how I got asked.</p><p>(00:57:16):</p><p>Yeah, I blasted out, yeah, it’s in your book.</p><p>(00:57:19):</p><p>I blasted out a message to a handful of music friends.</p><p>(00:57:23):</p><p>So basically the other thing that happened was</p><p>(00:57:26):</p><p>In Hawaii, I didn’t have that many really good music friends.</p><p>(00:57:28):</p><p>I was like the big fish in a small pond where I grew up.</p><p>(00:57:31):</p><p>A small ocean in Hawaii.</p><p>(00:57:34):</p><p>Pacific Ocean.</p><p>(00:57:35):</p><p>There is not a lot going on there.</p><p>(00:57:38):</p><p>Man, I was leading worship in our small towns.</p><p>(00:57:40):</p><p>I literally think it was everyone but me.</p><p>(00:58:09):</p><p>You didn’t cross my mind when I thought of all the talented musicians I knew.</p><p>(00:58:14):</p><p>Luckily they all turned you down.</p><p>(00:58:16):</p><p>You were a later addition because I blasted this thing out to everyone that I knew.</p><p>(00:58:21):</p><p>I was like, hey, anyone want to start a band with me playing my songs basically?</p><p>(00:58:26):</p><p>And yeah, it was like Lucy, Whitney, and Aaron.</p><p>(00:58:29):</p><p>Did Dan right away?</p><p>(00:58:32):</p><p>I feel like Dan was a later addition as well.</p><p>(00:58:36):</p><p>So him and I were at the same first rehearsal.</p><p>(00:58:38):</p><p>Yeah, that’s right.</p><p>(00:58:39):</p><p>So it was just these three girls came forward.</p><p>(00:58:42):</p><p>And it was a little bit weird.</p><p>(00:58:43):</p><p>I’d actually been teaching Lucy, not piano, but teaching her songwriting at the 402.</p><p>(00:58:49):</p><p>I was a piano teacher, but she was good at piano, but wanted some help with songwriting.</p><p>(00:58:53):</p><p>So I actually knew some of the songs we ended up doing</p><p>(00:58:56):</p><p>I knew because I helped her in songwriting and teaching.</p><p>(00:59:01):</p><p>Composing.</p><p>(00:59:02):</p><p>And she was really good.</p><p>(00:59:03):</p><p>So that’s why I included her in it.</p><p>(00:59:05):</p><p>But it was kind of an interesting thing where basically these three single girls</p><p>(00:59:10):</p><p>said they were available.</p><p>(00:59:12):</p><p>And we were not.</p><p>(00:59:13):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(00:59:14):</p><p>By C.S.</p><p>(00:59:14):</p><p>Beaty</p><p>(00:59:34):</p><p>She was my first employee at my design firm.</p><p>(00:59:38):</p><p>So she was also a designer.</p><p>(00:59:39):</p><p>She did the Zinnia logo with me, like I mentioned.</p><p>(00:59:42):</p><p>And so she was like this known entity.</p><p>(00:59:44):</p><p>Whitney was her roommate.</p><p>(00:59:45):</p><p>And again, Lucy was someone that I had been teaching and I had known for years as well.</p><p>(00:59:49):</p><p>And so we did I think only one show where it was just me and these three girls.</p><p>(00:59:54):</p><p>Yep, I was there.</p><p>(00:59:55):</p><p>Yeah, so you were there.</p><p>(00:59:57):</p><p>Had I already asked you to be in the band to come and listen?</p><p>(00:59:59):</p><p>To come and listen, yeah.</p><p>(01:00:01):</p><p>That’s right.</p><p>(01:00:02):</p><p>So Chris played drums off and on at my church.</p><p>(01:00:06):</p><p>I was very off and on.</p><p>(01:00:07):</p><p>And it was one Sunday.</p><p>(01:00:09):</p><p>The one that I was on.</p><p>(01:00:10):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:00:11):</p><p>He had played this Sunday.</p><p>(01:00:12):</p><p>And I was like, oh, man.</p><p>(01:00:14):</p><p>He sounds just desperate enough that he might say yes.</p><p>(01:00:17):</p><p>Clearly.</p><p>(01:00:18):</p><p>I can’t believe these good drummers.</p><p>(01:00:20):</p><p>Clearly.</p><p>(01:00:21):</p><p>Because that’s the thing.</p><p>(01:00:22):</p><p>You actually asked, I think, every one of the other drummers that was playing at our church.</p><p>(01:00:27):</p><p>And then it was literally the one time I had played.</p><p>(01:00:31):</p><p>This guy.</p><p>(01:00:32):</p><p>He’s going nowhere.</p><p>(01:00:34):</p><p>I don’t know if we really talked about where my headspace was at.</p><p>(01:00:37):</p><p>I remember walking out of there feeling like garbage.</p><p>(01:00:41):</p><p>Absolute garbage.</p><p>(01:00:42):</p><p>It was a real bad experience.</p><p>(01:00:44):</p><p>It’s another podcast.</p><p>(01:00:47):</p><p>It’s something I still have a lot of resentment towards.</p><p>(01:00:50):</p><p>The people that were involved in some of those things.</p><p>(01:00:52):</p><p>I had always played the drums and been very...</p><p>(01:00:56):</p><p>I thought I was good, at least, you know, good enough to play in the venues that I did.</p><p>(01:00:59):</p><p>We were both living on islands.</p><p>(01:01:00):</p><p>We were both living on islands.</p><p>(01:01:02):</p><p>Both big fish and small pond.</p><p>(01:01:03):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(01:01:03):</p><p>and so then I go and I play this one time on a trial basis,</p><p>(01:01:06):</p><p>and it was very clearly communicated to me,</p><p>(01:01:10):</p><p>you do not have the gig.</p><p>(01:01:11):</p><p>Like, it was very clearly, you were only filling in, we do not want you doing this full time.</p><p>(01:01:17):</p><p>And I didn’t think it went particularly well.</p><p>(01:01:20):</p><p>I also thought it went well enough for me to not be treated that way.</p><p>(01:01:24):</p><p>I was in this weird headspace.</p><p>(01:01:25):</p><p>I got no positive feedback from anyone.</p><p>(01:01:28):</p><p>It was awful.</p><p>(01:01:29):</p><p>I walk out.</p><p>(01:01:30):</p><p>I didn’t know you at the time.</p><p>(01:01:33):</p><p>I knew who you were.</p><p>(01:01:35):</p><p>I knew of you.</p><p>(01:01:37):</p><p>You were in the band.</p><p>(01:01:38):</p><p>The band that I wanted to be in.</p><p>(01:01:39):</p><p>Playing the piano and stuff.</p><p>(01:01:41):</p><p>I remember walking out and you saying</p><p>(01:01:43):</p><p>You were talking to your little group of friends, probably Jacob, the videographer.</p><p>(01:01:48):</p><p>Yeah, probably Jacob.</p><p>(01:01:51):</p><p>You just literally went, hey, you ever thought about being in a band?</p><p>(01:01:53):</p><p>I was like,</p><p>(01:01:54):</p><p>Zacchaeus,</p><p>(01:01:55):</p><p>you come down,</p><p>(01:01:56):</p><p>because I’m coming to your house today,</p><p>(01:01:58):</p><p>is what I said,</p><p>(01:01:59):</p><p>I think.</p><p>(01:02:00):</p><p>You very much over-spiritualized the whole thing.</p><p>(01:02:02):</p><p>Yeah, it was weird.</p><p>(01:02:03):</p><p>But it was such a weird... For me, it was such...</p><p>(01:02:06):</p><p>I don’t know if I’ve ever told you how meaningful it was to me because I was just</p><p>(01:02:11):</p><p>in a bad spot and then you saying that was like really like this one guy who I</p><p>(01:02:16):</p><p>really respect and like at least musically I didn’t know if I knew respect to use a</p><p>(01:02:19):</p><p>person yet I hadn’t disappointed you not yet you’re very much on the fence</p><p>(01:02:25):</p><p>But the jury was very much out.</p><p>(01:02:27):</p><p>And then you just asked,</p><p>(01:02:29):</p><p>kind of sight unseen,</p><p>(01:02:30):</p><p>like this small little five song worship set where I got zero positive feedback</p><p>(01:02:34):</p><p>from anyone,</p><p>(01:02:35):</p><p>including the people that were kind of obligated by God to encourage me.</p><p>(01:02:39):</p><p>And then I was like, this dude wanted me to be in a band after this one thing.</p><p>(01:02:43):</p><p>And then I went and I remember you invited me and said,</p><p>(01:02:46):</p><p>hey,</p><p>(01:02:46):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(01:02:46):</p><p>you don’t got to commit to anything,</p><p>(01:02:47):</p><p>but come,</p><p>(01:02:47):</p><p>we’re doing this show.</p><p>(01:02:48):</p><p>And you called yourself Ben and Friends because- Oh, that’s what we never named.</p><p>(01:02:51):</p><p>You made it up.</p><p>(01:02:52):</p><p>I think you literally made it up.</p><p>(01:02:57):</p><p>It was like a real contender to be the name of the band for a while.</p><p>(01:03:00):</p><p>We’re like, let’s just go with that.</p><p>(01:03:01):</p><p>I forgot we didn’t have that.</p><p>(01:03:03):</p><p>We’d spent a long time figuring out the name.</p><p>(01:03:05):</p><p>I remember the conversation.</p><p>(01:03:06):</p><p>You did not want it to be your name and something else.</p><p>(01:03:10):</p><p>That was the whole thing.</p><p>(01:03:11):</p><p>I’ve always wanted that.</p><p>(01:03:13):</p><p>Which I think the name of our band was so cool.</p><p>(01:03:15):</p><p>It was cool.</p><p>(01:03:16):</p><p>You invited me.</p><p>(01:03:17):</p><p>I remember listening to the music being like, this is awesome.</p><p>(01:03:21):</p><p>Legitimately like, okay, I want to be a part of this.</p><p>(01:03:22):</p><p>I didn’t know anybody but you.</p><p>(01:03:24):</p><p>But just the total quality was definitely there.</p><p>(01:03:27):</p><p>I could tell you guys had something.</p><p>(01:03:29):</p><p>And then I go to the very first rehearsal, and that’s when Dan comes.</p><p>(01:03:32):</p><p>And I knew Dan from some engineering classes.</p><p>(01:03:35):</p><p>Oh, you already knew him?</p><p>(01:03:36):</p><p>I knew of him.</p><p>(01:03:37):</p><p>We had taken some classes.</p><p>(01:03:38):</p><p>He was a familiar face.</p><p>(01:03:39):</p><p>Jeez, I forgot about that.</p><p>(01:03:40):</p><p>And we did that thing where we both looked at each other and went like, hey, Chris?</p><p>(01:03:45):</p><p>Dan?</p><p>(01:03:45):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:03:47):</p><p>Teacher’s pet.</p><p>(01:03:47):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:03:49):</p><p>You’re the guy in the engineering classes with long hair.</p><p>(01:03:52):</p><p>Yeah, you’re the guy that talks too much.</p><p>(01:03:54):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:03:55):</p><p>And then it was just it was like it felt like if any musician that could probably</p><p>(01:03:59):</p><p>relate to that feeling just like it felt like like that lightning in a bottle kind</p><p>(01:04:02):</p><p>of thing like that that moment where just it just do you remember what Dan was</p><p>(01:04:06):</p><p>playing though he wasn’t playing bass you but it was discussed it was like yeah you</p><p>(01:04:10):</p><p>said well Dan or you or him or whatever it’s like Dan’s a really good guitar player</p><p>(01:04:15):</p><p>but we actually need a bass and Dan said</p><p>(01:04:17):</p><p>I kind of want to learn how to play the bass.</p><p>(01:04:18):</p><p>Right, he didn’t know how to play.</p><p>(01:04:19):</p><p>He never played.</p><p>(01:04:20):</p><p>He learned for the band.</p><p>(01:04:21):</p><p>Literally, I got a bass and learned how to play bass.</p><p>(01:04:23):</p><p>But I think about it because we actually have recordings from that first practice</p><p>(01:04:28):</p><p>where he’s playing electric guitar.</p><p>(01:04:29):</p><p>That’s the only time we ever had electric guitar in our band was in that practice that one time.</p><p>(01:04:33):</p><p>And it was kind of cool.</p><p>(01:04:34):</p><p>He did some different stuff.</p><p>(01:04:36):</p><p>It would have completely changed the sound, but we did need a bass.</p><p>(01:04:38):</p><p>And he ended up really bringing the bass.</p><p>(01:04:40):</p><p>The vibe would have been so much different.</p><p>(01:04:41):</p><p>Because if you listen to any of his, I mean, fans of the pod know...</p><p>(01:04:47):</p><p>speak loud and advocate recordings that I drop into without any plan whatsoever</p><p>(01:04:52):</p><p>drop them into random podcasts I mean yeah that stuff is so much different than the</p><p>(01:04:57):</p><p>Cavalier it’s not melodic I mean his stuff is like he’s so out there it’s like</p><p>(01:05:01):</p><p>weird and experimental I think he would describe it that way too versus like the</p><p>(01:05:05):</p><p>Cavaliers are like melodic and building and like dramatic dramatic yeah it was kind</p><p>(01:05:11):</p><p>of a cool band I’m not gonna lie like I had a lot of fun doing it I don’t need a</p><p>(01:05:15):</p><p>lie</p><p>(01:05:16):</p><p>It was like,</p><p>(01:05:17):</p><p>well,</p><p>(01:05:18):</p><p>it’s fun because in the end,</p><p>(01:05:19):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(01:05:20):</p><p>at first I was like,</p><p>(01:05:20):</p><p>oh,</p><p>(01:05:20):</p><p>this is going to all be my music,</p><p>(01:05:22):</p><p>but it wasn’t.</p><p>(01:05:22):</p><p>You know, Lucy wrote a good handful of the songs and even led some of the songs.</p><p>(01:05:29):</p><p>There was shared leadership and</p><p>(01:05:32):</p><p>Even our single was actually Lucy’s song.</p><p>(01:05:35):</p><p>And Dan really brought the bass on that.</p><p>(01:05:38):</p><p>And you brought the drums.</p><p>(01:05:39):</p><p>It was a lot of fun.</p><p>(01:05:41):</p><p>I learned so much through that experience.</p><p>(01:05:45):</p><p>But it was hard.</p><p>(01:05:46):</p><p>It’s just crazy.</p><p>(01:05:47):</p><p>You were the only married person.</p><p>(01:05:49):</p><p>I was the only married person when we started.</p><p>(01:05:51):</p><p>You were the band leader by far.</p><p>(01:05:52):</p><p>You were the person with all the connections to everything.</p><p>(01:05:55):</p><p>And I’m starting a business at the same time.</p><p>(01:05:57):</p><p>And I’m having my third kid.</p><p>(01:05:59):</p><p>I was just in the wrong time of life to be trying to do this thing.</p><p>(01:06:05):</p><p>It was hard.</p><p>(01:06:06):</p><p>I’m glad I did it, but I just learned a lot about my own limitations during that time.</p><p>(01:06:14):</p><p>I’m really proud of the music.</p><p>(01:06:15):</p><p>I think about it all the time.</p><p>(01:06:16):</p><p>I listen to the few recordings I have.</p><p>(01:06:20):</p><p>all the time.</p><p>(01:06:20):</p><p>I think they still sound so good.</p><p>(01:06:22):</p><p>That single sounds so good, Hide and Seek.</p><p>(01:06:27):</p><p>And it’s like, man.</p><p>(01:06:29):</p><p>So who knows?</p><p>(01:06:29):</p><p>Maybe someday.</p><p>(01:06:30):</p><p>It was a weird thing to be a part of and think,</p><p>(01:06:32):</p><p>like,</p><p>(01:06:33):</p><p>I had been in a lot of bands and known they were bad.</p><p>(01:06:35):</p><p>Like, I feel like that’s... Maybe you’ve never had that experience.</p><p>(01:06:38):</p><p>See, I never had that, really.</p><p>(01:06:39):</p><p>Worship bands, and I was in worship bands, especially in Hawaii, that were like</p><p>(01:06:44):</p><p>they were really rough again like I was in situations where I was young and the</p><p>(01:06:49):</p><p>best person on the band and I wasn’t that good like you know what I mean it was</p><p>(01:06:52):</p><p>like there was this one guy I don’t want to call him he’s probably passed away he</p><p>(01:06:56):</p><p>was older playing drums and it was the first drummer we ever had in our church in</p><p>(01:07:00):</p><p>Hawaii because we were very conservative and like drums were a little bit of the</p><p>(01:07:03):</p><p>devil yeah which I’m sure you’re very familiar with yeah they still are but he oh</p><p>(01:07:09):</p><p>poor guy I’ll never forget it what’s this the song is is it</p><p>(01:07:14):</p><p>He is exalted forever exalted.</p><p>(01:07:16):</p><p>Is that the one?</p><p>(01:07:17):</p><p>Oh lord, yeah.</p><p>(01:07:18):</p><p>But he did a completely different, it was Easter Sunday.</p><p>(01:07:21):</p><p>Yeah, because that’s a 6-8.</p><p>(01:07:22):</p><p>That’s a tricky tempo.</p><p>(01:07:23):</p><p>He just started doing a 4-4 tempo and we’re like, oh no, buddy.</p><p>(01:07:27):</p><p>Oh, no, buddy.</p><p>(01:07:28):</p><p>But it was one of those things where- It changes everything.</p><p>(01:07:33):</p><p>Trying to do the right thing.</p><p>(01:07:35):</p><p>Oh, it was a train wreck that never righted itself.</p><p>(01:07:39):</p><p>And it was Easter Sunday morning.</p><p>(01:07:41):</p><p>It was like I’m back there just like tears in my eyes.</p><p>(01:07:45):</p><p>Not from the Holy Spirit.</p><p>(01:07:46):</p><p>No, no, no, no, no.</p><p>(01:07:47):</p><p>This was bad.</p><p>(01:07:48):</p><p>And so like that was like the worst.</p><p>(01:07:51):</p><p>I went through some really rough stuff then.</p><p>(01:07:53):</p><p>But yeah, being in our band, it was a lot of fun.</p><p>(01:07:57):</p><p>We had a lot of fun.</p><p>(01:07:59):</p><p>Listening to the banter and some of the recordings, we were having a blast.</p><p>(01:08:03):</p><p>It was good music.</p><p>(01:08:04):</p><p>I think that’s a weird feeling for me, being in all these shitty screamo bands.</p><p>(01:08:10):</p><p>I can scream.</p><p>(01:08:11):</p><p>Do you want me to scream?</p><p>(01:08:13):</p><p>Not this time.</p><p>(01:08:14):</p><p>We’re already over an hour on this.</p><p>(01:08:15):</p><p>Oh gosh, yeah.</p><p>(01:08:16):</p><p>This is going to be a three-parter right here.</p><p>(01:08:18):</p><p>It is, yeah.</p><p>(01:08:20):</p><p>So, next time on</p><p>(01:08:23):</p><p>And we’re back.</p><p>(01:08:25):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(01:08:26):</p><p>it was like,</p><p>(01:08:26):</p><p>there was this moment,</p><p>(01:08:27):</p><p>like,</p><p>(01:08:28):</p><p>several times,</p><p>(01:08:28):</p><p>like,</p><p>(01:08:28):</p><p>where it’s like,</p><p>(01:08:29):</p><p>you know,</p><p>(01:08:30):</p><p>the cliches,</p><p>(01:08:30):</p><p>the pinch yourself moment,</p><p>(01:08:31):</p><p>but just like,</p><p>(01:08:32):</p><p>I remember being very aware,</p><p>(01:08:33):</p><p>like,</p><p>(01:08:33):</p><p>this is actually good.</p><p>(01:08:35):</p><p>Like, this is actually good.</p><p>(01:08:36):</p><p>Like, it’s something where, like, Thank you.</p><p>(01:08:38):</p><p>Well, I was a part of it.</p><p>(01:08:39):</p><p>I was a part of it, too.</p><p>(01:08:40):</p><p>Yeah, that’s true.</p><p>(01:08:41):</p><p>I’m saying, I was also good.</p><p>(01:08:43):</p><p>Oh, I thought you meant Ben and Friends.</p><p>(01:08:44):</p><p>Oh, yeah, Cavalier was fine, too.</p><p>(01:08:45):</p><p>No, I mean, you were fine, but me, too.</p><p>(01:08:47):</p><p>I wasn’t like, you know, I guess.</p><p>(01:08:49):</p><p>Hey, we have to say where the name came from, though.</p><p>(01:08:50):</p><p>Okay, the Cavalier.</p><p>(01:08:51):</p><p>The Cavalier.</p><p>(01:08:52):</p><p>Okay, you say it.</p><p>(01:08:53):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(01:08:53):</p><p>I mean,</p><p>(01:08:54):</p><p>so we started all the practices in my office in downtown Benson,</p><p>(01:09:00):</p><p>Nebraska,</p><p>(01:09:01):</p><p>which is this old historic area and this old historic building.</p><p>(01:09:06):</p><p>And at the time,</p><p>(01:09:08):</p><p>my office,</p><p>(01:09:09):</p><p>the Fruitful Design Office,</p><p>(01:09:11):</p><p>and the 402 Arts Collective,</p><p>(01:09:13):</p><p>they were kind of rehabbing this old building.</p><p>(01:09:15):</p><p>And in the building was this old barbershop called The Cavalier,</p><p>(01:09:19):</p><p>which,</p><p>(01:09:20):</p><p>in fact,</p><p>(01:09:20):</p><p>I don’t even know if you know this,</p><p>(01:09:21):</p><p>but my grandpa used to get his hair cut there.</p><p>(01:09:23):</p><p>So my grandpa,</p><p>(01:09:25):</p><p>my mom’s dad,</p><p>(01:09:26):</p><p>used to tell me stories about going to get his hair cut at the Cavalier when he was</p><p>(01:09:30):</p><p>younger.</p><p>(01:09:32):</p><p>But it had this cool</p><p>(01:09:34):</p><p>You know, painted sign of the Cavalier.</p><p>(01:09:37):</p><p>It was a giant mural on the side of this brick wall.</p><p>(01:09:39):</p><p>Yeah, on the side of the brick wall.</p><p>(01:09:40):</p><p>And so as we were like exploring different cool indie hipster sounding names,</p><p>(01:09:46):</p><p>this somehow made it on that list.</p><p>(01:09:48):</p><p>It was literally something where I remember we had a long list and then we’re all</p><p>(01:09:53):</p><p>like,</p><p>(01:09:53):</p><p>and the Cavalier wasn’t on it.</p><p>(01:09:55):</p><p>It was like we had the, you know, what’s the name of the band meeting?</p><p>(01:09:59):</p><p>and there’s this long list and you had like this you know note on your phone if</p><p>(01:10:02):</p><p>that technology existed yeah you’re using some hipster app um that was Evernote or</p><p>(01:10:07):</p><p>something yeah for something something that I didn’t know how to use uh and and</p><p>(01:10:11):</p><p>we’re like going on from we’re all just kind of like no not that wasn’t really</p><p>(01:10:14):</p><p>right it was literally I don’t know probably you but somebody just went what about</p><p>(01:10:17):</p><p>the Cavalier and we went yes yeah like it was like this weird moment where we’re</p><p>(01:10:21):</p><p>just like that is the name and it was like a movie and we had to keep on then we</p><p>(01:10:24):</p><p>had to fight everyone wanted to call us the Cavaliers which yeah oh yeah the</p><p>(01:10:28):</p><p>Clevelands</p><p>(01:10:28):</p><p>We’re only one.</p><p>(01:10:29):</p><p>There’s only one of us.</p><p>(01:10:31):</p><p>We’re a collective of the Cavalier.</p><p>(01:10:33):</p><p>The Cavalier.</p><p>(01:10:36):</p><p>We’re the Cavalier,</p><p>(01:10:37):</p><p>which was actually misleading because I’m pretty sure the mural just said Cavalier.</p><p>(01:10:41):</p><p>Yeah, it just said Cavalier, but people called it the Cavalier.</p><p>(01:10:43):</p><p>And that was at a time when everything I branded,</p><p>(01:10:45):</p><p>I put a the,</p><p>(01:10:46):</p><p>because there’s also the 402 Arts Collective,</p><p>(01:10:49):</p><p>which I’ve actually rebranded them as just 402 Arts Collective.</p><p>(01:10:52):</p><p>So I was putting the before.</p><p>(01:10:54):</p><p>I can’t believe I wasn’t the Fruitful Design.</p><p>(01:10:57):</p><p>I should have been.</p><p>(01:10:58):</p><p>You would have done a lot.</p><p>(01:10:59):</p><p>You probably wouldn’t be in your mom’s basement.</p><p>(01:11:00):</p><p>I probably wouldn’t.</p><p>(01:11:03):</p><p>I’d be in your basement.</p><p>(01:11:05):</p><p>Doing a podcast to zero listeners.</p><p>(01:11:09):</p><p>Well, yes, the recording contract, I remember you, so Benjamin Schaefer, does he go by Benjamin?</p><p>(01:11:14):</p><p>Yeah, sometimes we distinguish our names that way.</p><p>(01:11:16):</p><p>Okay, so Benjamin, that sounds business-y, not you.</p><p>(01:11:20):</p><p>Ben Schaefer, owner of the 402 Arts Collective, because it wasn’t rebanded.</p><p>(01:11:26):</p><p>He offered to pay for us to record an album, a full album, and we thought about it.</p><p>(01:11:32):</p><p>But at that time,</p><p>(01:11:33):</p><p>the momentum was kind of dying,</p><p>(01:11:35):</p><p>and we had actually tried to record on our own,</p><p>(01:11:38):</p><p>and it was literally just Dan,</p><p>(01:11:40):</p><p>our bass player,</p><p>(01:11:41):</p><p>and me doing the drum tracks.</p><p>(01:11:44):</p><p>We recorded all the drums.</p><p>(01:11:45):</p><p>Does that still exist?</p><p>(01:11:46):</p><p>Dan lost the files.</p><p>(01:11:49):</p><p>We recorded a few more of them.</p><p>(01:11:51):</p><p>I don’t know why we think you’re the loser in the band.</p><p>(01:11:53):</p><p>It’s really Dan for doing that.</p><p>(01:11:54):</p><p>I didn’t know we thought that about me.</p><p>(01:11:56):</p><p>I’m sorry.</p><p>(01:11:57):</p><p>Inside words.</p><p>(01:11:58):</p><p>Inside words.</p><p>(01:12:00):</p><p>I’ve known it was Dan.</p><p>(01:12:02):</p><p>You</p><p>(01:12:03):</p><p>So he loses the files.</p><p>(01:12:05):</p><p>And it’s like very classic Dan.</p><p>(01:12:07):</p><p>He’s like, I don’t know what happened.</p><p>(01:12:08):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(01:12:08):</p><p>I don’t know what happened.</p><p>(01:12:09):</p><p>I’m like, we spent a lot of time.</p><p>(01:12:11):</p><p>And it was a we thing.</p><p>(01:12:12):</p><p>It was a him and me.</p><p>(01:12:13):</p><p>So it wasn’t just me.</p><p>(01:12:14):</p><p>It was both of us.</p><p>(01:12:15):</p><p>And I know he spent time trying to tweak it and stuff.</p><p>(01:12:18):</p><p>Because I had like scratch tracks that you guys were playing with.</p><p>(01:12:20):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:12:21):</p><p>I mean, we had some stuff.</p><p>(01:12:22):</p><p>But we did the entire album on drums.</p><p>(01:12:25):</p><p>And it was a full 10 song album.</p><p>(01:12:26):</p><p>And then we’re like, maybe we’ll just do an EP.</p><p>(01:12:28):</p><p>I’m like, I already did the whole thing, guys.</p><p>(01:12:30):</p><p>and then he lost a bunch so we re-recorded them and then he’s lost them again like</p><p>(01:12:33):</p><p>I’ve asked him and he still doesn’t know where they are and then but around that</p><p>(01:12:36):</p><p>sad I’ve always like kind of like hoped that they still maybe I’m sure they still</p><p>(01:12:40):</p><p>do just Dan doesn’t know where they are doesn’t mean they don’t exist that’s true</p><p>(01:12:44):</p><p>so around that time Ben Schafer offers to pay to like I mean he and to clarify like</p><p>(01:12:49):</p><p>he owned the studio we were working at so it would have just been using the</p><p>(01:12:52):</p><p>equipment we’re already using and just having like more of an incentive to actually</p><p>(01:12:55):</p><p>do it and he paid for our single</p><p>(01:12:57):</p><p>Did he?</p><p>(01:12:58):</p><p>Yeah, he paid for our single.</p><p>(01:13:00):</p><p>Man, Chris, your memory is so freaking good.</p><p>(01:13:02):</p><p>Yeah, well, that was the highlight of my life.</p><p>(01:13:05):</p><p>And then come to the next part of the story.</p><p>(01:13:07):</p><p>And then we get offered this recording contract that was a real recording contract,</p><p>(01:13:11):</p><p>but not by a label,</p><p>(01:13:13):</p><p>by this guy that owned this nonprofit.</p><p>(01:13:15):</p><p>And you definitely did not want to take it.</p><p>(01:13:18):</p><p>I did, but we made a decision.</p><p>(01:13:21):</p><p>And it wasn’t just you either.</p><p>(01:13:22):</p><p>I think we were pretty split.</p><p>(01:13:24):</p><p>Yeah, I think it was like half and half.</p><p>(01:13:25):</p><p>It was very much half and half.</p><p>(01:13:26):</p><p>And I think I definitely understood why we did it.</p><p>(01:13:30):</p><p>And we already kind of explained just phase of life.</p><p>(01:13:32):</p><p>We were in a totally different phase of life than the rest of us.</p><p>(01:13:34):</p><p>But it was a weird thing because it was definitely a moment where we were part of</p><p>(01:13:40):</p><p>something that was really cool.</p><p>(01:13:41):</p><p>Right.</p><p>(01:13:42):</p><p>And then it was just like, all right, well, it was cool.</p><p>(01:13:45):</p><p>But there’s something else that we’re going to be doing now.</p><p>(01:13:48):</p><p>Not even like the grass is green or something else is better.</p><p>(01:13:50):</p><p>It’s going to come along.</p><p>(01:13:50):</p><p>Just like this cool thing is not going to happen.</p><p>(01:13:53):</p><p>It’s not going to happen.</p><p>(01:13:54):</p><p>And that doesn’t mean it wasn’t cool, but it’s just not going to happen.</p><p>(01:13:57):</p><p>And so I guess we’ll move on, you know?</p><p>(01:13:59):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:13:59):</p><p>It kind of sucked.</p><p>(01:14:00):</p><p>It does kind of suck, doesn’t it?</p><p>(01:14:02):</p><p>So to put you on the spot, so we’re going to start a new band.</p><p>(01:14:06):</p><p>Well, didn’t you guys, like some of you, continue to do a band for a second.</p><p>(01:14:09):</p><p>It was not very good.</p><p>(01:14:11):</p><p>What was it called?</p><p>(01:14:11):</p><p>It had a funny name.</p><p>(01:14:12):</p><p>Polar Bear Opposites.</p><p>(01:14:13):</p><p>Okay, I was like, it had a bear in it.</p><p>(01:14:14):</p><p>It wasn’t that it was bad.</p><p>(01:14:15):</p><p>It was just it was a bunch of us goofing around, you know?</p><p>(01:14:17):</p><p>Okay, okay.</p><p>(01:14:18):</p><p>So the theme song to this podcast is actually one of the Polar Bear Opposite recordings.</p><p>(01:14:22):</p><p>Is it really?</p><p>(01:14:23):</p><p>Yeah, if you listen to any As Told By C.S.</p><p>(01:14:26):</p><p>Beaty, Empire.</p><p>(01:14:27):</p><p>That’s Polar Bear.</p><p>(01:14:29):</p><p>Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.</p><p>(01:14:30):</p><p>I’ll play it right now in the edit.</p><p>(01:14:32):</p><p>See, now it’s going in the edit.</p><p>(01:14:34):</p><p>It’s going to be going.</p><p>(01:14:35):</p><p>This song.</p><p>(01:14:36):</p><p>And that’s Polar Bear Opposite.</p><p>(01:14:37):</p><p>That was one of the Polar Bear Opposite recordings.</p><p>(01:14:39):</p><p>We had this really long.</p><p>(01:14:40):</p><p>I guess it would be a bridge,</p><p>(01:14:44):</p><p>but that was back when Breakdowns were really cool,</p><p>(01:14:47):</p><p>which was like a hardcore bridge as a breakdown.</p><p>(01:14:49):</p><p>It wasn’t a breakdown, but it was just like, let’s have this long bridge.</p><p>(01:14:51):</p><p>We had a cool breakdown in Hide and Seek.</p><p>(01:14:52):</p><p>We did.</p><p>(01:14:53):</p><p>Yeah, that was the way the drums kicked in.</p><p>(01:14:55):</p><p>Yeah, that was so cool, dude.</p><p>(01:14:57):</p><p>Yep.</p><p>(01:14:57):</p><p>So anyways,</p><p>(01:14:58):</p><p>yeah,</p><p>(01:14:59):</p><p>so we did that for a little bit,</p><p>(01:15:00):</p><p>and then we just kind of all did,</p><p>(01:15:01):</p><p>like,</p><p>(01:15:02):</p><p>then I was the guy that went,</p><p>(01:15:03):</p><p>I’m actually going to start an MBA program,</p><p>(01:15:05):</p><p>so I don’t think I have time for this.</p><p>(01:15:07):</p><p>And then we’re like, aw.</p><p>(01:15:08):</p><p>And then I was the Ben Looters of the polar bear officers.</p><p>(01:15:14):</p><p>But that was a very it’s very different.</p><p>(01:15:15):</p><p>But the last time I saw and it’s funny,</p><p>(01:15:17):</p><p>like I still run into people from our band every once in a while.</p><p>(01:15:19):</p><p>But the last time I saw Lucy,</p><p>(01:15:21):</p><p>it was on her plane ride to move to San Diego,</p><p>(01:15:25):</p><p>which is this crazy.</p><p>(01:15:25):</p><p>What?</p><p>(01:15:26):</p><p>She was moving.</p><p>(01:15:27):</p><p>You have not told me that.</p><p>(01:15:28):</p><p>She was moving to California.</p><p>(01:15:29):</p><p>And you saw her on the plane?</p><p>(01:15:31):</p><p>On the plane while she was moving, which is wild.</p><p>(01:15:34):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:15:34):</p><p>And it was this craziest thing.</p><p>(01:15:35):</p><p>Like, it was like we did this.</p><p>(01:15:36):</p><p>I think it might even have been during COVID.</p><p>(01:15:37):</p><p>I think we might have had masks on.</p><p>(01:15:40):</p><p>So do you know it was her?</p><p>(01:15:42):</p><p>Yeah, we pieced it together.</p><p>(01:15:43):</p><p>We did the triple take, right?</p><p>(01:15:44):</p><p>Because it’s just the bridge to the nose up.</p><p>(01:15:47):</p><p>Yeah, would I recognize you if I just saw your creepy eyes?</p><p>(01:15:50):</p><p>Probably, because you look at pictures of me a lot.</p><p>(01:15:53):</p><p>That’s true, I do.</p><p>(01:15:55):</p><p>I hate to admit that.</p><p>(01:15:57):</p><p>Yeah, you made a lot of money off of that.</p><p>(01:15:59):</p><p>That’s true.</p><p>(01:16:01):</p><p>Exactly.</p><p>(01:16:02):</p><p>More money than I’ve made off of selling my book, I’ll say that.</p><p>(01:16:06):</p><p>Oh, man.</p><p>(01:16:08):</p><p>But yeah, I saw her.</p><p>(01:16:10):</p><p>It was a Southwest flight, so it was back when Southwest still made you the open space.</p><p>(01:16:15):</p><p>Oh yeah Which just recently changed Yeah so like she sat by In between my wife and</p><p>(01:16:19):</p><p>I And like we caught up And I don’t even remember Where Paige and I were going But</p><p>(01:16:24):</p><p>yeah she was on her way Like moving to California It was the craziest thing It was</p><p>(01:16:27):</p><p>so fun Yeah I think she still is But yeah it was so fun Seeing her for the first</p><p>(01:16:31):</p><p>time in years And just like This is a person that was like One of my closest</p><p>(01:16:35):</p><p>friends For that phase of life For that phase of life And now she’s you know Living</p><p>(01:16:38):</p><p>in a different country Country It might as well be Yeah California We don’t claim</p><p>(01:16:42):</p><p>California Not like We’re conservatives here Yeah</p><p>(01:16:45):</p><p>Well,</p><p>(01:16:46):</p><p>it’s funny,</p><p>(01:16:46):</p><p>because I also have...</p><p>(01:16:48):</p><p>You and I have been hanging out more and been working together more,</p><p>(01:16:51):</p><p>so that’s been fun for me.</p><p>(01:16:53):</p><p>But then also, I just randomly ran into Whitney over the weekend, Mother’s Day weekend.</p><p>(01:16:59):</p><p>And she’s a mom now.</p><p>(01:17:00):</p><p>She has several kids, and she had one of her kids.</p><p>(01:17:03):</p><p>It was so funny that me and my family ran into her.</p><p>(01:17:07):</p><p>And then she said...</p><p>(01:17:11):</p><p>That she just saw me the day before.</p><p>(01:17:13):</p><p>Yeah, and she had just seen you.</p><p>(01:17:14):</p><p>It was the first time I had seen her in weeks.</p><p>(01:17:16):</p><p>I think you were homeless asking for handouts or something.</p><p>(01:17:20):</p><p>It was a very low point in my life.</p><p>(01:17:22):</p><p>I was desperately asking anyone to buy my book, and no one did, so I gave Whitney a free copy.</p><p>(01:17:27):</p><p>You were on the side of the road asking if anyone could figure out how to use this</p><p>(01:17:31):</p><p>podcast equipment.</p><p>(01:17:32):</p><p>You’re just holding these cables.</p><p>(01:17:35):</p><p>It says USB-C is compatible.</p><p>(01:17:37):</p><p>It says it.</p><p>(01:17:39):</p><p>There’s all these YouTubers that say it’s so simple.</p><p>(01:17:41):</p><p>And you don’t even know this Chris but Monday night I don’t think you know this</p><p>(01:17:47):</p><p>Monday night I show up to Metro Community College to review graphic design</p><p>(01:17:51):</p><p>portfolios not even thinking about who else might be there but Erin Pilly was one</p><p>(01:17:58):</p><p>of the designers and I actually hadn’t seen so Erin worked for me for years but she</p><p>(01:18:03):</p><p>left and she worked at a bunch of other places and now she’s freelancing I haven’t</p><p>(01:18:06):</p><p>seen Erin in years</p><p>(01:18:08):</p><p>And it was so cool.</p><p>(01:18:09):</p><p>We talked and we’re going to be getting lunch this next week.</p><p>(01:18:11):</p><p>But it’s just kind of fun just thinking about all you guys and running into people</p><p>(01:18:16):</p><p>and seeing where people are at now.</p><p>(01:18:18):</p><p>Get the band back together.</p><p>(01:18:23):</p><p>So, all right.</p><p>(01:18:23):</p><p>So we’re,</p><p>(01:18:24):</p><p>I don’t even know how long my podcast is going to be yet,</p><p>(01:18:26):</p><p>but we’re at,</p><p>(01:18:26):</p><p>Bob’s was,</p><p>(01:18:27):</p><p>Uncle Bob’s episode is not this long.</p><p>(01:18:28):</p><p>All right.</p><p>(01:18:29):</p><p>So to wrap things up, a few important questions.</p><p>(01:18:32):</p><p>Who’s your favorite Power Ranger?</p><p>(01:18:34):</p><p>Oh my goodness.</p><p>(01:18:35):</p><p>I’m so sheltered, dude.</p><p>(01:18:36):</p><p>I wasn’t allowed to be in the Power Rangers.</p><p>(01:18:38):</p><p>All friends were into it and I thought they were like, like forest rangers.</p><p>(01:18:42):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(01:18:43):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:18:43):</p><p>I didn’t even know.</p><p>(01:18:44):</p><p>That explains the purity culture.</p><p>(01:18:46):</p><p>I would have liked whatever the T-Rex guy.</p><p>(01:18:48):</p><p>Is that Red?</p><p>(01:18:49):</p><p>Aren’t they all T-Rex?</p><p>(01:18:51):</p><p>Is there a guy named Jason?</p><p>(01:18:52):</p><p>I think.</p><p>(01:18:53):</p><p>If there is, we’ll go with it.</p><p>(01:18:55):</p><p>Okay.</p><p>(01:18:55):</p><p>Okay, so we should probably say something about your book.</p><p>(01:18:59):</p><p>Ben is the author of Escape from Terikiak.</p><p>(01:19:02):</p><p>I got a copy right here.</p><p>(01:19:03):</p><p>Oh my gosh, you just pulled it out.</p><p>(01:19:05):</p><p>He also has a shrine to my book right behind me.</p><p>(01:19:09):</p><p>You’re not supposed to say, oh my gosh, you just pulled it out without</p><p>(01:19:13):</p><p>So I do have one of the original prints of Escape from Tariqiak in my basement.</p><p>(01:19:22):</p><p>Alright, so I’m going to read a little bit of this.</p><p>(01:19:24):</p><p>Are you actually?</p><p>(01:19:25):</p><p>I should hire you to do the audiobook version of my book.</p><p>(01:19:28):</p><p>Alright, so this is from</p><p>(01:19:33):</p><p>I don’t even know how to say his last name because I don’t even know who that is</p><p>(01:19:36):</p><p>Nicholas Fredrickson</p><p>(01:19:57):</p><p>Jonah Gaffner and Ty Franklin I know Ty Naya Charlotte Wyatt Colburn Faye Amory</p><p>(01:20:04):</p><p>John Ryan and Calvin these aren’t even real names your editor who I know you’ve</p><p>(01:20:08):</p><p>never met because you’ve told me that and to the creator Jesus Christ are you</p><p>(01:20:12):</p><p>missing anyone from that list</p><p>(01:20:16):</p><p>I would thank you now.</p><p>(01:20:17):</p><p>You’ll probably be in the acknowledgments of the second book.</p><p>(01:20:21):</p><p>Okay, good.</p><p>(01:20:21):</p><p>You weren’t as involved in my life at that time.</p><p>(01:20:24):</p><p>Just because I wasn’t asked.</p><p>(01:20:26):</p><p>But I will say, kidding aside, thanks for agreeing to put my kids in the next book.</p><p>(01:20:29):</p><p>They are super excited about it.</p><p>(01:20:32):</p><p>And I understand you have a big announcement about book two.</p><p>(01:20:35):</p><p>I am working on book two.</p><p>(01:20:37):</p><p>And it’s coming out.</p><p>(01:20:38):</p><p>You’re going to say that right now on this podcast.</p><p>(01:20:40):</p><p>It’s ready</p><p>(01:20:41):</p><p>Dude I want to I do really good with like firm deadlines and when I don’t have one</p><p>(01:20:46):</p><p>it’s so much harder for me to deliver and so like there’s the part of me that’s</p><p>(01:20:50):</p><p>like dude Ben just say that it’s coming out like the first of the year or something</p><p>(01:20:55):</p><p>like that like I could do it like I’m almost done with the first draft a little bit</p><p>(01:21:01):</p><p>of editing I gotta do the illustrations but like I actually really do like it I</p><p>(01:21:06):</p><p>think it’s a better I think it’s gonna be a better more interesting book than the</p><p>(01:21:09):</p><p>first one</p><p>(01:21:10):</p><p>And um yeah more interesting it does some interesting stuff I’m excited about it</p><p>(01:21:15):</p><p>but like with all the stuff going on with my business right now and living in my</p><p>(01:21:19):</p><p>parents basement it’s just been like uh it’s been on the back burner so I need I</p><p>(01:21:24):</p><p>need to focus on it okay well we’re gonna turn that heat up I should hire you to</p><p>(01:21:28):</p><p>finish it man you’re like you are so like prolific when you come to like</p><p>(01:21:33):</p><p>Dude, you’re able to crank stuff out.</p><p>(01:21:36):</p><p>I cannot keep up with the output that you do.</p><p>(01:21:39):</p><p>Yeah, clearly, because you’ve never liked anything.</p><p>(01:21:41):</p><p>No, I don’t.</p><p>(01:21:42):</p><p>I mean, I can’t even keep up with...</p><p>(01:21:44):</p><p>I can’t even pretend to like all the stuff that you do.</p><p>(01:21:47):</p><p>And you don’t.</p><p>(01:21:48):</p><p>You don’t even try.</p><p>(01:21:50):</p><p>Neither does anyone else.</p><p>(01:21:51):</p><p>Uncle Bob’s a big fan, because he’s done about three quarters of the content.</p><p>(01:21:55):</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>(01:21:58):</p><p>Yeah so I actually made the mistake I’m writing a book with my aunt and I made the</p><p>(01:22:03):</p><p>mistake of reading some of it a little bit ago and I went this is really boring so</p><p>(01:22:07):</p><p>now I’m actually like very depressed about it.</p><p>(01:22:09):</p><p>Are you really?</p><p>(01:22:10):</p><p>I mean not overall like the project is like I know I know the content’s good you</p><p>(01:22:14):</p><p>know like I know the content’s really good but I had this moment where I’m reading</p><p>(01:22:17):</p><p>some of it thinking like it’s just not there yet and I think like I don’t know if</p><p>(01:22:21):</p><p>you ever felt that way it’s like writing stuff it’s like</p><p>(01:22:24):</p><p>It’s not there.</p><p>(01:22:25):</p><p>I think it will be there.</p><p>(01:22:25):</p><p>I don’t know how it’s going to get there.</p><p>(01:22:27):</p><p>And it’s just like this crushing feeling of, oh boy.</p><p>(01:22:31):</p><p>I thought I would nail it on the first draft.</p><p>(01:22:33):</p><p>It would be perfect.</p><p>(01:22:34):</p><p>And I could just make a million dollars.</p><p>(01:22:37):</p><p>and I guess that’s not how it works see that’s funny like I mean gosh yeah Chris</p><p>(01:22:44):</p><p>Beaty wrote a book called Loser C.S.</p><p>(01:22:46):</p><p>Beaty C.S.</p><p>(01:22:47):</p><p>Beaty oh I’m so sorry I keep on getting so casual with you Clive Staples Beaty</p><p>(01:22:51):</p><p>Clive Staples Beaty wrote a book called Loser but like it’s so funny you’re such a</p><p>(01:22:57):</p><p>freaking good writer and all the stuff that I do read which has only been like two</p><p>(01:23:00):</p><p>things you’ve ever posted you’re really a really good writer</p><p>(01:23:05):</p><p>But like, yeah, I’ve had that feeling before where like, either, I’ve had it both ways.</p><p>(01:23:10):</p><p>I’ve had it ways where I’m like, oh man, this is going to be awesome.</p><p>(01:23:14):</p><p>And then I go back to it, I’m like, what was I smoking?</p><p>(01:23:17):</p><p>Like, what is, oh, we’ve got a long way to go or no one can ever know about this.</p><p>(01:23:22):</p><p>And then I had the other way where I’m like,</p><p>(01:23:23):</p><p>gosh,</p><p>(01:23:24):</p><p>this thing,</p><p>(01:23:25):</p><p>I was feeling about,</p><p>(01:23:25):</p><p>I was feeling this way about book two.</p><p>(01:23:28):</p><p>Because I’d gotten out of it for a while.</p><p>(01:23:29):</p><p>I’m like, does this even make sense?</p><p>(01:23:32):</p><p>What the crap?</p><p>(01:23:33):</p><p>No one’s going to care.</p><p>(01:23:34):</p><p>It’s all so... And then I started from the beginning and started rereading it.</p><p>(01:23:38):</p><p>I’m like,</p><p>(01:23:39):</p><p>Okay, this is actually pretty good.</p><p>(01:23:42):</p><p>I’m getting back into it.</p><p>(01:23:43):</p><p>It’s not there yet.</p><p>(01:23:45):</p><p>There’s some things that need to be cleaned up.</p><p>(01:23:47):</p><p>Particularly,</p><p>(01:23:48):</p><p>I’m dealing with multiple timelines and following more characters in the next book.</p><p>(01:23:54):</p><p>While I was writing it, I was confusing myself.</p><p>(01:23:58):</p><p>That’s not easy at all.</p><p>(01:24:01):</p><p>I’m like, okay, I’ve got to untangle some of this, but I think I recently...</p><p>(01:24:05):</p><p>By C.S.</p><p>(01:24:05):</p><p>Beaty C.S.</p><p>(01:24:07):</p><p>Beaty C.S.</p><p>(01:24:07):</p><p>Beaty C.S.</p><p>(01:24:07):</p><p>Beaty C.S.</p><p>(01:24:08):</p><p>Beaty C.S.</p><p>(01:24:08):</p><p>Beaty C.S.</p><p>(01:24:08):</p><p>Beaty C.S.</p><p>(01:24:24):</p><p>You’re an interesting writer I mean I mainly just read your book but like you know</p><p>(01:24:29):</p><p>it’s like obviously it’s like you’re telling true stories and it’s autobiographical</p><p>(01:24:33):</p><p>obviously but you know you have this like ability Chris of like the balance of</p><p>(01:24:39):</p><p>obviously the humor and</p><p>(01:24:41):</p><p>The humor and the heart you know like you’re able to tell these these things and</p><p>(01:24:46):</p><p>there’s there’s things that you deal with in the book too that are really yeah</p><p>(01:24:51):</p><p>powerful and poignant and you deal with serious stuff but then you also have this</p><p>(01:24:55):</p><p>like I don’t know it’s just such a cool balance that you have whereas like I don’t</p><p>(01:25:02):</p><p>know writing a fiction book I’d be interested to see you try to write like a</p><p>(01:25:05):</p><p>fiction I don’t know if I can well I</p><p>(01:25:07):</p><p>If you’ve written some fiction, you would know if you actually read your newsletters.</p><p>(01:25:12):</p><p>It is a different part of the brain.</p><p>(01:25:13):</p><p>And that’s part of what I’m struggling about writing.</p><p>(01:25:15):</p><p>The next episode,</p><p>(01:25:16):</p><p>you should just have me on and force me to read all the stuff that you’re always...</p><p>(01:25:19):</p><p>Man,</p><p>(01:25:20):</p><p>you’re...</p><p>(01:25:20):</p><p>Again,</p><p>(01:25:20):</p><p>you’re so prolific,</p><p>(01:25:21):</p><p>dude.</p><p>(01:25:21):</p><p>You post so much stuff.</p><p>(01:25:23):</p><p>I wish I had that much in me.</p><p>(01:25:25):</p><p>Yeah, well, I wish I did too.</p><p>(01:25:28):</p><p>But it is different.</p><p>(01:25:29):</p><p>So I’m writing...</p><p>(01:25:30):</p><p>The book that I’m writing now is very different because I’m writing about my aunt</p><p>(01:25:33):</p><p>and I’m trying to</p><p>(01:25:34):</p><p>By C.S.</p><p>(01:25:35):</p><p>Beaty</p><p>(01:25:49):</p><p>And I just kind of got very discouraged because I just read a list of facts because</p><p>(01:25:52):</p><p>that’s what it was.</p><p>(01:25:53):</p><p>I was taking all this information.</p><p>(01:25:54):</p><p>You can come and embellish that later, right?</p><p>(01:25:56):</p><p>Absolutely.</p><p>(01:25:56):</p><p>And that’s the thing.</p><p>(01:25:57):</p><p>AI can do that.</p><p>(01:25:57):</p><p>I know.</p><p>(01:25:58):</p><p>And it’s like, all I need to do is put it in chat GPT and it’ll be fixed.</p><p>(01:26:02):</p><p>But it’s just, when stuff’s not perfect the first time, it’s just very frustrating.</p><p>(01:26:05):</p><p>So anyways, I’ve gotten over that a little bit.</p><p>(01:26:08):</p><p>And yeah, thanks for making the last part of the podcast about me.</p><p>(01:26:12):</p><p>That’s the goal, man.</p><p>(01:26:13):</p><p>That’s the goal.</p><p>(01:26:14):</p><p>All right, Ben, any other parting thoughts before?</p><p>(01:26:17):</p><p>I do have a gift for you.</p><p>(01:26:18):</p><p>Oh, no.</p><p>(01:26:19):</p><p>So as the honorary podcast guest, you have your pick.</p><p>(01:26:24):</p><p>So you can either take the collector’s series DVD of Jumanji or the regular DVD of</p><p>(01:26:30):</p><p>Jumanji because I accidentally bought two.</p><p>(01:26:33):</p><p>Not knowing that we already had one.</p><p>(01:26:34):</p><p>So you can pick one.</p><p>(01:26:35):</p><p>It’s the Robin Williams version of Jumanji.</p><p>(01:26:37):</p><p>Right.</p><p>(01:26:38):</p><p>I’ve not seen the new Jumanji.</p><p>(01:26:41):</p><p>Were you allowed to watch this as a kid?</p><p>(01:26:42):</p><p>So that’s the funny thing.</p><p>(01:26:43):</p><p>I did not watch this as a kid and I didn’t know why.</p><p>(01:26:45):</p><p>I was like, this is about animals, whatever.</p><p>(01:26:48):</p><p>Then I watched it.</p><p>(01:26:48):</p><p>I’ve only watched this one time and I think it was as an adult and been like,</p><p>(01:26:53):</p><p>oh,</p><p>(01:26:53):</p><p>I couldn’t have handled this.</p><p>(01:26:54):</p><p>Oh, yeah.</p><p>(01:26:55):</p><p>It’s freaking scary.</p><p>(01:26:56):</p><p>Because I tried showing it to Jonah, my oldest son, a few years ago.</p><p>(01:26:59):</p><p>Well, it was more than a few.</p><p>(01:27:01):</p><p>He was probably like seven or eight.</p><p>(01:27:03):</p><p>We started it.</p><p>(01:27:04):</p><p>Does someone start getting sucked into the game right in the beginning?</p><p>(01:27:07):</p><p>The very first thing is Robin Williams’ character gets sucked into a jungle and</p><p>(01:27:12):</p><p>he’s lost forever.</p><p>(01:27:13):</p><p>Yeah, yeah, yeah.</p><p>(01:27:14):</p><p>His entire family thinks he’s dead.</p><p>(01:27:16):</p><p>I was like, oh, I can’t even handle this.</p><p>(01:27:19):</p><p>No, it is a messed up movie.</p><p>(01:27:22):</p><p>Ever since then, I really want to re-watch it.</p><p>(01:27:25):</p><p>I’m actually pretty excited about this.</p><p>(01:27:27):</p><p>I’m kind of old school with the DVDs.</p><p>(01:27:28):</p><p>What are the differences between these?</p><p>(01:27:30):</p><p>I have no idea.</p><p>(01:27:30):</p><p>I bought one after I didn’t realize anything.</p><p>(01:27:33):</p><p>Which one has the least amount of scratches on the actual DVD?</p><p>(01:27:36):</p><p>Well, you can see I left the $1 tag.</p><p>(01:27:39):</p><p>Shout out to the Omaha Public Library Friends of the Library sale where I get all my DVDs.</p><p>(01:27:44):</p><p>This one’s in good shape.</p><p>(01:27:47):</p><p>Which one’s worth more on eBay?</p><p>(01:27:49):</p><p>Well, that one is literally $1 according to the Omaha Library.</p><p>(01:27:54):</p><p>Let me see.</p><p>(01:27:55):</p><p>This is collector series.</p><p>(01:27:58):</p><p>I’m going with the collectors because that sounds really fancy and you know me I’m</p><p>(01:28:01):</p><p>a little on the fancier side I’m excited to watch this dude okay well next time</p><p>(01:28:07):</p><p>when we have you for the next guest you can tell me tell me if you held up about</p><p>(01:28:12):</p><p>Jumanji if you’re allowed to watch it now that I’m living in my parents basement I</p><p>(01:28:17):</p><p>may have to ask them before I can play this you probably should ask for permission</p><p>(01:28:22):</p><p>Honestly, it might be.</p><p>(01:28:23):</p><p>I’m looking at literally your Terikiak cover and the Jumanji cover.</p><p>(01:28:26):</p><p>It’s like the same thing.</p><p>(01:28:27):</p><p>And also the Jumanji cover is clearly a ripoff of the Jurassic Park cover.</p><p>(01:28:33):</p><p>Google that.</p><p>(01:28:34):</p><p>We don’t have a video podcast.</p><p>(01:28:35):</p><p>Google the Jumanji cover and then the Jurassic Park gate.</p><p>(01:28:39):</p><p>It is definitely like... Yeah, it’s inspired.</p><p>(01:28:41):</p><p>I mean,</p><p>(01:28:41):</p><p>it’s supposed to be like the board with a rhino running through it,</p><p>(01:28:44):</p><p>but it’s definitely...</p><p>(01:28:44):</p><p>Can I see this one here?</p><p>(01:28:46):</p><p>The funny thing about mine is like...</p><p>(01:28:49):</p><p>Jumanji and Jumanji twice on it.</p><p>(01:28:51):</p><p>Oh, totally.</p><p>(01:28:52):</p><p>Again, how is this not a video podcast?</p><p>(01:28:54):</p><p>Because it’s the collector’s edition.</p><p>(01:28:56):</p><p>It’s the collector’s, so they have the air.</p><p>(01:28:58):</p><p>It definitely is a Jumanji Jumanji there.</p><p>(01:29:00):</p><p>Jumanji Jumanji.</p><p>(01:29:02):</p><p>That’s the name of this podcast.</p><p>(01:29:05):</p><p>All right.</p><p>(01:29:06):</p><p>And on this note, I’m reading your inscription to you.</p><p>(01:29:09):</p><p>Oh, no.</p><p>(01:29:10):</p><p>Paige, thanks so much for your encouragement.</p><p>(01:29:12):</p><p>He made this out to my wife.</p><p>(01:29:14):</p><p>Also,</p><p>(01:29:15):</p><p>if you’re curious,</p><p>(01:29:16):</p><p>this is my daughter has her bookmark in your book and she stopped reading in</p><p>(01:29:19):</p><p>chapter five,</p><p>(01:29:22):</p><p>the waves.</p><p>(01:29:23):</p><p>Seven, I think is where I tell people it gets good.</p><p>(01:29:26):</p><p>You gotta get through the doldrums.</p><p>(01:29:27):</p><p>Yeah, you gotta, when’s the, yeah, talking about, I’m</p><p>(01:29:36):</p><p>This is not going to be a writing podcast.</p><p>(01:29:38):</p><p>We can’t even describe our own book.</p><p>(01:29:40):</p><p>Yeah, we don’t need the terminology.</p><p>(01:29:42):</p><p>I will say in the second book, one of the good things is it just – yeah, there’s no buildup.</p><p>(01:29:46):</p><p>It just starts in action.</p><p>(01:29:48):</p><p>In media race.</p><p>(01:29:50):</p><p>The moment this book ends, it just starts immediately there from a different vantage point.</p><p>(01:29:57):</p><p>So it’s kind of fun.</p><p>(01:29:57):</p><p>In that way, there’s not the buildup of –</p><p>(01:30:00):</p><p>You don’t have to introduce the characters in the same way,</p><p>(01:30:02):</p><p>but you have to have a little bit of a recap.</p><p>(01:30:05):</p><p>Remind myself who the characters are.</p><p>(01:30:07):</p><p>It’s interesting writing.</p><p>(01:30:10):</p><p>I’ve never really written a book until now,</p><p>(01:30:12):</p><p>but writing a series of books is interesting because so much of the first book</p><p>(01:30:18):</p><p>was...</p><p>(01:30:18):</p><p>We should probably wrap this up because apparently it’s raining pretty hard and</p><p>(01:30:21):</p><p>your trunk is open.</p><p>(01:30:22):</p><p>My trunk is open?</p><p>(01:30:23):</p><p>Yeah, according to my wife.</p><p>(01:30:25):</p><p>Seriously?</p><p>(01:30:25):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(01:30:25):</p><p>That’s what she said.</p><p>(01:30:26):</p><p>Why would it be open?</p><p>(01:30:27):</p><p>I don’t know.</p><p>(01:30:28):</p><p>Is someone breaking into it?</p><p>(01:30:29):</p><p>I guess so.</p><p>(01:30:29):</p><p>What is this neighborhood?</p><p>(01:30:30):</p><p>Yeah, well, it’s just apparently you got a lot of sweat.</p><p>(01:30:35):</p><p>Podcast equipment in the back.</p><p>(01:30:40):</p><p>Anyways, finish your book and then we’ll call it good and you can close your trunk.</p><p>(01:30:44):</p><p>Yeah, what the heck?</p><p>(01:30:45):</p><p>She can close the trunk.</p><p>(01:30:47):</p><p>I swear I didn’t open it.</p><p>(01:30:48):</p><p>Yeah,</p><p>(01:30:49):</p><p>I was just going to say the fun part about writing a sequel to a book is that so</p><p>(01:30:55):</p><p>much of the first book was just trying to figure out who are these characters,</p><p>(01:30:57):</p><p>what is this place,</p><p>(01:30:58):</p><p>where the world building is like there’s so much time in that and then the second</p><p>(01:31:01):</p><p>book is like oh,</p><p>(01:31:02):</p><p>we’re already set up.</p><p>(01:31:04):</p><p>It’s just like</p><p>(01:31:05):</p><p>There’s further world building, but it’s a very different process.</p><p>(01:31:10):</p><p>I recommend, write a sequel to Loser.</p><p>(01:31:13):</p><p>My world building was easy.</p><p>(01:31:15):</p><p>It was, imagine your high school is the same as every other high school.</p><p>(01:31:18):</p><p>That’s kind of what I was going for.</p><p>(01:31:20):</p><p>I did have a lot of Grand Island anecdotes, but that’s also any small town, I think.</p><p>(01:31:26):</p><p>And on that note, buy my book.</p><p>(01:31:40):</p><p>Interesting People is produced by Chris Beaty in his basement.</p><p>(01:31:44):</p><p>A very special thanks to Ben Luters for being my first guest and my good friend.</p><p>(01:31:49):</p><p>You should definitely buy a thousand copies of his book Escape from Terikiak</p><p>(01:31:52):</p><p>because it’s fantastic.</p><p>(01:31:54):</p><p>And hey this is a brand new thing but I have a ton of fun people who have agreed to</p><p>(01:31:58):</p><p>talk to me about their interesting lives and</p><p>(01:32:00):</p><p>Please subscribe and such and do all that thing and seriously I’m really excited</p><p>(01:32:04):</p><p>about what’s to come.</p><p>(01:32:05):</p><p>It’s going to be a lot of fun.</p><p>(01:32:07):</p><p>Signing off from the greatest city on earth, Omaha, Nebraska.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/interesting-people-author-and-illustrator</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:198881479</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty and Ben Lueders]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 26 May 2026 10:02:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/198881479/e80aaaa307b0bfb2e98db0fb187bcf72.mp3" length="88515006" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty and Ben Lueders</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>5532</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/198881479/d8bf544476984a0ff4ad14389665bac8.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[Letters to Haywood Fudd: Gift Giving ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p></p><p>December 19th, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Fudd,</p><p>The innards of my Royal Quiet DeLuxe typewriter have been sprayed down with a fresh coat of WD-40 and the little baby is purring like a kitten. I told my 85 year-old Uncle Bob about the WD-40, and he informed me that WD-40 stands for “water displacement formula 40.” I’m not sure how effective the first 39 formulas were, but I’m glad they kept at it.</p><p>I am eager for a resolution to your literary stunt toward Mr. Saddlemayer. I’ve never listened to KFAB, but I do have a podcast where Uncle Bob talks about growing up in Wahoo, NE. I suspect it’s similar. If you ever wish to record any dispatches to broadcast to my 108 subscribers, you have an open invitation. They’re mostly Bob’s elderly friends and the Saunders County Museum curator.</p><p>My family is nearly there with the Christmas anticipation. One of our traditions is to buy my mother anything having to do with reindeer poop. It all started with a single greeting card and jelly bean dispenser purchased by my brother many Christmases ago, and like any younger brother, I latched onto the idea and annoyed my entire family with it. The trouble is, we’ve started running out of pooping reindeer options so now any poop related gift will suffice.</p><p></p><p>Yours,</p><p>C.S. Beaty</p><p>Shortly after Haywood sent me a spiral-bound compilation of his letters to the residents of Bliss, Idaho, I sent him my own compilation of unedited essays I wrote on a typewriter. I still write a first draft of everything on one of seven functional typewriters I have in my possession, but now I go back and edit those to make them suck less. Back then I didn’t bother with that step. There was a therapeutic element to watching the typewriter keys hit the page and feeling that the message was in a permanent state. I didn’t need to edit, it just was. It was what it was, with all its grammatical errors and formatting foibles. Like a person, whatever version was birthed was the version it was going to be. It was poetic to me. And it turns out most of what I wrote on the first draft was pretty much what I intended to put down in the first place.</p><p>Now that I write more frequently, I’ve added a few steps to my writing process. I dictate all of my typewritten pages into a word doc and attempt that painstaking process of combing out all the clunky phrases and red squiggles to present myself in a more polished manner. It feels necessary, but I don’t like it. There’s a heart in the imperfection that stops beating once they’re operated on. And back in my early essays, I needed all the life I could get to keep my writing ambitions from flatlining.</p><p>For the 2023 and 2024 Christmases, I printed off all my typewritten essays from those years and bound them as family Christmas presents. Most of the feedback was a shot in the arm and led me to believe I was onto something with my writing. My raw observation and over-sharing were met with support and encouragement, but most of that feedback was from people who should probably feel obligated to give it. After all I was their son, brother, son-in-law, or friend that you stopped talking to since then. They should be on my side, even if they didn’t actually read anything until I forced a copy in their hand and scheduled a coffee date for the hour-and-a-half they were in town to attend a funeral for someone they barely knew. But I hadn’t really branched into letting strangers read what I had written, at least not until I’d mailed the 2024 version to my new pen pal.</p><p>Who not only read it, but wrote me four separate book reports on the topic.</p><p>But first, he had some updates of his own he needed to share with me.</p><p></p><p>January 22nd, 2025</p><p>Dear Mr. Beaty,</p><p>Following is the latest news from West-West Omaha for your mindfulness:</p><p>* Cleeve Happ, 66, of Dunbar, Neb., wrote the Royal Canadian Mounted Police last week to inquire about becoming an honorary member. Cleeve has firewood and rabbits for sale.</p><p>* Paisleigh Halix, 78, of Firth, Neb., has been square dancing for nigh on 70 years. The only time Paisleigh didn’t square dance with ungoverned pizzazz was when she was in the family way back in 1973, 1974 and again in 1975.</p><p>* Persephone Hulls, 74, of De Witt, Neb., randomly informs family, friends and strangers that she’s completely naked underneath her clothes. The over the fence scuttlebutt is Persephone was a real looker back in her day.</p><p>* Ennis Nichols, 78, of Ceresco, Neb., refers to German people as “Jerries” because that’s what his pop called Germans when Ennis was a whipper snapper.</p><p>* Pace Tatum, 71, of Beemer, Neb., creates make-believe traffic jams in Beemer that he phones into KTIC 840 AM. Pace has a make-believe dog named Queenie that he religiously walks in the morning and the afternoon.</p><p>* Arlie Kustda, 69, of Weston, Neb., is prone to buttonholing strangers to ask if they have any money they don’t want.</p><p>* Moses Alder, 65, of Davey, Neb., remains devilishly suspicious that a baker’s dozen is, in fact, thirteen. Moses testifies the reason for his suspicion is that his dad drummed into him to never bet another man’s game.</p><p>* Eugene Cyril, 68, of Marquette, Neb., bought his first gorilla suit at age 65. “I’m late to the party but I’m working overtime to catch up,” testified Eugene who was charged twice in 2024 was setting fire to his mailbox.</p><p>* Harry Heritage, 70, of Garland, Neb., rolls his own cigarettes and instead of using tobacco he uses catnip.</p><p>* Dick Weizner, 64, of Firth, Neb., has commissioned a chainsaw artist to carve a totem pole out of the eighteen foot high stump in his front yard. The chainsaw artist promised he would begin carving the totem pole next Tuesday after lunch.</p><p></p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>Haywood Fudd</p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/letters-to-haywood-fudd-gift-giving</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:197381364</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 19 May 2026 10:30:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/197381364/567ef6e2f7a20a3920e04a776bde6113.mp3" length="10686618" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>534</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/197381364/3ade338eb3d0dd3181fca5566cd18b4c.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[Update on my Biography of Nomadland Star Swankie]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>How could a vagabond woman who lived in her van end up a co-star to Frances McDormand in the blockbuster 2020 Academy Award-winning hit <em>Nomadland? </em>And whose transitory existence provides valuable life lessons on surviving – and thriving – in today’s world?</p><p>That’s the opening line of the query letter I wrote to send to literary agents—well it’s what my editor wrote and I slightly tweaked. Pretty good, right?</p><p>My aunt and I have been working on her biography for almost a year now. We’ve made it through the first thirty years of her life and so far, it’s really damn good.</p><p>Even before my aunt became a nomad and starred in an Oscar-winning movie, her life was captivating. She was born in 1944 in Indiana to a Christian Scientist mother who denied her any modern medical care. She suffered from chronic migraines throughout her life but wasn’t permitted painkillers as a child. Her father walked out on the family while she was an infant, leaving her with a deep longing for a parental bond that she never found. While in high school, her mother moved in with a boyfriend and Charlene stayed behind in their family home, living alone for the duration of her senior year. After high school graduation, Charlene traveled alone by bus from Indiana to South Dakota to locate her father, not telling him she was coming until she was at the bus station before her final stop. When she met her father, she was also introduced to five half-siblings who had no knowledge of her existence until that moment. Including my own father. After living in South Dakota for a few months, her stepmother chased her out and Charlene moved back to Indiana to begin college. During that time, she fell in love, dropped out of school, married a CIA agent, moved to Iran, and gave birth to her second son in a Tehran hospital. While later living in Liberia, the couple experienced marriage trouble. Charlene returned to the United States alone, got a divorce, started a commune, worked as a nanny for an abusive man with post-traumatic stress disorder, became a summer camp counselor, and moved to Colorado for college. And that just brings us to 1974. She hasn’t even become a nomad yet and certainly hasn’t starred in any movies.</p><p>This process has been quite a bit different from when I wrote my first book. The biggest difference, is I have a partner. My Aunt Swankie is acting as my research assistant. She has spent most days when she’s not on the road actively cataloging boxes of old journals, letters, and family records for salient life events and sending me relevant documents to form the narrative. Despite being her nephew, Swankie and I never interacted until 2025 when we began working together. Because I didn’t know her until we began this project, I have an objective perspective but am admittedly searching for a familial connection of my own. We communicate every day and our growing relationship has already made this project worth it.</p><p>The other difference is that I’m actually trying to find a publisher. The world of writing books is in a weird place. Amazon and other print-on-demand services have made it so you can ignore all these ivory tower New Yorkers who run the book world, and it’s very popular for all us “indie” authors to s**t on those people because we’re the artists and they’re the suits. Well, after trying out the self-published route for my memoir, it turns out there may be some perks to getting someone who actually knows what they’re doing to help. So I’m trying to do that with my aunt’s story.</p><p>But here’s the thing, agents and publishers have one goal: to sell books. I mean they would love to discover the next <em>To Kill a Mockingbird,</em> they’re not bad people, but they have jobs. And jobs are supposed to pay you money. And to get money, people need to want to buy your books. Which means that even if you have the next <em>To Kill a Mockingbird,</em> it doesn’t help if no one wants to read it. And it’s really, really hard to tell people <em>“hey trust me, you’ve never heard of this author, but he’s like really great. Easily $25 for a new hard cover great. Go ahead just buy it.” </em>So that means, I have to try to convince these people that people want to read (and…sorry…pay for) this book about my aunt. And the easiest way to do that is with statistics.</p><p>Which means, if you want to help Swankie’s story get the attention of these book people, there are some things you can do. And I’m sorry, it’s going to sound very self-serving to me. Because they are. There’s really no way around it. Here’s my desperate cry for help:</p><p>* Publishers want to know that an author has a track record of selling books. Which means, it would be really helpful if I sold some copies of my current book <em>Loser*: A Survival Guide to High School Popularity. </em>The hardcover, paperback, and ebook are all available on Amazon. And the audiobook is available on Apple. All these links are easily found on csbeaty.com. The magic number is 1,000 copies sold in the first year. I’m a little over 300 after six months in. I have a lot of work to do.</p><p>* If you don’t want to pay for my book because you’re not sure if it sucks, I don’t blame you. I don’t buy books from authors I’ve never heard of either. So what would be really awesome and FREE is if you request that your local library buys a copy. Hardcover, ebook, and audio book are all available for library purchase. I look at my own public library app every day and it makes me so happy to see when my book is checked out.</p><p>* Another free option: after you read the book, or if you want to lie—I’m cool with lying, then put stars on things! Amazon, Goodreads, Apple podcasts, your library app. Anything! If you can click some stars for Loser* then I’ll take them! Agents and publishers love seeing lots and lots of stars.</p><p>* Subscribe to my weekly newsletter for updates on the progress on this book and other fun stuff. If you like something, then like, comment, and do that sort of thing.</p><p>All this feels silly, and I feel silly talking about it, but it’s the language the publishing industry speaks in today’s environment. If funny books about awkward, hormonal high schoolers aren’t your thing—well just do it knowing you’re helping Swankie’s book down the road.</p><p>And as a thank you, if anyone sends me an email with a mailing address to alieneagle 51@csbeaty.com, I’ll mail you a free bookplate. If you read the book, the email address will make more sense.</p><p>So there’s the shameless request. I feel dirty even saying it. But just to remind us all why I’m doing it, hears a portion of the query letter I wrote that will be sent to literary agents when the time is right. I really think we have something special:</p><p></p><p>Charlene Swankie was an actress in the 2020 Academy Award-winning Best Picture <em>Nomadland.</em> The film was adapted from a nonfiction book written by journalist Jessica Bruder who befriended my aunt. When Bruder met her, she had adopted the moniker “Swankie” in honor of the surname of her late husband. When the work was later adapted into a movie, screenwriter Chloé Zhao crafted a fictional storyline about a character named “Fern” played by Academy-Award winning actress Frances McDormand. My aunt was cast to play herself as McDormand’s co-star in a film that later won three Academy Awards and two Golden Globes. Zhao took Swankie to the Academy Award ceremony as her plus-one and thanked her by name in her Oscar acceptance speech. This story follows a rags-to-riches convention, but with an ironic ending. Despite her brush with fame, Swankie’s life hasn’t changed much. She still lives in her van and keeps to herself. And she still has many of the same wounds as she did before.</p><p>Despite being her nephew, I didn’t grow up with a relationship with Swankie. I first heard her story the same way the rest of the world did when she started appearing on lists of potential Oscar nominations. I felt guilty about this, so I didn’t reach out to her other than accepting a Facebook friend request she had initiated. But when I released my own memoir, Swankie was one of the first people to congratulate me. She said she always wanted to write her own story, so in an attempt to reconcile with my own distance from my family, I asked her if I could write it with her. And she agreed.</p><p>I was published in the <em>Journal of Architectural Engineering </em>and I self-published a memoir in December 2025 titled <em>Loser*: A Survival Guide to High School Popularity</em>. In the first five months of promoting, the memoir has sold over 300 copies and received positive reviews from Kirkus, BookLife, and Indie Reader. Kirkus Reviews gave the title a “Get It!” designation. Between my aunt and I, we have a combined social media presence of over 4,000 followers.</p><p>I believe we have a truly original and marketable concept. The movie <em>Nomadland</em> gripped the film community by providing a stunning glimpse into this neglected society and breaking many Hollywood conventions. But that story was just the beginning. It was a glimpse of the current state of these nomadic people, but it wasn’t an in-depth look at how generations of abandonment can shape someone’s story. This family trauma shaped Swankie, but as her nephew I am discovering how it also shaped me. The movie <em>Nomadland</em> has received renewed interest because of Chloé Zhao’s recent success adapting and directing the film <em>Hamnet</em>, which is evidenced by an uptick in the <em>Nomadland</em> royalties my aunt has recently received.</p><p>This book will not only appeal to fans of <em>Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century</em> by Jessica Bruder, but also: <em>The Blind Side</em> by Michael Lewis, <em>Travels With Charley</em> by John Steinbeck, <em>Into the Wild</em> by Jon Krakauer, and <em>We Will Be Jaguars</em> by Nemonte Nenquimo and Mitch Anderson. These works exposed readers to stories that are familiar yet often go untold. They showed us pictures of human resilience with in-depth analysis of character conventions that we recognize but know little about. Our book about my aunt will do the same.</p><p>I would love your help to give Swankie’s remarkable story the greatest reach possible.</p><p>Thank you.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/update-on-my-biography-of-nomadland</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:196434395</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 12 May 2026 10:22:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/196434395/600a6889f7ee151b18a0ffa9ddf20bf5.mp3" length="11194337" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>700</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/196434395/3f250d65e5078d445d18aaa5d0e92f9f.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Escape From the Labyrinth ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>When we parked our diesel-powered Peugeot outside the gates of the Palace of Knossos, we waited until the tree branches stopped falling atop of the car before exiting. With each gust of wind, new tree limbs separated and slammed onto the hood of our rental car. The rental car we had elected not to insure. The Peugeot was sturdy though, and my wife and I were determined not to let a little wind spoil the highlight of our Greek honeymoon on the island of Crete.</p><p></p><p>The former home of King Minos was carved into the side of a hill and sprawled several stories across several acres of Cretan landscape. You can say it’s labyrinthine. In fact, you’re obligated to say it’s labyrinthine since legend has it that this palace inspired the myth of the labyrinth. When you look at the setup, it’s not hard to imagine a bunch of children being fed to a half-man half-bull minotaur inside its corridors. Paige and I waited at the top of the entrance. We were fourth in line, our anticipation growing as we waited to enter this historic maze.</p><p>At least until a small Greek man in a funny hat pulled away from the ticket counter to make an announcement.</p><p><em>“EXCUSE ME LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE MONUMEMT IS NOW CLOSED FOR THE REST OF THE DAY DUE TO THE WIND. IT IS TOO DANGEROUS TO ALLOW MORE PEOPLE TO ENTER THE RUIN. PLEASE COME BACK TOMORROW.”</em></p><p>No, no, no, no, no. There was no “come back tomorrow” for us. Tomorrow we would be on a plane to Athens. If we wanted to get lost in a castle allegedly built to hide the offspring of a queen who hid in a wooden cow suit so she could be fucked by a white bull that her husband was supposed to sacrifice to the god Poseidon, we had to do it now.</p><p>We took stock of the scene. Our fellow linemates who were also denied entry were thick in their protest. We thought about playing the “we’re on our honeymoon and this is the only thing we came to Crete to see and we fly out tomorrow” card, but at this point the man with the funny hat was giving the same rebuttal without listening to further arguments. The decision was made. The people we watched purchase tickets and enter the ruins ahead of us would be the last admitted for the day. If they were given a concussion from flying debris, so be it, but the rest of us would not be given the opportunity. Our tourism dollars and Greece’s bankrupt economy be damned.</p><p>I started to panic. I pulled away from the crowd to take stock of the situation. I ventured around the edge of the entrance, looking for some clue to gain admittance while the attendant with the funny hat was distracted by the throngs of visitors detailing how he had just ruined their day. There was a trickle of tourists walking out of a path off to the side. I gestured to Paige, and my bride and I slowly eased closer to the source. We moved stealthily, as to not alert anyone of our covert aims to solve this riddle of entering Knossos during monsoon season. We realized we had found the exit of the ruins, and it was completely unsupervised.</p><p>I looked my wife in the eyes, seeing if she was following the same clues as I to solve how we would get inside. She responded with a single word.</p><p><em>“Yup.”</em></p><p>After double checking that the only visible employee was still occupied with mutinous tourists declaring their outrage over the injustice they had been given, Paige and I darted through the back gate. Our goal was to quickly embed ourselves deep enough into the ruins to appear we had always been there. It wasn’t difficult to do. Once we had made entry, the zigs of walkways and zags of corridors disguised any discernible path and made it simple to appear in the middle of a tour that had begun before the hurricane winds forced the closure of the ruin.</p><p>We were inside the labyrinth. Now we just had to figure out where we were supposed to go.</p><p>We paused to consider our surroundings. We were far from the only ones inside the ruins, but judging from my wife’s hair standing on end, we were certain the staff would soon be in the process of shutting down the attraction. I removed my hat and stuffed it into my back pocket so it wouldn’t blow off, allowing the gusts to blast my bangs into a cow lick. We spotted the man with the funny hat. He was slowly plodding down from his post at the entrance, having sealed it from additional money paying customers, and was starting the process of hurrying up the remaining guests as quickly as possible to the exit. Our afternoon had become a game of Pac-Man.</p><p>As Paige inspected a placard with a map, I bent down to pick up a weird seed pod that had blown off a tree and a rock that had chipped off from a wall. I inspected them closely and placed my treasures in my pocket. Satisfied with her research, Paige told me to follow her, but we only took a few steps before I heard a scratchy voice behind me shouting in Greek. I ignored it. The yelling increased. As I looked around, I knew there was no one else these angry Greek commands could be meant for. S**t. It got us.</p><p>Wincing from the wind blowing in my face, I turned to see a Greek woman. I mentally prepared to be escorted out of the ruins and charged with trespassing. I decided we could plead ignorance and avoid getting in trouble for breaking and entering, but for the second time in a five-minute span I felt my dreams of experiencing the stomping grounds of the Minotaur vanishing.</p><p>She was furious, but I noticed that her pulsing Greek cursing was accentuated with aggressive hand gestures. She kept repeating the same phrase and pointing to the ground. She wasn’t acting like she wanted us to follow her, she just stayed in place, thrusting her index finger downward and spitting venom. Still unsure of what was happening, I got an idea. I slipped my hand into my pocket and dramatically removed the rock, placing it on the ground like an armed robber surrendering his firearm to a police officer with his gun drawn. As soon as the rock was back in the dirt, the angry Greek woman muttered something, turned her back, and walked toward the exit without indicating we were supposed to follow.</p><p>I looked at Paige, shrugged, and turned the corner. Once I felt safely out of sight of any pursuers, I found two new rocks and put them in my pocket.</p><p>Page and I pushed further in. We found the dolphin room that contained the shittiest looking dolphin pictures I’ve seen in a while, and the big painted columns next to a painting of kids jumping over a bull that shows up in all the tourism photos. You can only see the bull’s ass—the top half has been lost to history from grave robbers or assaults from the wind hurtling seed pods at it for a millennium. We followed a rope-railing to a lower section, but as we turned on to the stairwell our path was blocked by a sterned faced Greek man in a funny hat.</p><p>F**k. I guess this was it.</p><p>We slowed, attempting to blend with the other nearby tourists who have been granted legal access and actually paid for a ticket. But it was too late. The Greek man in the funny hat had me.</p><p><em>“I’m sorry sir. But this part is unsafe because of the wind, I cannot allow you to go down these stairs. Please continue down the other path.”</em></p><p>I assured him that was no problem. After all, safety first.</p><p>We found an English-speaking tour group and used them as a disguise. The strength in numbers made it more difficult to be split off and eliminated by the museum staff. We kept within earshot of the tour leader—and even learned few fun facts about some peacock-looking things etched into the walls. As we left one of the bathhouses, I asked Paige what we had left to see. She flipped through a guidebook in her backpack with less urgency than before. We were getting lazy. And we paid the price. The man with the funny hat found us.</p><p><em>“I’m sorry sir. But the palace is too dangerous because of the wind. We are asking everyone to leave for your own safety. Would you please follow me to the nearest exit?”</em></p><p>We obeyed. He had us. Our time in the labyrinth was now over.</p><p><em>“I am so sorry, can we give you a free ticket to come back tomorrow?”</em></p><p>I stuck my hand in my pocket and fingered the rocks and seed pod—my trophies from a successful assault on the Minoan palace.</p><p><em>“No thanks, I think we saw everything. Besides, tomorrow we’re leaving Crete.”</em></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-escape-from-the</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:193421322</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 05 May 2026 10:20:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/193421322/0e6b38310ac75ae0f2bff7d71b28e795.mp3" length="10303620" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>515</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/193421322/e339a49da92a9c3dbbfb7343b0015a31.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[Letters to Haywood Fudd: Joy to the World ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><p>December 12th, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Beaty,</p><p>Your dispatch and the delightful dispatches your children sent to Santa Claus warmed the heart of the aging King of the Literary Daredevils.</p><p>Congratulations on your new typewriter! For your whatnot: some years ago I read that Ernest Hemingway banged away on his typewriter while standing up. You may find this scrap of information arresting and elect to follow Hemingway’s lead (or not). Some additional chapter and verse on typewriters: gangsters from the 1930s referred to Thompson submachine guns as “Chicago typewriters.” I concluded my first book “The Kansas City Massacre, Volume II, The Digital Edition” with that delicious scrap of evidence.</p><p>My current world-record literary stunt is sending Mr. Gary Sadlemyer (the morning protagonist on KFAB1110 AM) a dispatch every Monday and Friday with ungovernable news from West-West Omaha. Tomorrow (Dec 13), dispatch #43 will be mailed. Two of my West-West Omaha dispatches are attached for your bulging consideration.</p><p>Merry Christmas & Much Obliged,</p><p>Haywood Fudd</p></p><p><p>If you do this, I’ll never forget you. Unless of course I don’t know who you are or you unsubscribe later. It’s actually pretty easy to be forgotten. </p></p><p></p><p>My kids must have trusted me that their Christmas lists were successfully posted to Saint Nick since they never challenged me on the topic, but for good measure, additional lists of demands were penned and placed beneath our synthetic Christmas tree. I tried finding a copy of <em>The Kansas City Massacre, Volume II, The Digital Edition</em> online, but without success. I had a feeling that comment was a gag, but then again, what if it wasn’t? What if this magical work about mobsters and machine guns in the central plains really was out there somewhere? Just waiting for me to find it, be educated on Midwestern crime syndicates, and learn fun facts about fully automatic weapons, as told by a man whose only aim is to bring happiness to those he crosses paths with? That, is something I want to believe in. </p><p>And even though the only result the Google search on the topic yielded was a 1975 made-for-TV movie that Fudd undoubtedly had seen, I still choose to believe in this digital sequel, living in a far off-realm of the Internet, that seems attainable yet so distant. </p><p>Tis the season to believe after all. Or at least it was when I got this letter. </p><p>The letters to KFAB public radio host Gary Saddlemyer were different. I had no doubt Fudd actually wrote those, and sent them, twice a week, just as he said he did. He didn’t need to send me proof, but he did. Twice. Which according to his note, were the 42nd and 43rd letters he had sent Mr. Saddlemyer. I never listened to KFAB and never heard of this morning-talk-show-host, but another Google search suggested that he never made use of Fudd’s news from West-West Omaha. If you place “gary saddlemyer haywood fudd” together in a search engine, the query only retrieves a link to my own website—at least those are the only results that Google thinks I want to see. </p><p>But Fudd seemed undeterred by this lack of acclaim or recognition. He kept at it, up until Saddlemyer announced his own retirement after a fifty-year career on morning radio. Fudd wrote him until August 4th, 2025. Another 58 letters in all after the two that he had sent me. Making exactly 100 total.</p><p>I know this because in 2025, he sent a spiral-bound compilation of them all as my Christmas present.</p><p>And as it turns out, Gary Saddlemyer wasn’t the only public figure Fudd had been writing twice a week, but more on that later.</p><p>Exactly 100 letters more on that later.</p><p><p>December 9th, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Saddlemyer,</p><p>The latest news from West-West Omaha:</p><p>* Nero Haberkorn, 65, of Avoca, Neb., testifies the first things he’s going to ask the supreme architect is why he allowed the NCAA to pass the name, image, and likeness hooey that’s going to massacre any hope of the Huskers to ever win the national championship.</p><p>* Henrietta Cordell, 77, of Ulysses, Neb., wears an apron everywhere including to Sunday school, the five-and-dime, and the funeral parlor.</p><p>* Klaus Forrester, 72, who roosts near Plum Creek off of County Road 23, which is a country mile north of Bee, Neb., trumpets he wouldn’t live in a big city for all the gold in Fort Knox but that he’d give his eyeteeth for an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet near his spread.</p><p>* Jack Moon, 85, of David, Neb., smells old.</p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>Haywood Fudd</p></p><p><p>December 13th, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Saddlemyer,</p><p>The latest news from West-West Omaha:</p><p>* Vernon Cripple, 61, of Staplehurst, Neb., is back to saving money to buy a used tank. “Owning a tank is my sole obsession. I can’t get owning a tank out of my system,” testified Vernon who certifies quality used tanks are divine investments. Vernon previously saved for a used tank in 2014, 2016, 2017, and 2021.</p><p>* Mayme Dempsey, 81, of a Abie, Neb., says Omaha should give some strapping consideration to changing its name to Omaha-ha for what she certifies are “prima facie” reasons. Mayme remains a whale of a devotee of Johnny Paycheck who achieved country music repute with his ditties “Take This Job and Shove It” and “I’m the Only Hell (Mama Ever Raised).”</p><p>* Justus Crawl, 55, of Dorchester, Neb., says it’s not the brutal winters that ruffle his tail feathers, but the number of drivers he encounters on the roads who drive as though they couldn’t hammer a railroad spike into a snowdrift.</p><p>* Soothsayer Poe Dansk, 68, of Prague, and Neb., is predicting the world is going out of business next Tuesday between 3:00 and 4:00 PM, but no later than 5:20 PM CST.</p><p>* Celeste “Lady Godiva” Feemer, 49, lives outside of Pickrell, Neb., on SW 2nd Road. Lady Godiva’s chock full of pizzazz, oomph, and all that jazz. On Flag Day last year, she blasted through Pickrell on her Harley and the only thing she was wearing was vintage motorcycle goggles.</p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>Haywood Fudd</p><p></p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/letters-to-haywood-fudd-joy-to-the</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:191819415</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 31 Mar 2026 10:56:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/191819415/1819d390fd16eeb23d126950b3775ede.mp3" length="9895585" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>618</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/191819415/f9f7f155a62e726b361d32e116b56d28.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[Letters to Haywood Fudd: Letters to Santa]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><p>December 9th, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Fudd,</p><p>If you notice a change in font from previous correspondences, it is due to the use of my Christmas present from my octogenarian distant relative who stumbled upon a beautiful Royal typewriter in pristine condition at a garage sale. At least that’s the story he gave me.</p><p>Congratulations on the grandchild and the successful literary assault on the good people of Bliss, Idaho. I trust both events have resulted in unparalleled merry-making by all involved. I enjoyed your Christmas letter, but found the decapitated bull an all too familiar sight. My wife and I once watched the murder of 6 consecutive bulls at the conclusion of the festival of San Fermin in Pamplona, Spain. My favorite bull was named Gabriela, and the feminine name attributed to him seemed to have really upset the poor fellow. Being murdered didn’t help the situation. When the matador went for the kill shot with his sword, Gabriela thrust herself backward, snapped the sword in half, and charged his assailant. It didn’t end well for either.</p><p>I’ve included my children’s letters to Santa since I seem to have misplaced Mr. Kringle’s address and I have some promises to keep regarding posting their annual list of demands. My middle child didn’t bother to write one. She’s kind of like that.</p><p>In the name of merriment,</p><p>C.S. Beaty</p></p><p><p>If you subscribe, I’ll put in a good word with Santa.</p></p><p></p><p>•••</p><p>Each time I wrote to Haywood, I added a little flair of my own. I inherited my dad’s stamp collection, which he kept for roughly three years during the mid-90s before losing interest in collecting postage. Not having any other use for the 32 to 34 cent Looney Tunes stamps, I started using them to send my wife postcards. I tried to match the postcard’s theme or location with an appropriate stamp from my dad’s collection, but I was never sure what to do with all the World War II or prominent physicist stamps my dad had assembled. Until I started writing frequent letters to Haywood Fudd.</p><p>I found a hipster-stationary store and bought a variety of odd-sized and odd-colored hipster envelopes, but that still felt a bit underwhelming for the treatment Fudd deserved. So, I bought a hot wax seal with the letter “B,” and then a hot wax seal of a bat, and then had a custom hot wax seal of a jackalope made. We were getting there.</p><p>But the real joy came from the bonus added content I shoved in each envelope. This same hipster-stationary shop sold collectible Barbie cards from the 1980s, so I selected a few of my favorites to send to Haywood. </p><p>Which then led to me keeping every intriguing scrap of paper or other flat item that I could send in a letter. When my mom bought me a very Christian bookmark with some coffee/Bible verse pun, I sent it to Haywood. When I ordered a few jars of root beer-flavored mustard and they came with a “Mustard Gift Guide” from the “Mustard Hall of Fame,” I also mailed that to Haywood. And when I sent Haywood five identical stickers of the University of Nebraska-Omaha mascot Durango the bull, Fudd sent me back a bull sticker with his head chopped off. He did it very carefully.</p><p>Early on, Fudd sent me two dollars in each of his letters, but once he learned of my devotion to this correspondence, he scaled back his budget. But on occasion he still burned holes in the paper with an open flame.</p><p>When I started regularly writing, I compiled my typewritten unedited essays into a booklet for my family—these were the books I was having made when Mike the Printer first introduced me to Fudd. So when I repeated the task in 2024, I sent a volume to my new pen pal. And in return, Haywood sent me a compilation of his own complete collection of letters to the residents of Bliss, Idaho—gift wrapped and with a Christmas card.</p><p>•••</p><p><p>Dear, Santa for Christmas I really want uggs, roller skites, Taylor Swift curtains, Taylor Swift bed sheets, and led light lights.</p><p>Dear Santa I also have some questions. Why do your elfs come to our houses and move around the house. Why can’t we meet you. How do you feed all your elfs. Why are you friends with our parents.</p><p>From, Manuela</p></p><p>•••</p><p><p>Dear Santa,</p><p>I want for my presents. I want guns but not hurting ones but ball ones. I want some legos big ones so I could build them with dad. I want ohh four more smart watches. What does that say? Ohh I want some hot wheel tracks, very big ones so I can play and not bored. OK.... Are you just copying what I’m saying? And I want some costumes. I want some Batman costumes and police officer costumes and Flash and Batman one again and utility belt and some presents. Do you make elves? If not, that’s going to be cool because elves are kind of weird because in my book it looks like they’re going to go into a bathtub and they’re not going into a bathtub.</p><p>Kener Beaty</p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/letters-to-haywood-fudd-letters-to</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:189149581</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 17 Mar 2026 10:18:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/189149581/10a260de6e59f4c2522730341a0b6fdf.mp3" length="9673589" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>484</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/189149581/0c1b0ed029f6389a7283a2448ee5cf92.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Golf.]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>My dad never golfed, and I can only imagine that his father before him never golfed either. I was the next in line of generations of non-golfers, and I always assumed it was my duty to uphold the family legacy. But I also assumed I would get a job in engineering and spend my days with spreadsheets, American Institute of Steel Construction manuals, and TI-89 calculators—that was always the plan during my five years of engineering school. At least until a Regional Vice President named Guenther Dziuvenis convinced me to go into sales instead and work for him.</p><p></p><p>In my job interview, Guenther asked if I golfed. I told him no. He told me that wouldn’t be a problem—he didn’t golf either—but if I ever wanted to learn, well, it would probably be a good idea. He even said he would have the company pay for golf lessons. During my first week on the job, the US Senior Open was being played at the Omaha Country Club for the first time ever, and my new office excitedly purchased a set of four tickets to the event. As a new member of the sales team, I was granted the opportunity to help fill these tickets, if only I had any idea what one was supposed to do at a golf event that wasn’t even for the normal professional golfers. My co-worker Al had to explain it to me.</p><p><em>“So this is the US Open?”</em></p><p><em>“No, the Senior Open.”</em></p><p><em>“What’s the difference?”</em></p><p><em>“This is for the Senior PGA.”</em></p><p><em>“The what?”</em></p><p><em>“The Senior PGA, it’s the older golfers who aren’t in the regular PGA. Well a few of them play in both.”</em></p><p><em>“You mean like Phil Mickelson?”</em></p><p><em>“No, no. Like Bernhard Langer.”</em></p><p><em>“Who?”</em></p><p><em>“Freddy Couples?”</em></p><p><em>“Who?”</em></p><p><em>“God Dammitt. Tom Watson? You ever heard of Tom F*****g Watson?”</em></p><p><em>“Ummmm…No?”</em></p><p>Al had some serious work to do with me.</p><p>●●●</p><p>I made the mistake of telling my mom I was trying to get into golf, who—having never learned any of my true interests—latched onto this new pursuit with vigor when it came time to buy me any and all Christmas presents. When I turned 24, my mom instructed Eileen’s Colossal Cookies to make me a golf-themed birthday cookie and when they returned from South Carolina, I was given screen-printed golf balls with the logo of each of the tourist traps my parents had visited. My mom naturally assumed I would be collecting these now. My Christmas present was a cheap range finder, which my mom admitted she didn’t know what it did, but it was the only golf accessory she found that fit her budget. Next, I unwrapped a navy blue golf polo, so I could proudly show off my cup-size like all the other man-boobed golfers who just assumed no one could see their nipples when they wore their polyester-blend polos to the office each and every. Single. Day.</p><p>But after buying a hand-me-down pair of clubs from Al at the office, I did have some intention of learning the game. If for anything else so that I could leave the office early—and for days on end—to participate in all the sponsored golf outings. It reminded me of how all the nicotine-addicted coworkers at Pizza Hut got additional smoke breaks while the rest of us were expected to actually work our entire shifts.</p><p>As it turns out it probably would have been easier if I just took up smoking.</p><p>Al did both things.</p><p>He really had life figured out.</p><p>He also wore a lot of golf polos to work. And yes, I could always see his nipples.</p><p>●●●</p><p>I asked an old classmate to teach me how to swing a club. He had been golfing his entire life and even did it competitively in high school, and he didn’t mind all the range balls I was able to expense on my company credit card. At the end of my first lesson, I had not been infected with anything resembling a love for golf.</p><p>Tyler never complained about my lack of progress or all the free lessons I was requesting, but I could sense his enthusiasm waning when he started inviting other friends to join us at the driving range. Without his undivided attention, I asked a guy from church who had an obligation to God to say yes every time someone asked for his help, and the two of us rendezvoused at the same driving range where Tyler had done his best efforts with me.</p><p>Michael and I only had one lesson, but I did make sure to show him the new golf pullover my work gave me. He was really impressed. It was high quality and only showed my nipples if you got close.</p><p>●●●</p><p>I was starting to make contact with the ball—most of the time—well, some of the time—and Tyler gave me a crash course on chipping and putting. But I had yet to play an actual round of golf. Our office participated in a weekly golf league for the American Society of Heating, Refrigeration and Air-conditioning Engineers, and after our installation manager was given a year-long ban due to the time he missed a shot and swung his club above his head and down into the putting green lumberjack-style—we were having trouble filling the required four players each week. I decided my time had come.</p><p>Al was against the idea.</p><p>Which hurt my feelings.</p><p>Which Al didn’t care about.</p><p>Despite being a beer league for engineers, people took the ASHRAE golf league pretty seriously. When I ran into an old engineering professor at the driving range, I made a comment about how I had never seen him there. He told me he selected which range he practiced at based on the velocity of the wind flow on that given day. He said, “you know it’s that whole engineering thing, you can never really turn it off.”</p><p>Engineers are kind of like <em>that</em>.</p><p>Every golfer at the ASHRAE league had a handicap based off their league performance to date. Since I had never golfed in that league, or any league, or in any form—my score wouldn’t be counted that first round and would instead be used to establish my handicap.</p><p>After missing the ball entirely on my first tee-shot, I regrouped and made contact on my second swing, hooking it and watching it bounce off the cart path and into a tree line. I hit it again and this time the ball ended up in a tree. Not near a tree. In a tree. About three-feet up, gently nestled in the branches of a pine as if it were the egg in a bird’s nest. I tried swinging my club like a baseball bat at the waist high target, which just made the ball land at my feet after the club head caught the pine needles and shook the entire tree.</p><p>The rest of the round went much the same.</p><p>In order to keep play moving, there was a maximum score allowed on each hole. Something like seven strokes above par. I was mercy-ruled every single hole and at the end of the round was assigned the maximum allowable handicap. That was the only time I participated in the ASHRAE golf league. I never asked to play again, but I also knew Al would never allow it.</p><p>●●●</p><p>But I had yet to give up hope. After our Vice President Guenther couldn’t attend the Master’s Golf Tournament due to the untimely death of his mother, he let me take his ticket to escort a couple of customers. I had never watched a golf tournament in my life, on tv or in person, and here I was at Augusta National sitting in the same grandstand as former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice and yucking it up with a VP of an engineering firm.</p><p><em>“Hey Chris, check it out. There’s Tom Watson.”</em></p><p><em>“Ohh yeah, how cool is that. I totally know who Tom Watson is.”</em></p><p>I kept getting invited to fancy-ass golf tournaments. I not only went to the Master’s a second time, I also took customers to the PGA Championship and the US Open. The real one. Not the one for old people. I could <em>talk</em> about golf, even if I couldn’t <em>play</em> golf. And for Christmas that year, my mom bought me a series of golf lessons. By the end of these private sessions I knew what a proper swing felt like, and when I aimed my ball at the driving range, well, it went in that <em>general</em> direction.</p><p>I was so thrilled that I accepted an invitation from a customer to go golfing. I told him about my lessons and as we drove back to the clubhouse after the round, he tried to encourage me in my new hobby.</p><p><em>“Chris, that’s great that you’re going to start taking lessons soon. I think you’ll really get a lot out of those. That will help your game a lot.”</em></p><p>F**k it. Golf is stupid. I don’t like looking at man-boobs enough to be a golfer anyways.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-golf</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:189783049</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 10 Mar 2026 10:28:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/189783049/24c739fb9ceb07b01d157e774292c325.mp3" length="11007879" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>550</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/189783049/c4e3235c20825081f92dd85252fe0dcc.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[Letters to Haywood Fudd: Lost in Translation and More Bonsai Trees ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><p>November 9th, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Fudd,</p><p>I was excited to see your latest correspondence. I know your time is precious as you attempt to bless this world with your beautiful words at an unprecedented scale this holiday season. I wish you much success in this endeavor. I hope the residents of Bliss, Idaho or wherever else your messages end up are as grateful as I am for your poetry.</p><p>I have some bad news, the bonsai tree stand in the Hobby Lobby parking lot appears to have migrated south for the winter. But don’t despair. I have an update.</p><p>The bonsai tree road stand is operated by a man from Houston that goes by the name of “Thunder Kim.” If you’d like to call him, his number is 832-687-7676—he made sure I had it in case I needed any assistance after I purchased a bonsai tree of my own.</p><p>I don’t believe Thunder is his real name, he is very Japanese. He imports all of his bonsai trees from Japan to Houston, and then drives them up to Omaha. I asked him why Omaha? To which he laughed, smiled, and nodded in the manner that Japanese people do who do not have a strong command of the English language.</p><p>The ages of his bonsai trees ranged from four years to 26 years old. For each year of age that the Japanese juniper had, Thunder charged an additional $10. It felt like a fair deal, and he gave me complimentary care instructions. I made sure to pick up a copy for yourself. I hope you find them helpful, but this is the extent of my bonsai tree knowledge. If you have further questions, I’m sure Thunder wouldn’t mind if you gave him a call.</p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>C.S. Beaty</p></p><p><p>Your email inbox needs some more fun. </p></p><p>•••</p><p>While traveling in non-English speaking countries, I love taking photos of poorly translated English instructions. As someone who spent his first year of fatherhood trying to parent in a foreign language, I’m empathetic to the struggle, but seriously. Bad translations are the best.</p><p>Just consider the gondola I rode in Guam that could have said,<em> “please remain seated and do not throw anything outside,”</em> but instead chose to instruct me, <em>“Do not change Seat and Dump outside, please.”</em></p><p>Or the sign in the lobby of a Peruvian hotel that read,</p><p><em>Let’s do that your permanency is agreeable and pleasant TAKE CARE YOUR PERSONAL OBJECTS the hotel don’t know responsibility for losses or steal due that we are in public areas. The management</em></p><p>•••</p><p>With a subpar translation, the message isn’t just lost, it becomes an entirely new thing. The challenge of piecing together the meaning of the original text becomes its own activity, and as long as the stakes aren’t too high, the act provides an amusing game. Or at least a funny photo.</p><p>I learned a lot about bonsai trees when I finally met Thunder Kim the bonsai tree man, but not how to take care of one. Thunder gave me multiple sets of instructions and sold three small vials of <em>“green green liquid plant food,”</em> but the more helpful Thunder Kim tried to be, the less I knew what to do with my new four-year-old Japanese Juniper. Even the cheat sheet that he insisted I take a photo of left me puzzled:</p><p><em>1.) It is good to fully soak the tree in water for the first time. 2 times in the first week only.</em></p><p><em>2.) Plant food- Mix the plant food with one gallon of water and water 2 times a week.</em></p><p><em>3.) Rain water- When it’s raining outside. Rainwater is ok to let the tree absorb the rainwater. No more than 2 times a week.</em></p><p><em>4.) Sun- No sun or very little sun is ok. Is it is ok with a 24 hour light. Normal conditions are ok as well, such as air condition, heater, and animals.</em></p><p></p><p>I tried following Thunder’s instructions as best I could. But I couldn’t really understand how to rectify all of those things I wasn’t supposed to do more than two times a week. It kind of seemed like everything was “ok.” This ought to be easy. </p><p>I took the tree out to our patio a few times each week. I let it out when it was raining. I took pictures and showed it off to my friends. Things were looking great for my little tree, until I started comparing the current color of the tree to the color from my first photos. The second my four-year-old Japanese Juniper came into my house, it started its gradual death.</p><p>It turns out those things are pretty damn hard to take care of. I must not have read the instructions carefully enough. </p><p>•••</p><p>Frankly, I thought the bonsai tree would last a lot longer and provide a lot more material for Haywood Fudd letters than it did. I imagined it as some ongoing saga, some new hobby I could periodically update Fudd on with all my new bonsai tree knowledge and experiences. But I never really cared about bonsai trees in the first place, and the death of my own tree certainly indicated that. I was always more interested in Thunder Kim, the bonsai tree stand man. It turns out I wasn’t the only one.</p><p>Shortly after purchasing and murdering my Japanese Juniper, the <em>Omaha World Herald</em> newspaper ran a story about <em>“the Omaha bonsai guy.” </em>Apparently he had quite the social media following. People seemed more intrigued in him than the art of bonsai trees. Well, most people. Everyone but Noah Lenser, who responded to a Facebook post asking, “where is the bonsai tree guy parked today?” with the specific location of “up your ass.”</p><p></p><p></p><p>Not helpful Noah.</p><p></p><p></p><p>But other than Noah, people loved this “bonsai guy” and his mysterious full-size van filled to the brim with potted plants. Full-sized vans tend to get a bad reputation given the improper conduct people seem to do in full-sized vans, but now we all had a usage of the vehicle we could get behind. Thunder Kim’s small business was so popular that the<em> Omaha World Herald</em>  re-ran the story in its Best of 2025 year-end recap.</p><p>But like the dead stump I now use for decor in my basement, my interest in bonsai trees atrophied. It was just as well. Fudd had also seemed to move on to new topics. His next letter to me was his own recap of the year in the form of a Christmas card. </p><p>The message, albeit odd, made complete sense to me.</p><p>•••</p><p><p>Dear Yuletide You,</p><p>If there are burn marks on this jolly dispatch, consider the scribbling source. Consider this too: mailing Christmas cards is teetering on the cheerless precipice of extinction. Some velvety synonyms for extinction include kaput, pfft, defunct, belly up, and doomed.</p><p>Everyone is jim-dandy. Sing it: Jim Dandy to the rescue... Jim Dandy to the rescue.</p><p>Our granddaughter made her majestic appearance on November 7. She’s also beautiful and breathtakingly perfect. Watching her sleep and listening to her make muffled cooing noises while she’s nuzzled in our arms is pure bliss.</p><p>In April, a sinful tornado with oodles of scabby intentions and credentials mauled our town. While others judiciously sheltered in basements, I fortified myself with a beaker of general anesthesia and charged outside to do battle with this swirling tempest. With the wind and rain horse-whipping me, I shook my fist at the man-eating cyclone while baptizing it with a bona fide and virtuous cussing.</p><p>Our travels caused us to mosey like insubordinate tumbleweeds and to sideswipe into some of you in 2024. Boosting to get back on the road, we are reposing in Palm Springs during Christmas week with cousin Hunky Gordy where we’ll zigzag through the hidey-holes and haunts of old blue eyes. We return from Palm Springs for four days before bulging to San Antonio where Mrs. Fudd will conduct high-stakes business and I’ll serve as an impromptu tour guide at the Shrine of Texas while stashing myself inside my deteriorating gorilla suit.</p><p>We visited a couple of potential sanctuaries in 2024 where we were considering relocating. City ambassadors of two of these cozy communities extended invitations to Mrs. Fudd but not to me. During meetings with these emissaries I couldn’t resist the immaculate temptation to puff on an ill-bred cigar, wear knockoff Elvis sunglasses, sport a sleeveless threadbare T-shirt with a fading picture of Farrah Fawcett emblazoned on it, while randomly issuing strangled grunts of muddling questions and blurry testimonials.</p><p>In the ladylike town of Bliss, Idaho (population 300), a disheveled cluster of glassy-eyed, hidebound literary adrenaline junkies anointed me to once again chaperone them to literary Shangri-La. What this de-facto hooey means: I remain The King of the Literary Daredevils. Mrs. Fudd isn’t ohh so amused.</p><p>Merry Christmas and Much Obliged,</p><p>Haywood Fudd</p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/letters-to-haywood-fudd-lost-in-translation</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:187790113</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 24 Feb 2026 11:39:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/187790113/5aeff7c70103afdb614b8519d07a5fff.mp3" length="11263983" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>704</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/187790113/3b89df45cea4ec35de4cdfcf27c97cab.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[Letters to Haywood Fudd: Self-Actualized ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><p>October 16th, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Fudd,</p><p>It’s getting colder, which means that I am in the midst of the thankless job of gradually ripping out all of the plants in my wife’s garden and placing them in our garbage bin. It’s about a two-month process since I refused to purchase those large brown paper sacks, so I can only properly dispose of one garbage bin of garden at a time. I could probably start the process earlier in the year since my wife inevitably loses interest in said garden around mid-June, which annually coincides with when there are vegetables that require something to make use of. Some people use vegetables, we let them sit on our counter for the duration of the summer and leak vegetable goo down the kitchen drawers and onto the hardwood floor. It’s an odd hobby, but it seems to make my wife happy. Me, not so much.</p><p>Last year I attempted to plant my own herbs to capture some of the thrill my wife seems to enjoy with witnessing the gradual birth and death of an object, so I bought a lemon verbena plant. I don’t know what one does with lemon verbena, but I heard about it in a book once. It’s a plant that smells like lemon. I know what you’re thinking, “you’re just talking about lemons.” I’m not. Lemon verbena, it’s like lemons, but without the lemons. Gradually the plant lost its lemon scent, which I felt was odd, but I was new to gardening. I attempted to make a syrup out of the enormous plant, but it tasted awful and took forever. While I was in the process, my mother came by the house and informed me that I was in fact, not making a syrup out of lemon verbena, but a common garden weed. How was I supposed to know? I had taken good care of the weed though, I was rather proud of it.</p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>C.S. Beaty</p></p><p></p><p><p>Do you find yourself chanting, “MORE FUDD! MORE C.S. BEATY! MORE UNCLE BOB!”?</p></p><p>•••</p><p>My daily trips to the mailbox were now met with greater anticipation. My boss had taught me how to send for autographs through the mail about a year ago, but I had run low on B-list celebrities willing to sign a hockey puck. Since my growing autograph election had stunted its growth, checking the mail had also grown less exciting.</p><p>Until now.</p><p>It was still early phases in our relationship. The first few dates had gone well, but now Fudd and I were getting to know what each of us was like when we didn’t feel the need to impress one another. When we didn’t get all glammed up before a night on the town. We were inching toward the wearing sweatpants and farting in front of one another phase of any meaningful partnership, but it was still exciting. Now that we were six letters in and things felt serious, I started bragging about my new pen pal with the people I cared about. It was about time they knew who this special person in my life was.</p><p>I started with my wife.</p><p><em>“This has got to be the weirdest thing to happen to you this year.”</em></p><p>I think she understood.</p><p>I went back to our matchmaker, Mike the Printer, and told him about Fudd and I. He was thrilled the two of us had hit it off. I emailed him scanned copies of our correspondence thus far, and nine minutes later, Mike the Printer sent me a response.</p><p><em>“Thanks, I think this is going to be the best reading ever.”</em></p><p>•••</p><p>Fudd’s letters corresponded with a creative, albeit somewhat lonely phase of my life. After adopting three kids, every single meaningful relationship I had prior had been impacted. I lost friends. I felt estranged from the people who supported me before becoming a dad, meanwhile trying to become a dad to a three-year-old, five-year-old, and eight-year-old who didn’t speak the same language I did and had never had a meaningful relationship of their own. No one in our new family knew what this thing was supposed to look like or what to do with one another.</p><p>There were only a few constants between the before and after of this abrupt life transition, but one was my boss. He had always been in my corner, even if it meant giving me life advice that was counter to what he probably should have said as my employer. He taught me life was short. Working hard was often overrated. Professional ambition is often a fool’s errand. And life gets better when you learn to care less and enjoy it more.</p><p>He loved it when I told him about Haywood Fudd:</p><p><em>“My two thoughts:</em></p><p><em>1) this man needs NO psychedelic drugs and</em></p><p><em>2) this is what self actualization must look like. Best proof of reincarnation I have seen.”</em></p><p>•••</p><p>When Haywood’s next letter arrived in the mail, I was smitten.</p><p>•••</p><p><p>November 2nd, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Beaty,</p><p>Hi, there.</p><p>The following is what I scribbled last Tuesday. I propose you give the following your best as you will see them again: Bliss is a blooming word that is used primarily to describe happiness. Oodles, dickens, catawampus, whoop-de-do, clobbered, toot, kaput, and skedaddle are blooming words, too. These words are chiefly extinct. The word chiefly is extinct, too.</p><p>From deep inside my cerebral cortex a bobbing and weaving memory has floated to the surface and is now thirsty for my parched attention. Here it is:</p><p>It was in the third grade, 50 or so years ago, that a budding juvenile delinquent with the name of Scoop tried to wrestle my Baby Ruth candy bar from my clutches. The fight was on, and I fought to protect my Baby Ruth as though it was my mother’s reputation. We brawled similarly to the lyric in the 1969 hit song by Johnny Cash titled “A Boy Named Sue” which goes:</p><p><em>And we crashed through the walls and into the street</em></p><p><em>Kicking and a-gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer</em></p><p>We didn’t crash through any walls, into the street, and we weren’t covered in mud, blood and beer, but I’ll have you know we were brawling like panthers with abscessed fangs. At the end of the fisticuffs I kept my Baby Ruth.</p><p>It’s go time. The pressure, although governable and biddable at this stage of my on-going world-record literary stunt, is preparing to mount a charge.</p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>Haywood Fudd</p><p>King of the Literary Daredevils</p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/letters-to-haywood-fudd-self-actualized</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:186807096</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 17 Feb 2026 11:48:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/186807096/cbec49e18d2d4db1e19fb7d80322ebcb.mp3" length="10149496" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>507</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/186807096/c524edfa0fe062ffbf0add17eb713518.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[Letters to Haywood Fudd: Sex Wax ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p></p><p>October 8th, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Fudd,</p><p>I’m sorry to report that I’ve yet to make it out to the bonsai tree stand out on Dodge Street. I was in the process at one point, but was distracted at a stoplight when a black convertible pulled up in the lane next to mine. The driver wore a shirt that looked like he was headed to a meeting with his bowling team, and the make of the car was one of those middle-of-the-road manufacturers that communicates, “hey I own a convertible but not a nice one.” He seemed to settle for what his budget allowed after his bowling dues were paid in full.</p><p>The rear-view mirror had an air freshener dangling from it advertising “Mr. Zog’s Sex Wax.” Now I am familiar with sex, and with wax, but I’ve never considered combining the two of them the way that Mr. Zog apparently had. I remain unclear as to the proper application of the product, and the air freshener was lacking in additional detail. Perhaps it is a bowling alley product, or something used for the removal of pubic hairs, or something meant for the assembling of scented candles—hence why they would diversify their product lines into the tangential market of air fresheners.</p><p>The bowling shirt sped away as soon as the light turned, at a speed inappropriate for the Millard North school zone we had both found ourselves in. His Nebraska license plate stated “SHOWME.” Again, the lack of detail was troublesome to me. Someone who purchased sex wax in the quantity that deems him worthy of a complimentary air freshener is not someone that I think would be discreet about what he wants shown toward him, but again, this driver proved the exception. Perhaps he’s from Missouri, or a fan of the movie Jerry Maguire.</p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>C.S. Beaty</p><p></p><p>I was still feeling my way around the type of correspondence I wanted to have with Haywood Fudd. When he was at his best, Fudd was painting elaborate nonsense scenes depicting bizarre characters whose mannerisms forced the reader to respond, “how does someone come up with this?” Like an alternate reality game, Haywood blended the real world with the strange corners of his imagination and thrust them upon the unsuspecting postal customer without any context. This blending of the absurd with the ordinary gave Fudd his charm. Even if some people, like one of the commenters on Kmart 29’s Reddit thread, “didn’t care much being toyed with.”</p><p>That wasn’t really the way I wrote.</p><p>After trying some gag in my first letter about the character “Pepsi” and an imaginary fight I had with him concerning a Ferris wheel, I felt the same way I felt when I was tricked into accidentally accepting a part time job at a temporary tax preparation storefront inside the Conestoga Mall which required me to dress up as Uncle Sam and pass out flyers for tax preparation services: stupid. What Fudd did with such mastery and gusto did not come naturally to me. So, I crafted one rule for my letters to Fudd from here on out: always tell the truth.</p><p>Needing material, I started seeing the world differently. I looked for the absurd in the ordinary while I walked my dog and drove to the library. I took notes in a pocket sized journal and realized that the more minute the description the more ludicrous the situation felt. As my brain constantly vivisected “why do I think this is funny and how would I describe it to Haywood,” I felt, joy? Happy? Excited? I realized I loved being toyed with. I loved being in on the joke, making something into a joke, and being the butt of the joke. And I didn’t really care if anyone else found my own observational ramblings on life funny, because I thought they were funny. I realized if I was amused, it mattered less if others were. And going through life looking for things that amuse you wasn’t a bad way to spend a day.</p><p>And Fudd kept writing me back, so he must have thought it was kind of funny too. Or maybe he just needed another excuse to write down his own absurd observations on life, even if his observations bent reality.</p><p>●●●</p><p>Last summer, after eight months of alternating letters with Fudd, my family took shelter from the rain in a Galveston, Texas surf shop. We spent longer inside than we would have liked due to the downpour and lack of transportation available, but we made friends with the surf shop owner who happened to also be from Nebraska. To wait out the rain, I browsed this surf shop’s inventory more thoroughly than I had ever browsed any other surf shop’s inventory before. As one might imagine a surf shop in Texas run by an expatriate Nebraskan would, they had ample, newly released, “Gulf of America” swag. It made my heart hurt. But then I saw a cardboard endcap displaying rows and rows of Mr. Zog’s Sex Wax. I had never bothered to Google the product. It was funnier to me without that knowledge of what it actually was. I guess it’s for surfboards or something. Part of me was sad for having the joke and the mysteries spoiled, but then again, I would have never noticed the Mr. Zog’s Sex Wax air freshener in the first place had I not been looking for something trivial to brighten my afternoon drive that I could write to Haywood Fudd about.</p><p>So I started looking for the next thing to write to Haywood Fudd about. The world was full of them.</p><p></p><p>October 12th, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Beaty,</p><p>The following is the latest news from West-West Omaha:</p><p>· Lyle Wheeler, 70, who lives West of cedar Bluffs, Neb., on County Road X, is a devotee of folk music. His all-time favorite folk song is “Sweet Betsey from Pike.” He’ll sing it upon request, two period Lyle testified he believes he sung the Diddy over 600 times period the first part of the tune goes like this:</p><p>Oh, don’t you remember</p><p>Sweet Betsey from Pike?</p><p>She crossed the wide mountains</p><p>With her lover Ike</p><p>And one yoke of oxen</p><p>And big yeller dog</p><p>A tall Shanghai rooster</p><p>And one spotted hog</p><p>Doodle-ang-fall, di-id-all</p><p>Do-lang-fall, did-ay</p><p>Doodle-ang-fall, di-id-all</p><p>Do-lang-fall, did-ay</p><p>· Chet Earp, 70, of Snyder, Neb., disconnected his doorbell. Chet disconnected his doorbell after a door-to-door window salesman rang at last Wednesday. Chet isn’t saying when he’s going to reconnect the doorbell. Depending on the brakes, Chet disconnects and reconnects his doorbell three or four times a year. Chet is blissfully unaware if he’s related to Wyatt Earp, the famous Old West Lawman.</p><p>· Faye Ratcliff, 66, of Shickley, Neb., was knocked for a loop when some pranksters put an eight-foot tall cement Sasquatch in her rose garden, but she reports she’s gotten used to the cement Sasquatch. She’s going to spray paint it like pink.</p><p>· Conrad Haskell, 64, of Arlington, Neb., colossally wants to move where the action is. Conrad’s wife, Sabrina, wholeheartedly agrees. “Arlington is so quiet on Saturday nights that you can hear Sunday morning coming,” testified Sabrina, 61, who is an acclaimed former go-go dancer from Butte, Montana.</p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>Haywood Fudd</p><p>King of the Literary Daredevils</p><p>PO Box 345</p><p>Elkhorn, Nebraska 68022</p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/letters-to-haywood-fudd-sex-wax</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:185789040</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 03 Feb 2026 11:51:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/185789040/e99ed2baf61986b42c3deda134f9a940.mp3" length="11616533" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>581</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/185789040/8792f756d42de60a4b822e34d53b306e.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[Letters to Haywood Fudd: Alternate Reality Game ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><p>October 1st, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Fudd,</p><p>I read your “Strange Letter,” how is Pepsi nowadays? It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, but we never really got along, at least not since the Ferris wheel incident. It’s funny how something so trivial can leave such a big impact on a relationship.</p><p>I was excited to get your letter, but I had a false alarm earlier in the week. I received a handwritten letter in perfect cursive and eagerly tore open the long form horizontal envelope expecting a correspondence from yourself. Instead, it was a letter handwritten by Walter Graves inviting me to attend a Jehovah’s Witness Bible study. He didn’t give me any details on said Bible study, but encouraged me to visit the Jehovah’s Witness website for further details. I elected not to, but I get the sense that Mr. Graves may feel the need for a friend, his address is below if you care to provide him one:</p><p>Walter Graves</p><p>14811 Paul Plaza</p><p>Omaha, NE 68154</p><p>Send Pepsi my best, and tell him I’m sorry. Maybe that’ll get the b*****d to admit he was wrong.</p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>C.S. Beaty</p></p><p>•••</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! If you put your email in here, you’ll get to read more of my funny thoughts. If you don’t, then you’ll forever wonder what could have been.</p></p><p>Haywood Fudd is a pen name, but to the recipients of his letters the nature of his quest is a mystery. Since I had the benefit of Mike the Printer, I knew the author of my letter was an actual person. Others weren’t so lucky.</p><p>The only internet record of Fudd is a Reddit thread titled “r/ARG-Strange Letter” started by someone who received a message from Haywood mailed to his home. In his letter, Fudd described how his friend nicknamed “Pepsi” called him “to ask how long I thought it would take to roast a hot-dog by holding it right above bubbling, snarling, red hot lava.” He told Pepsi, “depending on the breaks, two minutes plus or minus.”</p><p> I know little of Reddit. And I knew nothing about the letters “ARG.” But thanks to my buddy Mike the Printer, I did have some secret knowledge that made all of the Haywood Fudd internet conspiracy theories I had just gained access to ohh so much fun.</p><p>“I got a weird letter in the mail about a month ago addressed to me in my current address. Thought it might be an ARG, but it’s personally addressed to me and hand signed in sharpie. Any thoughts?”</p><p>-Kmart 29</p><p></p><p>And let the games begin.</p><p>An ARG is an “alternate reality game.” If you’ve never heard of those then you probably had a girlfriend in high school. According to my own internet research, an ARG is an elaborate stunt that blends the digital and physical world and never admits to being a game. It consists of a series of esoteric puzzles that can only be solved by utilizing the full power of Mountain Dew-fueled online message boards. An ARG may look something like: noticing there are certain letters on the back of a Nine Inch Nails tour T-shirt that are mysteriously capitalized, entering those letters into a web browser, placing the results into a program that measures the frequency of a sound wave, putting those results into a program that generates a given dial tone, corresponding the dial tone to a series of GPS coordinates that locate every pay phone in North America, sending a representative to each of those pay phones at an appointed time determined by a string of code buried within the inner flap of a milk carton, and then answering the payphones when they ring in order to learn how to unlock an Easter egg in the Halo 4 video game. </p><p>And after Kmart 29 got his letter from Haywood Fudd, something like this seemed more likely to him than just a guy writing a letter because he thought it was funny.</p><p>Man the internet is great.</p><p></p><p>“What a bizarre letter. I want to say it is some sort of strange ARG, but it could easily be the ramblings of some random guy. I couldn’t find much searching the name Haywood Fudd online, besides a YouTube channel with literally nothing on it and an inquiry about how much a pack of unopened Evel Knievel beer is worth… If it is an ARG, your best bet might be to try and figure out what PBS show about volcanoes aired around December 31st 2022, since the letter was apparently typed up on New Year’s Day of this year, and Mr. Fudd claimed he watched a show about volcanoes ‘last night.’ Perhaps that volcano show has some sort of clue?”</p><p></p><p>Kmart 29 said he would give that a shot.</p><p>Lacking the temerity to mount a full blown alternative reality quest of my own, I instead waited patiently for the mail to arrive.</p><p>•••</p><p><p>October 4th, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Beaty,</p><p>Thank you for your dispatch dated October 1. October 1 is one of my top five days in the Julian calendar.</p><p>Regarding your request that I scribble a letter to the Jehovah’s Witness, one Mr. Graves, I propose you address this matter in your own outré literary modus operandi. I’m currently stitched up and conducting another world record literary stunt and have no time to spend tweaking a bedeviled Jehovah’s Witness.</p><p>Thank you for the bookmark. I will, as is my wont, put it through the paces.</p><p>Know this: Gillespie’s hobby is wrestling empty pizza boxes. When Gillespie and his Mrs. are through eating the pizza, Gillespie drags the empty, greasy pizza box out of his front yard and goes full on berserk on it. It’s a sight to behold.</p><p>One of Gillespie’s favorite wrestling moves is to stand on the railing of his front stoop, leap high into the air, and to come down on top of the empty pizza box with a giant elbow smash. Another Gillespie’s favorite moves is putting an empty pizza box in between his legs and strangling and squeezing the pizza box until it’s flatter than a German potato pancake. When he’s really amped up, Gillespie takes a metal folding chair and proceeds to beat the empty pizza box to cardboard pulp.</p><p>I inquired why Gillespie wrestles empty boxes. “It’s nuanced. Used pizza boxes and I have a history,” he testified in response.</p><p>Gillespie wrestled with 714 pizza boxes over the past 17 years, his record being 712- 2. I attempted to interrogate him about his two losses. “I don’t want to talk about it. It bamboozles me why people are interested in knowing how I lost to two pizza boxes instead of asking about my 712 wins,” tooted an aggrieved Gillespie.</p><p>Gillespie’s bowling average is 178. His bowling average goal for 2025: 210.</p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>Haywood Fudd</p><p>King of the Literary Daredevils</p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/letters-to-haywood-fudd-alternate</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:184249126</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 27 Jan 2026 11:51:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/184249126/e8d7884b8dbb7df8be91f732e4c3fec0.mp3" length="11080515" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>554</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/184249126/16b6466c698771b0230ac570682b2da1.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[Letters to Haywood Fudd: Pen Pals and Bonsai Trees]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><p>Dear Mr. Fudd,</p><p>I’ve always wanted a pen pal. My brother had one once, it was an old neighbor girl who moved to Minnesota. I heard stories of this family growing up and had to pretend that I knew them and cared about them when we visited on summer vacations, but no one ever wrote me a letter. I think it was my parents’ idea to have them write one another, maybe to help spark a romance or to alleviate the pains of the hot girl from across the street from moving away. Jason told me they only sent a couple of letters, but that was more than I ever got.</p><p>There’s a roadside Bonsai tree stand that I drive by off of Dodge St. I always see an older Asian guy setting up racks and racks of Bonsai trees on makeshift plywood shelving. It’s kind of like the guy who sells sweet corn from the back of a pickup, but instead it’s Bonsai trees. He never has any customers.</p><p>I wonder how one gets into the roadside Bonsai business? I never realized how little I know about the entire industry. Are there Bonsai tree farms? What’s a Bonsai tree go for? I think I might buy one, but I don’t actually want to take care of anything living. Maybe he sells maintenance plans. I’ll let you know what I find out.</p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>-C.S. Beaty</p></p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! If you subscribe, you’ll get funny stuff without any spam!</p></p><p></p><p>•••</p><p>When I started writing routinely, I did so without a plan. I wanted to write down the things on my mind, that was about it. I bought a typewriter so the impulse to edit would be removed from the creative process, and after about a year-and-a-half, I had written enough essays to fill a book. Not necessarily a good book, but enough words and pages to bind them all together and write a title on the spine. So for the Christmas of 2023, that’s what I did.</p><p>I had yet to decide the means of sharing my writing with the world, so I started smaller. I printed and bound about ten copies of my essays and distributed them to a select few friends and family. The response was mostly positive, like a polite positive. I think everyone understood the effort and care I had put into my writing, but whether it was something more than that—more marketable than that—none of us knew. But I kept writing.</p><p>I wrote enough to print a follow-up volume for Christmas 2024, and when I went to chat with Mike The Printer about my latest project, he told me about a fan I didn’t know I had.</p><p>I wasn’t the first person to compile my esoteric ramblings into a Christmas present for friends and family, and the similarities between my writing and one of Mike’s other best customers were too coincidental to not bring to my attention. He told me he held back a copy of one of my books and passed it along to this mystery man. And this man approved. This man who I never met, went by the pen name Haywood Fudd.</p><p>There is little to no internet trail for Haywood Fudd. In an age of algorithms and curated digital news feeds, Fudd’s chosen medium is entirely analog and anachronistic. He probably puts in as much work as any ass-shaking, disgusting-food-eating, Tik Tok starlet—but he’s not doing the work for the clicks. He’s doing it because he thinks it’s funny and it brings him joy. And it brings others joy. Or so I assume, I’ve never asked him.</p><p>Fudd calls himself “The King of Literary Daredevils.” If you read his work, you’ll learn he’s a big fan of Evel Knievel. Most people haven’t read all his work through. Most people don’t get that opportunity. Most people only get a single letter. Written and addressed just to them. A letter from a man they’ve never met, but who thinks it would be funny to send them a letter.</p><p>The first stunt I heard of was Fudd’s 2023 assault on the good people of Bliss, Idaho. Somehow, inexplicably, Fudd had located a directory of the name and address of all 226 residents of this small rural town. And sent them all an original letter. Only one person wrote him back—George Freeman—and he dedicated his compilation of letters to him. The same compilation that Mike The Printer was in the process of assembling when he told me about Mr. Fudd.</p><p>I was hurt by this. As a person who has bled over a typewriter and felt a mediocre reception, many times, it seemed a travesty that someone would devote so much creativity and effort to an ingenious stunt of this sort and only have a single admirer as a result. I set out to change that.</p><p>Eight days after writing that first letter, I received a reply. My first reply.</p><p><p>September 25th, 2024</p><p>Dear Mr. Beaty,</p><p>Thank you for your September 17 dispatch. I received it while lathered in a thick and luscious coat of e’lan.</p><p>Regarding pen pals, I was once contacted by a lady doing hard time in Missouri in 2004 or 2005. She offered to send me body pictures for as I recall $10. I sometimes wonder about her in the wee, wee hours of the night.</p><p>Bonsai trees. I would be most appreciative of any information you uncover on these trees. I have this perfect place for a small cops of these trees so long as they don’t require daily watering during the blistering summers.</p><p>Know this: I may wanted man on the Googlers. Fire up the Googler and search on Haywood Fudd. You’ll see a link to <a target="_blank" href="https://www.reddit.com/r/ARG/comments/1100nfg/strange_letter/?rdt=46691">“strange letter.”</a> The purpose of this paragraph is for you to know exactly who you’re dealing with—the undisputed king of the literary daredevils. As of this epistle, I have written over 1000 letters to perfect strangers. I’m on a literary mission.</p><p>If you can think of nothing else this Thanksgiving to be thankful for, I beseech you to get down on bended knee and thank the supreme architect for gravity. Without just the exact amount of gravity, mankind would be doomed. Doomed! Gravity is that crucial.</p><p>Much obliged,</p><p>-Haywood Fudd</p><p>King of the Literary Daredevils</p><p><em>P.S.</em> As is it my want. My <em>raison d’etat</em>, I reply to dispatches with two $1.00 bills.</p><p><em>P.P.S.</em> Kawasaki let the good times roll.</p><p>Kawasaki let the good times roll.</p><p>Get a board and you’re gonna say, “let the good times roll.”</p></p><p></p><p></p><p>So I wrote him back, and he wrote me back. And a year-and-a-half and over 50 exchanges later, we’re still at it.</p><p>Introducing a new As Told By C.S. Beaty production: <strong>Letters to Haywood Fudd.</strong></p><p></p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/letters-to-haywood-fudd-pen-pals</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:182005399</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 13 Jan 2026 11:32:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/182005399/d51e3c94512f87597d8f4dc6af2aa53f.mp3" length="10325563" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>516</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/182005399/b579eaf330fbd85d4d218d9da9a600d7.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Loser* Chapter 1]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>A few weeks ago I achieved a lifelong dream by publishing my first book. It’s a coming-of-age memoir about my awkward high school years—kind of like <em>Sixteen Candles</em> if that annoying kid who asked Molly Ringwald out on a date wrote a book about his life. As it turns out writing a book and selling a book are two different skillsets, and now that I’ve sort of figured out how to do the first one I’m now fumbling around on the second. The hard cover, paperback, and ebook are all out now on easy to find on my new website csbeaty.com— but I just started recording the files for the audio book. I wanted to share the first couple of chapters. It’s like the free chips and salsa at the Mexican restaurant that are designed to make you starve for the entree. Feel free to order the full meal. </p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! You probably want more of this, right? Well, I know one way to make that happen…</p></p><p></p><p><strong>What Just Happened?</strong></p><p><p>I could never be at peace again till I had written my charge against the gods. It burned me from within. It quickened; I was with book, as a woman is with child. </p><p>-C.S. Lewis</p></p><p></p><p>After the final dismissal bell rang, it was a long walk back to the band room.</p><p>My last class was English, which was a nice way to end things. I looked forward to those discussions even though I had little in the tank at 3:36 p.m. Mr. G.’s classroom was on the opposite end of the school from where I parked my red Isuzu pickup. The truck was a hand-me-down: handed down from a previous owner to my oldest brother, who then handed it down to my next oldest brother, who then handed it down to me. It had a manual transmission, no power steering, a different shade of red on each panel, and a threaded pipe welded to the tailgate where the original bumper had fallen off. I should have been embarrassed by this automobile forced on me by my parents, but I loved it. It was completely unlike all the starter cars my friends had been gifted, and it gave me an easy way to stand out from the masses—from my classmates whose personalities would melt together if left exposed to the high school environment for too long. It was nice to be forced to be a little different.</p><p>Like the rest of the kids in marching band, I had been at Grand Island Senior High before the sun had burned off the morning dew. The parking lot outside the band room was adjacent to the soggy grass fields where we soaked through tennis shoes while practicing marching drills. They always watered the lawn right before we showed up, which once led to our band director halting rehearsal and demanding the athletic director come outside to see what we had to put up with. I’m not sure it helped much. Marching band wasn’t exactly a priority at our school. I learned to pack a change of socks and stashed the soggy ones next to my winter coat in the back of the band room. Throughout all four years of high school, I never once bothered to learn where my locker was. Piling my things on top of these filing cabinets served my purposes just fine. No one messed with the drummers’ stuff piled in the back. The only kids who went into the band room were band kids, and the drummers were not to be fucked with. At least not to be fucked with by other band kids. Outside the walls of the band room we were prey, but within them we were lions.</p><p>Noah Woods and I walked side by side for the first half of the route until he exited the main doors to track down his car. Noah was one of my closest friends and probably the only person I didn’t try to prove myself to. I was pretty sure I hadn’t turned Noah into a Christian yet, but I was working on it. He had been to our church’s youth group a few times and even agreed to go on the church’s spring break trip to Denver with me. I was making progress and was determined to convert him—but frankly his lack of interest in his eternal damnation was starting to piss me off.</p><p>Noah and I had been friends since middle school when we bonded over watching sports and Quentin Tarantino movies. It was at Noah’s house where I finally finished watching <em>Kill Bill: Volume 1</em>. My mom let me rent it from Blockbuster several years earlier after I told her it was one of my older brother’s favorite films, but she insisted on watching it with me and powered down the DVD player when the opening scene centered around a male nurse selling Uma Thurman’s comatose body for sex to a trucker named “Buck who likes to f**k.” From all my mom’s years working at a hospital, this must have hit a little too close to home. Or maybe it was because I was thirteen at the time.</p><p>I passed the mural of our school logo painted over a concrete brick wall—a pair of luscious palm trees in front of a gorgeous sunset, beckoning us to a place far away from the corn fields of central Nebraska. Because of our nonsensical city name of Grand Island<em>, </em>our school and our town as a whole had an island motif forced on it. We were the <em>Islanders,</em> which only made slightly more sense than the <em>Vikings</em> at the nearby Grand Island Northwest High School. I suppose one school liked ships and the other liked where the ships docked, neither of which really fit with the landlocked scenery outside our high school windows. We gave our respective schools more appropriate nicknames: the <em>Islanders</em> would say the <em>Vikings</em> went to “Cow Pie High,” whereas the <em>Vikings</em> returned the favor by calling our school “Drive-by High.” Neither school’s administration accepted these write-in ballots for naming rights, but the monikers fit.</p><p>The “purple island” was ahead—a plywood mountain covered in carpet where the anime club kids played <em>Magic: The Gathering. </em>I considered making a pit stop at the nearby snack shack named Hula’s. Hula’s was run by the Special Education students and sold gallon-sized chocolate shakes for $1. Sometimes my mom would buy me a Hula’s punch card, which the workers with Down syndrome often forgot to punch. I probably should have told someone. I started going to Hula’s less and less after childhood obesity concerns reduced the serving sizes available in public schools. These changes devastated Hula’s business, and the impact was felt. I not only lost an easy 1200 calorie snack at the end of my day, but the lack of customers also made it harder to eavesdrop on the conversations of hot girls. I greatly missed the casual mentions about how “shaving your pubes if you’re a girl makes total sense, but I wouldn’t want my boyfriend to do it.”</p><p>Anxiety is my motor. In addition to saving the souls of my friends from eternal damnation, the toils of the day ended with a list of homework to be completed, activities to show up for, and work shifts to cover. And the doomsday clock on my time at high school was ticking. Where was I going to go to college? What was I going to study? How was I going to pay for it? Those questions dragged on my subconscious like seaweed building on a tow line. I felt I would get to those to-do items—eventually­— but there were others I wasn’t so sure of. As the youngest of four kids, I knew the patterns. I had seen it play out three times ahead of me in the lives of my older siblings. You were supposed to leave high school with a stable of lifelong friends and an established love life. Granted, that’s not exactly how it played out for my sister or either of my two older brothers, but that was how it was supposed to work. I needed to make friends who could be my groomsmen on the day I married my high school sweetheart— but for some reason we were all just kind of shitty to each other.</p><p>I entered the main corridor where all five of the school wings met in a central spillway. Any hopes of catching up with my friends would have to be put on hold, as the halls were now deafening with Islanders fleeing from captivity. During my high school orientation, I was taught to hold up my hand with fingers splayed to get a rough idea of the layout of Senior High’s floorplan. The 500 wing was the thumb, the 400 wing the index finger, and so on. I was now in the center of the palm, along with two-thirds of the school body, half-way to the ring finger where I could exit the fingernail to reach my pickup.</p><p>I took the long route to avoid seeing Mike Beckton. Mike is my best friend. And I hate him. We did everything together, which meant his car was parked next to mine from early morning drumline practice. I wasn’t mad at Mike, I never really was, but we were overexposed. There was a constant comparison between us in the eyes of the Grand Island Senior High social elites. I was smarter than Mike and arguably better at drums—but that didn’t translate to popularity. Mike unfairly compensated for his faults by being confident. I never knew if Mike felt like we were competing. He never acted like it when we hung out. But then again, neither did I.</p><p>Mike and I even dressed the same, the only difference being that the taco seasoning body odor smell of my black drumline hoodie was mixed with the sulfur of gun smoke. I was on the trapshooting team. Mike played soccer. We both owned black studded belts purchased from the recently opened Hot Topic at the Conestoga Mall and had grown our hair to shoulder length to the chagrin of our parents. Our t-shirts were carefully selected from the undersized options of esoteric bands. Some of my shirts fit better than others—I never knew what size to wear since my body was constantly going back and forth from pudgy to skinny based on the timing of growth spurts. Mike and I both wore skateboard shoes despite the fact that neither of us knew how to skateboard. He usually chose DC as his brand of choice, though I had worn Vans ever since my older brother bought a pair. I never got into wearing girl jeans like Mike, though. I tried a pair on once with him at American Eagle<em>.</em> He bought them. I didn’t. But I did make the mistake of telling Alexa Whitney my girl jeans size and successfully made her hate herself.</p><p>I was almost out of the school. I passed the bench where I drank a pint of chocolate milk from a vending machine each morning and rounded the corner into the fine arts section of Grand Island Senior High<em>.</em> The band room was adjacent to the choir rooms, which meant I had to dodge the awkward theater and show choir losers before joining my fellow band geeks. However, there was one member of the show choir I never minded seeing. In fact, it was my favorite part of this route each late afternoon. Right before pounding through the crash bars of the band room door and presenting myself to my fellow musicians like Kramer entering Jerry Seinfeld’s apartment—I smiled and said “oh hi” to Jackie Wilkerson. Seeing her blonde hair and bright eyes was the highlight of this walk. Maybe the highlight of my entire day. I always wanted to say something more to Jackie, but then again, she never said much more to me. But we were both there. Each afternoon. For that One. Brief. Moment.</p><p>The exchange was always over fast. Too fast. She knew she couldn’t enter the band room, and I knew I wasn’t allowed to fraternize with the choir kids not that either of us wanted to. Capulets and Montagues don’t mix.</p><p>But we both seemed to like seeing each other.</p><p>There she was. Her feet shuffled a bit to slow down her pace. She gave her customary smile and greeting—and I returned the favor with a smile and fake surprise of my own. But as I pulled away to exit the hall, something broke the pattern. Jackie paused. She hesitated for just a moment.</p><p>And Jackie Wilkerson kissed me square on the cheek.</p><p>I stood in the corridor frozen in place, but Jackie kept moving. When I thawed, I looked over my shoulder to locate my favorite soprano. All I could see was her blonde ponytail fading into a crowd of highschoolers like a shark fin sinking back into the ocean.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-loser-chapter</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:180455144</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 16 Dec 2025 11:40:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/180455144/af3299322496f60bf96f1a21c0a73c97.mp3" length="12683835" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>793</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/180455144/b2608e96036c9cd273232f250fef9e8c.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Prelude to a Loser* ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>A few weeks ago I achieved a lifelong dream by publishing my first book. It’s a coming-of-age memoir about my awkward high school years—kind of like <em>Sixteen Candles</em> if that annoying kid who asked Molly Ringwald out on a date wrote a book about his life. As it turns out writing a book and selling a book are two different skillsets, and now that I’ve sort of figured out how to do the first one I’m now fumbling around on the second. The hard cover, paperback, and ebook are all out now and easy to find on my new website csbeaty.com— but I just started recording the files for the audio book. I wanted to share the first couple of chapters. It’s like the free chips and salsa at the Mexican restaurant that are designed to make you starve for the entree. Feel free to order the full meal. </p><p><p>Thanks for reading! If you want a free weekly story, sign up for my newsletter. It’s safe. I promise.</p></p><p></p><p><strong>What I Did On My Summer Vacation </strong></p><p><p>We shall understand our present, and perhaps even our future, the better if we can succeed, by an effort of the historical imagination, in reconstructing that long-lost state of mind for which the allegorical love poem was a natural mode of expression. </p><p>-C.S. Lewis</p></p><p>As the Incans expanded their empire, several indigenous groups fled to the islands of Lake Titicaca to avoid conquer. While the Incans were good at climbing mountains, they were s**t at swimming. So, like the second <em>Avatar</em> movie, which is just a water version of the first <em>Avatar</em> movie, a group of castaways sought a liquid sanctuary. They isolated themselves from foes, but also from everything else. They cared for their families and looked out for their friends. They became self-sustaining and culturally incestuous by adapting their way of life to their new surroundings. And for centuries, little changed.</p><p>Incredibly, these islanders still exist. Even when the Incans were no longer a threat, they decided to stay put. After the Incans came Fernando Pizarro, who planted the Spanish flag in conquest and taught savages to become proper Catholics. After Spanish rule came Simón Bolívar, who reclaimed South America so it could be ruled by oligarchs. After oligarchs came drug lords, socialists, corrupt corporations, and more oligarchs. As the outside world shifted and civilizations crumbled, the residents of Lake Titicaca sold fish and stayed out of trouble.</p><p>Commercial fishing and environmental hardships have made it harder to sustain a family with a net and a boat, so today most of the islanders make money from tourism. My wife told me about these people while she was planning a trip to Peru. She’s a high school Spanish teacher and each year someone in her department gets to take a group of students to a Spanish-speaking country. Her turn was coming up, and she had heard great things about the two-day excursion to visit these island people. Because my wife is popular with the students at her high school, she had no problem filling the trip with enough bodies to earn a free ticket for both her and me. So, in the summer of 2024, the two of us joined thirty other students and chaperones to see these islands for ourselves.</p><p>Lake Titicaca has over a hundred man-made floating islands crafted out of reeds. As they grow, the roots of the reeds naturally intertwine underwater, and using primitive handsaws, the islanders cut out cubes of these roots and lash them together. The blocks are left to sit for about a week so the living roots can weave the parcels together and form a floating mass. Dried reeds are thrown on top to form a matted surface, and then the island is move-in ready.</p><p>Stepping foot on one of these floaters feels like you’re walking on a waterbed. A single island is a few hundred square feet and home to a handful of households consisting of families and close friends. Scant solar panels provide the most basic of electricity, but there is no indoor plumbing. Only outdoor. In a lake. There seemed to be little privacy, but despite spending several hours meeting numerous families, I never saw anyone pooping outside. They figured out how to make it work. People are good at adapting to their surroundings.</p><p>We were given a presentation on floating island life by the president of Isla Pato Corazón. The various islands rotate hosting visitors so the lucrative tourist dollars can be spread throughout the communities. Most residents spend their days creating items to sell, like elaborate tapestries or miniatures of the elegant boats crafted from the same reeds their homes are built upon. From collecting duck eggs to waiting for a motorboat to take kids to school, the mundane tasks necessary in any culture are shaped by their environment. Including romance.</p><p>In rural Nebraska, teenagers drive to a secluded cornfield to make out in the front seat of a Toyota Camry, but in the floating islands they use a “bota romantica.” Just large enough for two full-grown adults and bedded with loose reeds, these sex rafts are shared between islanders for when the need arises. It takes some advance planning, but if a couple wants alone time away from curious eyes and attentive ears, one of these woven canoes can be checked out and discreetly piloted into the thick cover of the growing reeds so the two can get freaky.</p><p>I taught the canoeing merit badge during a summer job at a Boy Scout camp, so I am very familiar with what maneuvers would be difficult to perform in a boat. Having sex is one of them.</p><p>I bought a miniature bota romantica as a souvenir. I sent my wife a postcard of the full-size sex raft as a memento of our trip.</p><p><strong>…</strong></p><p>I was impressed but not surprised that these islanders figured out a fix for this intimacy problem. As the foggy sex car scene in <em>Titanic</em> vividly demonstrates, adolescent resourcefulness knows no bounds when the need for some fondling arises. But the problem I always found more confounding wasn’t what to do once you’re horny, but rather: <em>how do you find the woman willing to be the skipper on your boner boat in the first place?</em></p><p>In addition to the floating islands, Lake Titicaca has forty-two “natural islands.” After leaving the floating island of Isla Pato Corazón, we boarded a ferry for a two-hour trip to see how island life differed on one of these permanent sites. Our tour guide grew up on one of these natural islands and told us how things worked where he was from. His native language was Aymara, an indigenous language spoken by the first water settlers. Not all the islands speak Aymara, and our tour guide’s Spanish was rudimentary enough that he and I could converse without confusing one another. He told us about mermaids and fishing, but his best story was how he asked his wife out on a date.</p><p>When his grandfather was a lad, it was tradition to take a flute to a particular beach and play a beautiful melody. If a young lady was impressed­ (or turned on) by the flute playing, she approached the flautist. They started chatting, and if things clicked, they got married. Over generations the art of flute playing was lost. Technology changed and kids no longer had an interest in learning skills where a digital alternative was available. Just as email and MSN Messenger replaced sonnets and letter writing, listening to woodwind music couldn’t compete with the sensual beats available through radio signals. But despite the progress of the industrial age, a dude still needs to figure out how to get a date. And conveniently, instead of learning the flute, now you can just buy a boom box.</p><p>When our tour guide came of age, he left his island and voyaged to the far-off shores of the mainland. Fighting back the demons of congested traffic and avoiding the sirens of knockoff Nike apparel sold on a street corner, our hero exchanged his life savings of disposable income to purchase a portable CD player from a home electronics store. Like John Cusack in <em>Say Anything, </em>the eligible bachelor picked the most stirring serenade from his music collection and returned to the beach of his grandfather to blast the love song in the vicinity of the island’s young hotties.</p><p>I asked our guide what he played to meet his wife. It was an easy question.</p><p><em>“Enrique Iglesias. Claro.”</em></p><p><strong>…</strong></p><p>But different rules have evolved on different islands. To an outsider, a culture’s customs can sound arbitrary and absurd—but to those within, the rituals seem completely natural. Habitual. Instinctual. The place you live defines what you consider normal, and it isn’t until you look from a distance that you can see how strange those “normal” practices might be.</p><p>And on the island of Taquile, everything centers around knitting a hat.</p><p>Taquile is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and is recognized as having some of the best knitting on the planet. Once you understand the stakes, it’s easy to understand why. As soon as his son is born, a father is required to knit him a hat. The hat is floppy with frills on the edge resembling doilies, and the kid has to wear the thing everywhere he goes. This mark of childhood follows him through his awkward teenage years, and before he can shed this embarrassing bonnet and call himself a man, he must prove himself. And that means knitting himself a new hat.</p><p>And unless he wants to be a total loser, he better do a damn good job.</p><p>To transition from childhood to adulthood, the young man knits a long cap with a red bottom, white top, and a multi-colored pom-pom. This particular design means you’re single, and if you are ready to mingle, that pom-pom gets flipped to the side like the tassel on a graduation cap.</p><p>So, let’s say you finished your hat, and you think you did a pretty good job. How do you get the girls to notice you?</p><p>If the knitting is nice and tight, there won’t be a lot of floppiness. The hat will stand nice and stiff on top of the young man’s head. If a young woman sees his erect cap sticking above the other boys’ flaccid hats, she knows the bachelor took the task seriously. He’s probably the kind of guy who would take a relationship seriously as well. If you want to know who the shitty boys are, they’re probably the ones with the shitty hats. If a hat catches her eye, the young lady will approach the young man and let him know she appreciates his knitting. So far, so good.</p><p>Meeting your girlfriend’s parents is nerve wracking. It can take a while to build trust and earn their approval, but in Taquile the process is streamlined. When the girl brings the boy to meet her parents, the dad plucks the hat from the lad’s head and fills it with water. And they wait. For two minutes. If the hat holds without any serious leakage, the couple has their blessing. But if he did a shitty job and knitted some loosely crocheted hipster beanie, then the whole thing is off.</p><p>In the words of my guide: <em>“The parents, they will hate this boy.”</em></p><p>A leaky hat is almost impossible to overcome, but in every culture a daughter’s tears hold a special power over even the sternest of parents. If the girl really loves the boy despite his lazy character and lack of attention to detail, she can appeal the ruling by begging her folks for a second chance. But he can only get one. That’s it. He better not f**k it up. It takes several months to knit a proper hat, and the boy has to start from scratch.</p><p>But if this next hat is good, the young lady has found her soulmate. They can start the wedding planning.</p><p><strong>…</strong></p><p>I bought a hat as a souvenir. It’s floppy as hell. I never was good with women.</p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-prelude-to-a</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:180453798</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 09 Dec 2025 11:58:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/180453798/4f5da23a9d3e90a24973653dc7d30764.mp3" length="12271309" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>767</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/180453798/ee29b272cb42764ec53f50d1202bc04d.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Aunt Swankie]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>I always thought I had a normal childhood. At least normal enough. Normal enough to eat macaroni and cheese for lunch and get told by my mom to “stop yelling” after my older brother hit me in the head with a miniature baseball bat. But when my childhood stopped being present tense and moved into past tense, I received new lenses to look at the past. I became an uncle, so I knew what it was like to be an uncle. I knew what it was like to have nieces and nephews. And when that happened, my parents became grandparents. And I got to see what grandparents were like. All of this was very different from how I remembered it going down. It didn’t feel like the version of “normal” I experienced with my own uncles and my own grandparents.</p><p>I had a great childhood, and the fact I thought it was boring is probably a testament to just how stable and safe it was. But there were parts that were pretty weird. On both sides of my family, but predominantly on my father’s side, there were aunts, uncles, and cousins who I’ve never met. I mean pictures might exist of us at the same family function, but if you asked me how many sisters my dad has, I would have a hard time answering, an impossible time naming them, and would be completely incapable of picking them out of a lineup. This probably isn’t normal.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Want to read the first chapter of my new book? Do you need a story once a week to make life a little more fun? If so, subscribe below. With each subscription, an angel gets its wings.</p></p><p><strong>…</strong></p><p>I’ve never met my half-aunt Charlene. While I was in college, I started receiving Facebook friend requests from people I didn’t know. There were three or four surnames that kept coming up, and my dad was a mutual friend with all of them. They were clearly relatives, but that’s as much as I could piece together. Cousins? Half-cousins? Second-half-cousins? Are there second-half cousins? I accepted some of the requests and ignored others. I didn’t have a method for which relatives got to become my digital friends. It kind of depended on how angry I felt at the time about this secret family who I accused in my mind of just wanting to pad their online popularity statistics. I didn’t plan on interacting with any of them, I didn’t really interact with anyone on Facebook, so the stakes weren’t high if someone was offended when I declined their requests.</p><p>One of these requests came while I was visiting my parents.</p><p><em>“Mom! Who is Charlene Beaty Bailey?”</em></p><p><em>“That’s your dad’s half-sister.”</em></p><p><em>“Wait, what? Half-sister?”</em></p><p><em>“Yeah, she just showed up one day on the doorstep and your dad didn’t know anything about her. She was your Grandpa Beaty’s daughter before he married your grandma.”</em></p><p><em>“What?”</em></p><p><em>“Your Grandpa Beaty had a lot of issues.”</em></p><p><em>“She looks older than dad.”</em></p><p><em>“She is.”</em></p><p>As weird as it was I had never heard of Charlene Beaty Bailey, it felt normal for me to have another aunt I didn’t know about. But I <em>knew</em> for CERTAIN that my dad was the oldest in his family. I’ve <em>always</em> known this. It goes: Dad, Uncle Dan, some other people, Uncle Roger is in there somewhere, Uncle Bruce. But now you’re telling me that was wrong? Did I miss this story? When you are told “your dad is the oldest in his family” that’s supposed to mean he’s the oldest in his family, right? Doesn’t having an older sister make you NOT the oldest in your family?</p><p>And I’ve made it to legal drinking age before I discovered this aunt’s identity from a Facebook friend request?</p><p>This probably isn’t normal.</p><p><strong>…</strong></p><p>My mom elaborated a bit more, but only just a bit. After Charlene graduated high school, she moved to South Dakota to find her biological father. Who was also my dad’s biological father. My Grandpa Marion Beaty never told my dad or the rest of his new family that he had been previously married, and he already had a daughter. My dad never knew he had an older sister. My dad never knew Charlene existed until she showed up and introduced herself. And I guess we kept the family tradition alive in our own household by never talking about Charlene, or Grandpa Marion Beaty, or really anyone from that side of the family. I always felt it wasn’t my place to ask about any of them. It was hard to ask about someone you didn’t know existed.</p><p>I accepted Charlene’s Friend request.</p><p>And that was kind of it for a while. I had one weird conversation with my mom, and then we all went back to ignoring our extended family. I would see occasional posts from Charlene, I’m sure she saw some of mine. And life just went on. Those family mysteries stayed mysterious.</p><p>At least until Charlene posted about some movie she was in. Like a real movie. Where she played herself.</p><p>Journalist Jessica Bruder wrote a book called <em>Nomadland</em> about people who live in their vehicles and travel around. A book my aunt was in. And then a bunch of Hollywood producers, including Frances McDormand decided to turn it into a movie. A movie my aunt was in.</p><p>I was never that curious about my family. I was never that curious about my aunt. But Jessica Bruder was curious about my aunt. Director Chloé Zhao was curious about my aunt. Frances McDormand, the woman who won Academy Awards for two of my favorite movies and was married to one of my all-time favorite directors, was curious about my aunt. The world was curious about my aunt. They all cared about her life before I did. And I felt guilty about that.</p><p>I still kind of do.</p><p>Suddenly this aunt I knew nothing about was sharing her story with the world. And the world cared. And I had no idea she was living in a van. And I had no idea why she started calling herself “Swankie.”</p><p><strong>…</strong></p><p>The movie had yet to be released outside of the festival scene, and we were still in the heat of COVID lockdowns. Going to a movie theater wasn’t an option, so I had to wait until Hulu released the movie for streaming. I was anxious about learning my family history. I was anxious about the dozens of readers who got a hold of the Omaha Public Library’s copies of the <em>Nomadland</em> book ahead of me. I was anxious about all the people who knew more about my aunt than I did.</p><p>When I got a copy of Bruder’s book, I was a bit disappointed. It was interesting and well written—kind of a <em>Grapes of Wrath </em>for the 21st Century. But the story of my aunt wasn’t there. She was in the book—right in the middle of chapter eight—but not her story.</p><p><p><em>“Swankie also let Vincent use her rented post office box. That gesture meant a lot. Her own family would no longer accept her mail, she said.” </em></p></p><p>That was it. I guess I would have to wait for the movie for the rest.</p><p>Hulu finally released it. We got a seven-day trial and invited my parents over to watch. They had already seen the movie but didn’t want to cancel on us. They always looked for an excuse to spend time with my wife and me. My dad couldn’t help giving his commentary based on whatever insider knowledge he had gleaned from Charlene’s Facebook posts. He mentioned Charlene had driven her van to my childhood home after I moved out. He was impressed by the van’s solar panels she had installed herself.</p><p>The movie ended, along with any conversation about my family. It still didn’t feel like the kind of thing to ask too many questions about.</p><p>A few months later we all gathered in my basement again, this time to watch the 93rd Academy Awards Ceremony. Where Aunt Swankie, despite the COVID restricted Oscar ceremony, was attending alongside Director Chloé Zhao as her plus-one. She walked the red carpet. She sat between Zhao and Frances McDormand throughout the ceremony. She held Zhao’s Academy Award for Best Director. And when <em>Nomadland</em> was named the 2020 Best Picture, she was on the stage accepting the award alongside all the people who wanted to tell her story.</p><p><strong>…</strong></p><p>I didn’t get in touch with Swankie after her big night, at least not right away. Now that she was famous, it felt inappropriate. Like I was trying to latch myself onto her only after she was in this Oscar-winning movie.</p><p>But when my wife and I adopted three kids from Colombia, she sent me a Facebook message.</p><p><em>“Ok... I am trying to be patient waiting for photos. Are you home yet?”</em></p><p>I sent her a photo of our family and our three new children. She replied immediately.</p><p><em>“Oh my gosh! Wow wow wow. Tell them, i love them.”</em></p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-aunt-swankie</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:178904254</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 25 Nov 2025 11:36:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/178904254/b400f9fcd1bbc10dfde9519c228122de.mp3" length="10994820" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>550</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/178904254/b0d5ffae6df8f415ca1631d61cb8bfe6.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Uncle Bob's Nieces ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone </em></strong></p><p><p>Thanks for reading! Subscribe to read the first chapter of <em>Loser* A Survival Guide to High School Popularity by C.S. Beaty, </em></p></p><p></p><p><strong>Wedding in the Sand </strong></p><p>I’ve had a chance to recover from my trip to California, and now I’ll share some reminiscences with my friends.</p><p>The trip was a destination double wedding of my nieces, Janie’s girls, Kathy and Tina Matschiner, who both live in Lincoln. Tina’s guy, John Robinson, and Kathy’s Russ Black are terrific people. I’m so happy for all of them.</p><p>The weddings were on the beach in Santa Barbara, and it was a wonderful experience. It certainly wasn’t your usual wedding experience.</p><p>It was a catered affair for about 25 people, with a big, white tent and several pergolas pitched in the sand. The girls had hired a band from LA to play on a portable bandstand, with a dance floor in front. A professional photographer was busy all night. Food was catered, with an open bar.</p><p>The grooms and groomsmen wore matching Tommy Bahama shirts, vests, linen pants and flip-flops. The bridesmaids wore long pastel dresses, and the girls were resplendent in full bridal gowns and jeweled sandals.</p><p>The lady pastor was barefoot below her white robes, and the guests were garbed in shorts and beach attire. It was, as I said, different.</p><p>The ceremony was quite beautiful and touching. I walked Kathy down the sandy “aisle” while Rochelle’s husband, Jack, gave away Tina. (Dang, I stumbled a bit in the sand when starting out on our march, but it turned out OK.)</p><p>The fully amplified band really rocked the beach well into the night. It was fun to watch surrounding beach-goers rockin’ to the borrowed music.</p><p>They lodged me in a sweet little cottage in nearby Montecito, near the Hobbit House lodge on Miramar Beach that the couples rented (google that – it’s terrific). I rented a car and had the run of Montecito and Santa Barbara, sightseeing, taking a tour of the Santa Barbara Mission and visiting Patricia and Gabriel.</p><p>Some of you may have seen the photos that others had taken of the wedding on my site on Facebook. I tried to copy them to email here, but don’t know how. Everyone and his sister were taking photos, so I didn’t take any myself.</p><p>The plane trip to California was a disaster, thanks to the Unfriendly Skies of United Airlines. Our flight was to depart at 5:55 a.m., but the check-in was a botched and delayed mess, and the security check was a cattle-herding pandemonium, with four long, creeping lines.</p><p>There were five of us in the wedding party on the flight, with lots of wedding dresses and luggage, and as the check-in dragged on, Kathy asked the clerk to call the gate and alert them that we were coming. They didn’t do that, apparently.</p><p>Sadly, we got to the gate four minutes after the last call to board was called, and they refused to let us on.</p><p>We were stunned, and the girls were naturally frantic, but nothing could be done. Our plane stood at the gate for at least 15 minutes while we chafed and cussed and stared at the closed gate.</p><p>No apologies, no sympathetic words or even a listening ear from United.</p><p>We five in the wedding party weren’t the only ones denied passage at the gate. We watched the airliner take off with 17 empty seats.</p><p>United said they could only book us on a flight the following day, but that would have been impossible. The wedding was Saturday, and the rest of Thursday and Friday had been booked with pastor interviews, rehearsals, rehearsal dinner, staging the wedding site, etc. They wouldn’t refund the tickets.</p><p>So Kathy and Russ frantically arranged other flights for that day, rescheduled the rental cars, and we flew into LAX, and drove in a rental van to straggle into Santa Barbara Airport just before midnight to claim our luggage. Our baggage had already been stowed on flight we couldn’t get on.</p><p>I’ve got to say, the girls and their guys took the whole thing quite well, and it didn’t hold back the joy but for a brief while.</p><p>We had been stranded at the frigid Eppley Airport for 12 hours. It wasn’t fun. My jacket was in my suitcase and I had to suffer in the super-air-conditioned terminal. I don’t know who that guy Eppley was, but I hate him now. I hope he freezes in his coffin.</p><p>My solo trip home was similarly gruesome, with United (again – I didn’t have a choice) booking me on a stopover at San Francisco which inexplicably shuffled me to Delta Airlines, whose gates were two terminals and at least a half-mile away, carrying my own luggage and just about missing my connection.</p><p>##########################################</p><p>After the wedding, I saw Patricia and Gabriel only briefly. I wanted to take them to dinner the next day, but I couldn’t get hold of Gabriel again by phone (sound familiar, Jerry?)</p><p>Patricia looked fine; a little more haggard possibly, but she has earned that. Her heart is strong, she said, and she is on regular medication. No more heart palpitations or whatever it was. I’m going to call her son and see if he can tell me more about her.</p><p>Sadly, Gabe is now making the same mistakes with his old hoarding habits, and the city of Santa Barbara is citing him for the clutter on his property. Just like at his properties in Wahoo, junk is piling up overhead all over the place in Santa Barbara.</p><p>To my dismay, even the house is cluttered with junk. He has no plans forward to sell what he’s got – all the stuff he trucked in there from Wahoo – and he’s still buying more junk from thrift stores. His health seems to be fair, as near as I can tell. I give up on him, though. I know I’ve said that before but, at last, there seems to be no happy end in sight.</p><p>The two are still living in the same house, but don’t seem to be close. I’m sad for them, but there’s nothing I can do.</p><p>The wedding trip was a fine experience. I’m happy I went. I was so proud to see the girls get married, but I’m glad to be home.</p><p>But when I go back to California, and if I have a choice between flying and catching a wagon train, it’s gonna be a tough call.</p><p></p><p></p><p><strong><em>Kathy & Judy Collins</em></strong></p><p><em>Kathy had told this story about meeting singer Judy Collins several times. I put it together and had her submit it to the New Yorker magazine’s Metropolitan Diary feature in 2022. They didn’t use it. I’m guessing it was too revealing about Alcoholics Anonymous and privacy</em></p><p><strong><em>* * *</em></strong></p><p><em>Kathy: send </em>ONLY<em> the text below to NYT’s Metropolitan Diary (no title).Don’t hesitate to suggest other changes or additions before you submit.</em></p><p><em>Link to Metropolitan Diary to follow.</em></p><p><em>* * *</em></p><p>I was pursuing a career in opera in the 1990s when I decided to return to my birthplace, New York City.</p><p>I had studied voice in Italy where, through my mentor, I met Luciano Pavarotti and others of Italy’s opera-scene movers and shakers.</p><p>But Milan was not New York City.</p><p>I craved better career connections, and New York contained the necessary celebrities, with their ready-to-rub elbows.</p><p>Growing increasingly bolder, I got myself invited to parties, cafes, bars, and other popular entertainment-world hangouts around New York.</p><p>I had some early successes meeting some of the glitterati, which strengthened my resolve to taste the glamour that I was positive the upper echelon forever enjoyed.</p><p>Then, one evening, I was in the Upper East Side, rehearsing some Donizetti’s scenes in a basement hall in the St. Jean Baptiste (sic) Church at 76th and Lexington.</p><p>The hall’s doorbell rang, and I was asked to answer it.</p><p>There stood a rather hard-looking woman bearing an anxious, slightly wide-eyed demeanor.</p><p>She crowded closer to me on her tiptoes, craning her neck over my shoulder to peek at the people inside.</p><p>“Is this the AA meeting?” she asked.</p><p>It was Judy Collins.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-uncle-bobs-nieces</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:177378169</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 11 Nov 2025 11:29:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/177378169/7b57ad621393f732e374e221f0865678.mp3" length="10757671" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>538</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/177378169/b40f0168f47d8c67117807b2d622908e.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Letters to the Editor ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone </em></strong></p><p><p>Thanks for reading! Subscribe here and get the first chapter of <em>Loser*: A Survival Guide to High School Popularity </em>by C.S. Beaty! </p></p><p><strong><em>Letter to Editor</em></strong></p><p><strong><em>Nov. 16, 2024</em></strong></p><p><strong>Bargain-Basement Comics</strong></p><p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p>All the daily newspapers serving our part of eastern Nebraska are owned by a single entity, and share a thrifty, barebones half-page comics section. Recently they announced another shuffle.</p><p>We lost Doonesbury, among other worthy strips, and left these dregs behind:</p><p>“Family Circus”: The epitome of insipidity. Age 64 and shows every year.</p><p>“Beetle Bailey,” “Hi and Lois”, “Hagar the Horrible” and</p><p>“Sally Forth”: Tough competitors in the vapidity sweepstakes race</p><p>“Zits”: The only strip worth the ink it takes to print the Lee Enterprises’ stingy comic pages.</p><p>And why bother to disinter the dusty corpses of “Barney Google & Snuffy Smith”</p><p>That hillbilly-themed cartoon is 105 years old, for heaven’s sake! The effort to update those goofy characters by giving them modern situations is painfully pathetic. Do not resuscitate!</p><p>And that’s just the daily offerings. Don’t even get me started on the Sunday comics, where sub-par panels are printed grotesquely enlarged to fill space and avoid buying us more cartoons.</p><p>This entire mess gives the appearance of a bargain-basement shopping spree at the cartoon supplier’s, Andrews McMeel International.</p><p>We subscribers deserve better than a cartoon race to the bottom.</p><p><strong>Omaha Attorney Barges In </strong></p><p>I am a fairly new reader of this World-Herald’s Public Pulse “Comments” feature.</p><p>I was initially attracted by the possibility of broadening my outlook on current events in the give-and-take of a public forum. It could be useful to my knowledge of current events.</p><p>But I increasingly taste a rancid flavor to the offerings. The distaste is fed by ad hominem attacks that drag participants away from fruitful discourse.</p><p>That cheapens the time and effort I take in following the personalized brouhahas that lately often monopolize the discussions.</p><p>Even if I am able to follow the drift of those personal attacks (the feuds have been going on for so long that participants are calling each other snarky nicknames or only first and last initials which mean nothing to an intruder like me), it makes me wonder if I am being adequately informed.</p><p>Or am I simply intruding on a spat among a tight little clique busily throwing dirt on the characters of perceived foes and talking over my head?</p><p>Do I want to risk being pulled into that mud-stained arena?</p><p>Well, here I am anyway. What’s next?</p><p></p><p><strong>Early Jail Time </strong></p><p>PARENTS: Can’t make your children toe the line? Are they repeat offenders? Do you need help? </p><p>The answer is as close as your nearest state capitol, where wise, all-knowing politicians are striving to steadily lower the age at which children can be jailed. Nebraska laws are currently on track to allow locking up pre-adolescent kids. (”Happy 11” birthday, my future little jailbirds!” </p><p>... Where will it all end? </p><p>“What’s this? Another poopie diaper? You know better than that. Didn’t the government warn you to stop that?”  “Don’t cry, Dear, I’m sure you will make parole.” </p><p><strong><em>A Pissy Grocery Cashier</em></strong></p><p><em>(I sent this letter to the owner of a Wahoo supermarket several years ago.)</em></p><p>Dear Rex:</p><p>I was distressed on Wednesday, about 3:45 p.m., when an elderly woman in front of me at the second to the last register had dropped some blueberries on the floor.</p><p>The woman was quite elderly, but had nevertheless competently shopped for her few groceries, although she was obviously a bit addled about her mistake. The blueberries were in a fragile snap-lid plastic container, which would easily pop open if squeezed wrong.</p><p>The dark-haired cashier (I don’t know her name) glared at the woman, said “Oh, my god,” called for another checker, announced loudly that there was a “big mess”, and then ran around to the site of the spill.</p><p>The elderly customer stood back, a pained look on her face, while the checker held the offending blueberry box in front of her and proceeded to explain, as to a child, how the box could be closed properly.</p><p>In my opinion, the checker didn’t need to get all pissy about it and publicly humiliate the poor woman.</p><p>How much better a public face your supermarket would have if she had comforted the woman that “it’s all right, no harm done, let’s get someone to pick up the berries and we’ll get you checked out.”</p><p>The woman knew she had spilled them, but she was obviously addled and didn’t know what to do. The checker made her feel like a naughty child.</p><p>I know I can expect better from your store.</p><p>I remember with fondness how years ago my mother, Irma Copperstone, was about that old, and near-blind as well. She shopped at Wahoo Super, and depended on the staff – maybe you, yourself, Rex – to help her shop. She’d give them her list, and they’d fetch the groceries. Very impressive.</p><p>That helped keep her independent and out of a nursing home. I’m forever grateful for that, and it made a lasting impression on me. I shop at your store exclusively now.</p><p>I hope you can persuade your staff to be a little more empathetic. Please let me know if I can be of more help.</p><p>Best wishes,</p><p>Bob Copperstone</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-letters-to-the</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:176925388</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 28 Oct 2025 10:53:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/176925388/e898c5f385af4ed943894b00ee4bcb67.mp3" length="10010986" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>626</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/176925388/e02085c69fb84d3530e6e489c68e2bcc.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Wahoo's Most Versatile Roadway]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p>A wonderfully quaint wooden viaduct once spanned Wahoo’ s Second Street between Chestnut and Broadway.</p><p>It was a formidable, three-stage bridge with an approach, level top, and descent. It carried traffic over a small ravine, while the Chicago & North Western Rail Road (that’s how they spelled the company name then) freight trains passed underneath.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading! Subscribe to read the first chapter of <em>Loser*: A Survival Guide to High School Popularity </em>by C.S. Beaty<em>.</em></p></p><p>The “Vy-Dock”, as we kids pronounced it, played an important role in my childhood adventures. It served as a destination for a brisk hike going south.</p><p>A longer railway hike going north in the opposite direction led to First Bridge, Second Bridge, etc., until reaching the bottom of Bodley’s Hill (named after a local family) at about the Fifth Bridge, a mile or so out of town.</p><p>My home was down the tracks on Ninth Street. When I dared to, I ventured to the viaduct. It took a certain amount of courage because the viaduct often sheltered hobos (or tramps or, rudely, bums). There were usually fresh campfire ashes under the structure.</p><p>And sometimes there were local boys who would prowl atop the viaduct, looking to moisten intruders below who strayed within the range of their warm, yellow streams.</p><p>Although the viaduct appeared fortress-strong, with huge timbers and thick planks, I was skeptical of its soundness when I heard the lumber groan and tremble when cars labored up and over.</p><p>Larger trucks didn’t use the structure, avoiding high-centering.</p><p>One time I climbed under the bridge almost to the crest of the ravine, tucking myself under the timbers. I could actually watch the cars rumble</p><p>noisily directly overhead through large gaps in the planks. I panicked; afraid they’d fall through the trembling structure and crush me. I scrambled down and never did that again.</p><p>My fondest memory of the viaduct was exciting as a carnival ride.</p><p>It involved a rickety old family car on its last legs, and my father, Hank Copperstone, who delighted in making children laugh with glee.</p><p>We’d pile into that old crate, which Dad kept in barely working order using baling wire and high hopes. That was just before we got our used 1939 Plymouth sedan -a luxury limo by comparison.</p><p>Dad would drive the earful of kids around the city, with the high point of the adventure being an “airplane ride” over the viaduct.</p><p>We stopped in the middle of Second Street just off Broadway, the car aimed west toward the viaduct. We kids quivered in suspense.</p><p>Hank stomped on the clutch, slammed into low gear, and revved the engine again and again.</p><p>Hunched over the steering wheel with a wicked grin, Dad yelled, “Are you ready to <em>fly, </em>kids? Who wants to <em>fly!”</em></p><p>We knew what was coming. We grabbed upholstery, seat backs, door handles, each other, or any other anchor we could find.</p><p>Without waiting for an answer, Hank popped the clutch, and the elderly machine got up a head of speed, the front wheels hitting the first plank solidly and bouncing the screaming children off their feet and seats.</p><p>The rear wheels left the ground and landed with a thump, sending the kids airborne again.</p><p>Climbing the east side at high speed, the front end aimed for the sky as they reached the flat top level.</p><p><em>Altitude attained! We were flying!</em></p><p>The front end slapped the top level hard. That’s when we heard and felt clattering and scraping noises from under the car. (We didn’t know what happened until we stopped at the bottom and saw that part of exhaust system had busted loose.)</p><p>Now the ride slammed down the descending slope. The bucking and slamming continued until we hit pavement again. There was a slight dip where the lumber met the street, and we got a final set of bounces.</p><p>The ride was over. The children were dog-tired, weak from screaming and laughing. The car had had it, too.</p><p>Hank climbed back up the viaduct to retrieve the muffler and assorted parts, and threw them into the trunk. The ride home was nowhere near as exciting.</p><p>The next day, Dad got out the baling wire to get the old crate ready for the next airplane ride.</p><p><strong>Today, the viaduct and tracks are gone, </strong>and the ravine it spanned has been filled to street level. Saunders County, which owned and maintained the structure, tried to save it after the rails were torn up. But, sadly, it was declared deteriorated and too expensive to repair.</p><p><em>(See? My 10-year-old self warned you it was rickety, even then!)</em></p><p>The ravine is now filled to street level, and Second Street is paved straight through from Broadway to Chestnut. Where the railroad tracks used to be is a strip of land cutting through the city. That land is now the largely unfinished Maple Street right-of-way and, further north, it is part of the hiking and biking trail leading to Lake Wanahoo.</p><p><strong>On a personal note, </strong>today I live in a little white house just a few yards southeast from where Dad and I, my sisters Rochelle and Janie, and carloads of kids used to go “flying”.</p><p>Sometimes on quiet summer nights I can step outside my house and, if I listen carefully over croaking frogs and chirping crickets, I can almost hear echoes of children’s mock-terror screams and their beautiful laughter.</p><p>* * *</p><p><strong>The following is Bob Smith’s lightly-edited account of the same battered viaduct and the same thrill-seeking adventures that linger in our memories:</strong></p><p><em>In the 1950s, well before cellphones, computers, and before many homes had a TV, teenagers loved to joyride and exercise the freedoms that their fresh driver’s licenses promised. The more friends they could stuff into their cars, the better.</em></p><p><em>Often, they would challenge the viaduct for the thrill of getting the front wheels airborne over the center of the span.</em></p><p><em>One night, probably in 1954, I was cruising in a friend’s car with two other guys and three girls when we decided to challenge the viaduct.</em></p><p><em>We made two passes over the span, with increasingly jolting results. A third run, fated to be the last, aimed the car east.</em></p><p><em>At first, the driver had kept safely to the right on the two-lane viaduct. On the third pass, he edged closer to the center, gunning it even faster.</em></p><p><em>To our horror, we suddenly saw the headlight beams of another car on the viaduct coming toward us in the opposite lane.</em></p><p><em>Our car sideswiped it, and then careened leftward at the bottom ofthe viaduct, slamming head-first into a tree on the north side ofthe street.</em></p><p><em>The impactjolted the horn to suddenly blare nonstop into the quiet night. The commotion woke the neighbors, and house and porch lights began to snap on. Someone called the police.</em></p><p><em>No one was injured, and no one had witnessed the incident except the six in our car, and the other driver.</em></p><p><em>Meanwhile, the three girls had fled into the night, leaving the boys to explain themselves when police arrived.</em></p><p><em>I don’t remember if any citations were issued. Both cars were driven away.</em></p><p>Bob Smith and his wife, Jody, live in Omaha. He is a 1955 graduate of Wahoo High School. To this day, Bob always stays carefully in his own lane while driving across bridges and viaducts.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-wahoos-most</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:176071056</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 21 Oct 2025 10:46:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/176071056/b182e473940ac2a04dfb896883429505.mp3" length="10071172" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>629</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/176071056/7d91b96b47d5a0c6daada71b228dc654.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Watch Your Finger]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>As it turns out, the only real difference between stroking the head of our pet cat Bengals and the head of a live cheetah, is that the cheetah seems to enjoy it more.</p><p>I had the Cango Wildlife Ranch in Oudtshoorn, South Africa to thank for this knowledge, where they let you go into the animal cages and pet the animals. Granted, it wasn’t all the animals. And the line was too long to pet a full-grown cheetah, so my wife and I elected to stroke the head of a smaller “junior cheetah.” But still. You don’t get to do that in Omaha. The Omaha zoo also doesn’t sell authentic, hand-woven penis guards in the gift shop. Which came with a picture, displaying how it should be properly worn.</p><p>I bought a bunch of those of my co-workers.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! If you subscribe, I’ll give you the first chapter of my book <em>Loser*: A Survival Guide to High School Popularity. Who</em> wouldn’t want that? </p></p><p></p><p>•••</p><p>Before the zoo, we went on a cave tour at the Cango Caverns. The caves were neat, but the highlight of the trip was when the guide pointed to a metal star permanently affixed to the bottom of a flight of stairs and told us,</p><p><em>“This is where someone slipped, hit his head, and died.”</em></p><p>He also told us a story about a fat woman who took the “adventure tour” and got stuck in a crevice. They had to call rescue services, who cut off her clothes and buttered her up in order to try to extract her obese body. Unfortunately, she was the last person on the tour, so everyone else had to patiently wait a few hours for them to work her free before they could exit the cave.</p><p>We were pulled over twice on the way to Oudtshoorn, both times being told to pay tickets on the spot—which both times the African policeman stuffed the bills of South African Rand into his pocket as soon as it was passed to him through the window. One of the cops asked “do you have something for me?” Which I shrewdly replied to with an, “uhh no?” Which he then followed up with, “where are you from?” Which I then said “the United States,” which he responded with, “Oh Barack Obama?” And I immediately replied, “Oh yeah, I <em>LOVE</em> Barack Obama.”</p><p>That bribe was quite a bit cheaper than the other one.</p><p>Clearly there were different rules in this country than what I was used to. Rules like, “if it’s yellow, let it mellow,” meaning you weren’t supposed to flush your pee because the southern part of the country was in an extreme drought, and they couldn’t spare the water to flush anything other than #2s. But other rules were less clear, and those didn’t come with a helpful rhyme posted on a laminated sign in each public toilet.</p><p>•••</p><p>We learned a few tips on how to stare down a mother elephant when one stepped out in front of her calf and started stomping toward us. Our safari guide Clifton knew exactly how to de-escalate the situation, and the mama and her baby were able to safely pass in front of our safari vehicle without incident. But Clifton wasn’t always around to tell me what to do.</p><p>Cape Town’s Bo-Kaap region was a marked stop on our sightseeing bus tourist map. The region houses the largest concentration of pre-nineteenth century homes in South Africa. The story of Bo-Kaap, like much of South Africa, is directly correlated with poverty and segregation, but with a little more fun. Slaves of Malaysian descent lived in the area originally and then the identical white row houses were leased to low-income residents. But gradually, as each home was transitioned from rental property to permanent ownership, the homeowners announced their newfound financial independence by painting the drab, whitewashed units a bright pastel color of their choosing. Today, for miles and miles, the community is as vibrant as a field of easter eggs.</p><p>We thought this would be cool, but we never got to see it.</p><p>I don’t understand the phrase “stick out like a sore thumb.” I’ve never once seen someone’s thumb and thought, “wow, that must be sore, it really stands out from the rest of his fingers.” Are there a lot of people with thumb injuries I’m unaware of?</p><p>But in a poor, African neighborhood that takes pride in changing a boring, white paint job into a neon shade of self-expression, being white is… well… suffice to say you stick out if you’re white. Especially when you’re carrying 3000 Rand worth of souvenirs in plastic bags with both hands. As soon as we hopped-off our hop-on/hop-off bus, my wife and I were approached by a homeless man of Malaysian descent.</p><p><em>“Oh my baby, my baby is sick. Please sir help my baby, I need money for my baby.”</em></p><p>Me, the experienced road warrior, was onto this man’s game. I could see right through it. No sir, not today. I kept walking without a response.</p><p><em>“Oh please, oh please. My baby needs formula, let’s just go in this store and you can buy me the formula. Just right here. Oh please sir my baby.”</em></p><p>He was persistent, but I was wise.</p><p><em>“Where is your baby?”</em></p><p>Ha, that’ll get him.</p><p><em>“With his mom, he’s too sick. Just right here, let’s go in this store. It’s not much money. Please sir. Here let’s go inside.”</em></p><p>F**k. I was certain that would work. We passed by a Marriott property with a door guard. I considered walking into the hotel and pretending I was staying there. Surely the Marriott staff was used to this kind of thing and would dispose of the hobo based on some established protocol, but I decided that would be overkill. I’d dealt with plenty of homeless beggars in my lifetime, eventually they just go away.</p><p><em>“Right up here, let’s go right up here. Oh my sick baby. Please help.”</em></p><p>The pestering lasted several blocks, and at this point we were turned around. I couldn’t focus. I didn’t see any colorful houses. All I could hear was a smelly man in torn clothing going on and on about a make-believe sick baby.</p><p>He pushed us into a store and took us to a very specific aisle.</p><p><em>“Oh no, it’s not here. They’re out of my baby ‘s formula.”</em></p><p>Wow. Shocker.</p><p><em>“Oh no, oh no, oh no. There’s another store, but it’s far. Just give me the money and I’ll go get it.”</em></p><p>I’d gone along with this charade for long enough, I needed it to end so I could see some colorful poor-people houses. Twenty South African Rand is the American equivalent of just under two dollars. I could have fed an entire orphanage of fake babies with the petty cash in my wallet, but it was the principal of the thing, ya know? Right?</p><p><em>“I’m not giving you any money. I don’t think you have a baby.”</em></p><p>He pulled in close. Close enough to where my wife couldn’t hear. But I could. Unlike the fake panic he had been speaking in up to this point, his voice was steady and measured.</p><p><em>“Look, I have a knife in my pocket and I could just stab you and take everything, but I don’t want to do that. Just give me 20 Rand.”</em></p><p>Well, that was a new one. In the moment, I still felt calm. But something changed inside me. I matched his tone.</p><p><em>“I give you 20 Rand and you go away?”</em></p><p><em>“Yes. That’s all I want.”</em></p><p>I fished my wallet out of my front pocket—you know, only an idiot would put it in the back of his jeans as bait for pickpockets— and took out a brown bill with a picture of Nelson Mandela.</p><p><em>“Go.”</em></p><p>•••</p><p>Fight changed to flight. I no longer wanted to see any colorful houses. I no longer wanted to be in Africa. I just wanted to get the f**k out of there. We went back to the bus stop, but there was no bus. I couldn’t wait, not after that. We tried finding a cab, but when we located what we were told was the taxi station, the garage was full of poor people cramming into full-sized vans. That’s when I remembered what I had read about South African taxis before the trip. There were no South African taxis. During Apartheid, white people drove cars and non­whites were expected to walk. So, gangs established an unregulated system of public transportation, which often resulted in abductions and robberies.</p><p>I needed to get out of this part of Cape Town. Now. We walked toward the ocean. That’s generally where we were staying. Where white people stayed. The urgency was painted on our faces, and a man with an AK-47 and a safety vest took notice.</p><p><em>“Do you need help sir?”</em></p><p><em>“Yes. Please. We’re trying to make our way to our hotel, we’re a little freaked out. A guy just threatened to pull a knife on me.”</em></p><p><em>“Follow me sir.”</em></p><p>I could feel the cortisol drain from my body. This man led us the rest of the way, shooing away suspicious folks and holding up traffic when we needed to cross, all under the protection of his semi-automatic weapon and high visibility safety vest.</p><p><em>“OK, here we are sir.”</em></p><p>I thanked the man profusely. I had never been so frightened while travelling, but I had to hand it to South Africa. Like the waitress who gets your order wrong but comps your meal, they knew how to make things right.</p><p><em>“Excuse me sir, don’t you have something for me?”</em></p><p>Uh, ok.</p><p>I pulled out my wallet again from my front pocket. I had given the mugger my last 20 Rand bill. So I handed this guy a 50.</p><p><em>“Thank you sir. Enjoy your time in South Africa.”</em></p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-dont-feed-the</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:175205424</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 14 Oct 2025 10:15:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/175205424/ad4a03b85d6dd3ccb89a2e0056381094.mp3" length="10707590" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>535</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/175205424/9742baa8fc8355b587c921e6b245b468.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Dumpster Diving ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone </em></strong></p><p><strong><em>Dumpster-Diving Into History: </em></strong><strong>Citizens Rescue Nearly Century-Old Bound Newspapers</strong></p><p><p>Thanks for reading! Subscribe to get the first chapter of <em>Loser*: A Survival Guide to High School Popularity</em> by C.S. Beaty for FREE</p></p><p><strong>WAHOO </strong>-- If it weren’t for just plain luck -- aided by the city library director, a history-loving studio photographer and a museum curator -- a slice of Saunders County journalistic history would have perished from local view.</p><p>In recent weeks, the interior of the Wahoo Newspaper’s former headquarters at Sixth and Broadway is being stripped of its contents in preparation for the property’s sale.</p><p>The building dates from 1907 and is currently owned by Robert Johnson of Wahoo. Lee Enterprises, owner of the Wahoo Newspaper, was the most recent tenant. It also owns several other newspapers in Nebraska and several states. The Wahoo paper continues be published from its other locations.</p><p>Driving by, Joe Vculek, a local photographer, farmer and unofficial local historian, peeked into the bin, noticing that many bound volumes of old newspapers were among the doomed rubbish.</p><p>“There’s no law against taking stuff from dumpsters,” Vculek declared. (Later, it was learned that their actions were legitimate since the dumpster was parked on a city street and not on private property).</p><p>Vculek took some loose newsprint scraps for study, and decided to share the discovery with Denise Lauver, Director of the Wahoo Public Library. Erin Hauser, Curator of the Saunders County Museum, joined the group that met that evening at the dumpster site.</p><p>Lauver later explained that Wahoo Police Department Chief, Joe Baudler, was notified of the group’s intent. (There were no police present at the recovery site or library).</p><p>The library director said her interest had first been piqued when she spotted the dumpster and some of its contents during her morning walk.</p><p>Subsequent inquiries by Vculek revealed that Lee Enterprises maintains warehousing in Omaha and that multiple truckloads from Wahoo had already been delivered there.</p><p>Vculek agreed that the albums left behind to be disposed of are possibly duplicates of those already in the company’s vast Omaha warehouses, or are in poor condition.</p><p>But he concurred that local access to any of the newspapers in Omaha would be iffy, at best, even if the papers were digitalized. For the sake of storage room, it is common practice most everywhere to destroy such items after they are thus reproduced.</p><p>Curator Hauser is still inventorying the albums now being stored in the library’s basement. When and if the printed history is snug and safe in acid-free capsules and officially accessioned by the local museum’s board of directors, the public would then be free to experience first-hand the actual printed pages.</p><p>Future generations of local history aficionados, perhaps hungry to know more about their family trees, may thank the small gang of citizens who were willing to dive deeply into a dumpster to bring the printed words to a safe harbor here at home.</p><p></p><p><strong>Purple Streetlights May Pose Danger</strong></p><p>One by one, many LED streetlights in the southwest part of Wahoo (the Lower West Side?) have recently begun emitting weird purplish-blue rays instead of the formerly bright white lighting.</p><p>This eerie color transformation is on the increase here in our town, causing a potential safety hazard.</p><p>The prestigious Scientific American issue of September 27, 2023 suggested that “…the hue of the light illuminating a roadway could affect how drivers and pedestrians perceive their surroundings as they make their way through the night. And that makes purple streetlights a potential safety hazard.”</p><p>I first noticed the purpling last spring around Chestnut and First streets. It has continued to spread in that general area.</p><p>The purpling is spreading steadily now, day by day. I estimate that a dozen or more are already tuned strong purple, and a lot more show signs of the deterioration. One can actually watch the progress of a defective light as it grows more purple.</p><p>I haven’t yet noticed this phenomenon in other parts of the city.</p><p>But Wahoo is not alone. Cities all over the nation have encountered this low-profile phenomenon over the past few years.</p><p>In 2021, the city of Lincoln began quietly replacing thousands of the faulty LED streetlights. That city said the manufacturer would foot that bill, and indicated that the labor costs involved would also be addressed.</p><p>The Scientific American stated that the bright purple light suggests the phosphor layer around the lights has been “delaminated”—peeled off—exposing the blue LED light underneath.*</p><p><em>*</em><a target="_blank" href="https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/streetlights-are-mysteriously-turning-purple-heres-why/#:~:text=It%20is%20hard%20to%20determine,LED%20light%20underneath%2C%20Brgoch%20says"><em>https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/streetlights-are-mysteriously-turning-purple-heres-why/#:~:text=It%20is%20hard%20to%20determine,LED%20light%20underneath%2C%20Brgoch%20says</em></a><em>.</em></p><p>..”American cities and towns started switching their streetlights from sodium lamps to LEDs about 15 years ago, which changed the color of many nighttime roads from yellowish orange to bright white.”</p><p>“But lately an odd new nocturnal color has been spotted across the nation—and the globe. Anecdotal reports of purple-looking streetlights have been popping up since early 2021 in states including Florida, Utah, Texas and Massachusetts, as well as in Canada and Ireland.”</p><p>The article continues: “As for the possible delamination of the lamps’ coating, it could be caused by anything: heat buildup inside the light fixture because of constant operation, vibrations from passing cars or even gravity tugging downward on the phosphor layer.”</p><p><strong><em>“Purple streetlights aren’t good for driver or pedestrian safety.</em></strong></p><p>“First, it’s possible that losing the phosphor layer dims the lamps’ brightness…</p><p>“Secondly, blue- and violet-saturated light can worsen people’s ability to see details because of the lack of blue-sensitive cones in the center of the (human eye’s) retina.</p><p>“Finally, the blue-violet light makes it very difficult to distinguish between different colors. Everything becomes a shade of blue or black.”</p><p>Pedestrians and drivers are advised to “stay safe under purple streetlights by removing sunglasses and blue-light-filtering glasses when walking or driving at night.”</p><p>Carolyn Barry, Wahoo’s Utility Office Manager, said the staff has recently been apprised of the purpling and had recently met to discuss it further.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-dumpster-diving</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:174932046</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 07 Oct 2025 11:40:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/174932046/e348243317cdd6d87968213d6a2caee6.mp3" length="11771222" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>589</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/174932046/fe6db2f178d2f9a6dee7f8262d5a9828.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Joe the Cab Driver ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>It was a Saturday night that bled into Sunday morning when Patrick Kane— the Chicago Blackhawk’s number one overall pick in the 2007 NHL draft—was arrested along with his cousin for charges of felony robbery, theft of services, and criminal mischief. The high-profile athlete was back in his hometown of Buffalo, New York. When the Kanes’s taxi arrived at their destination of Eastwood Place in South Buffalo, their fare was $13.80. They gave the driver $15.</p><p>When 62-year-old Jan Radecki gave them back a dollar and said she didn't have the other 20 cents of change, Radecki allegedly “was punched, grabbed by the throat, and had his glasses broken” by the Kanes. When police arrived on the scene, they found Patrick Kane hidden in an upstairs bedroom and his cousin with a torn $5 bill in his pocket, presumably the result of a scuffle to retrieve the money back from the cabbie.</p><p><p>I have a book coming out! Subscribe to my weekly newsletter to read the first chapter of <em>Loser*: A Survival Guide to High School Popularity</em> for free. </p></p><p>Patrick Kane ended up in court, but despite the controversy, witnesses defended Kane. It appeared the driver “locked the cousins in the car to try to keep (the Kanes) from skipping out on the fare.”</p><p>The cab driver’s attorney had his own interpretation he would tell WGN radio in Chicago.</p><p><em>“There was a dispute over the fee and it just kind of escalated from there,”</em> said attorney Andrew Lo'Tempio. <em>“It wasn’t really a robbery. That is probably a large distortion of what happened.”</em></p><p>Four months later, my buddy Josh and I would find ourselves in that same city in need of a late-night ride home of our own.</p><p>•••</p><p>We arrived at the Buffalo, New York airport with just enough time to catch the light-rail to HSBC Arena, home of the Buffalo Sabres. We were on the first leg of an international hockey trip. Over the next four days we would: watch four hockey games in two different countries, kiss the Stanley Cup, sideswipe a rental car on a Canadian freeway, stay the night in an Ottawa hostel that used to be a jail, drive to Montreal at 3AM to take a picture, get pulled over by an actual Canadian Mountie, get out of a ticket by saying we didn’t know how to convert kilometers to miles per hour, and fly to Chicago to visit Josh's girlfriend. We were poor and unpretentious, so we tried to cut costs wherever we could. Specifically, we were planning on spending the night in the Buffalo Airport.</p><p>When the game got over we caught the last train from HSBC Arena to the Anchor Bar—the birthplace of the original buffalo wing. The train wouldn't be running after we finished our late-night bar food. We didn’t know how we would get from The Anchor Bar to the Airport, and then from the Airport to a bus station to catch our early morning ride to Toronto, but we'd figure it out later.</p><p>The original buffalo wing tasted, well…, like a buffalo wing. I guess that was the point. We sampled the requisite items and then got to work figuring out what we were going to do once the bar tab was paid. Uber wasn't a thing yet, and Josh's first-generation iPhone was only equipped with first generation apps that allowed him to play Settlers of Catan and store a digital copy of his library card. We asked our waiter for advice.</p><p><em>“Do you have any tips on how get to the airport from here?”</em></p><p><em>“I’ll call you a cab.”</em></p><p>A taxicab. This elegant solution never entered our sheltered little Nebraska brains.</p><p>•••</p><p>When I think of New York taxi drivers, two archetypes come to mind. The initial stereotype is a first-generation Indian immigrant who speaks in a heavy Farsi accent. When I went to New York City with my family a few years prior, this was who picked us up from La Guardia. It was also who was driving when my mom loudly whispered, “LOOK AT HIS NAME CHRIS,” and pointed to the visor where his identification badge read "Butts Faisal.” Butts. With two t’s. As in more than one butt. My mom thought this was hilarious.</p><p>Even though Buffalo isn’t a New York City borough, it was the second type of driver who pulled up to the Anchor Bar parking lot. His name was Joe—a gruff, overweight man with a Brooklyn accent who doesn’t give no s***s ‘bout nobody. The burly <em>Sopranos</em> character rolled down his window and yelled through the opening:</p><p><em>“YOU TWO CALL A CAB?”</em></p><p><em>“Yeah, uhh… That was us.”</em></p><p><em>“WHERE YA HEADED?”</em></p><p><em>“The airport?”</em></p><p><em>“GET IN.”</em></p><p>It's a sixteen-minute cab ride from the Anchor Bar to the Buffalo Niagara International Airport, twenty-four minutes if it's obvious that you're not from around there. As he pulled away from The Anchor Bar, Joe aggressively snatched the tiny handheld radio receiver that was clipped to the dash. He spit as he talked.</p><p><em>“ 323 LEAVING NOW.”</em></p><p>The receiver was replaced with enough force to make it think twice about doing whatever it was that it did to upset Joe. He turned his attention to Josh and I.</p><p><em>“WHAT YA GUYS DOING IN BUFFALO?”</em></p><p><em>“We're actually taking a trip to catch a bunch of hockey games. We just watched the Sabres tonight.”</em></p><p><em>"YA GOT A FLIGHT OR SOMETHING?"</em></p><p><em>“No, we were hoping to get a couple of hours of sleep before taking a bus to Toronto in the morning.”</em></p><p><em>“A BUS? WELL, WHY IN THE HELL ARE YOU GOING TO THE AIRPORT?"</em></p><p><em>“We thought it would be a safer place to sleep.”</em></p><p><em>“HOW YA GETTIN TO YOUR BUS?”</em></p><p><em>“We haven 't really figured that out yet.”</em></p><p><em>“I'LL TAKE YA.”</em></p><p>He wasn’t asking. It was an order. Now that we had guaranteed a second encounter with Joe, his radio started beeping.</p><p><em>“this f****n guy he never shuts the f**k up.”</em></p><p><em>“Car 323 this is the station over BEEP… 323 report. BEEP.”</em></p><p>Joe ripped the radio receiver from the latch as if the voice on the other end was the high school point guard who slept with his girlfriend.</p><p><em>“YAH WHAT YA WANT?”</em></p><p><em>“323 report BEEP.… 323 REPORT! BEEP”</em></p><p><em>“(goddammit this f****n guy) I GOTTA COUPLE GUYS AND I’M HEADIN TO THE AIRPORT.”</em></p><p><em>“323 I need you to go to 17</em><em>th</em><em> and Handley for a call. Acknowledge. BEEP.”</em></p><p><em>“I GOTTA COUPLE OF GUYS I AIN’T GOIN…”</em></p><p><em>“323 ACKNOWLEDGE. BEEP”</em></p><p>Joe wasn’t acknowledging.</p><p><em>“323 VERBALLY ACKNOWLEDGE THAT YOU HEARD ME”</em></p><p><em>ALARM</em></p><p>Joe had hit the talk button again, overriding what the dispatcher was saying to cut him off, mid-sentence with a beep. Just to piss the guy off.</p><p><em>“323 I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING BUT I EXPECT YOU TO REPORT. VERBALLY ACKNOWLEDGE OR I AM WRITING YOU UP. BEEP.”</em></p><p><em>“Yeah I hear ya. I hear ya. I acknowledge.”</em></p><p>The car slowed until Joe came to a complete stop in the middle of the intersection.</p><p><em>“ALRIGHT. AIRPORT. NOW YOU BOYS GONNA BE RIGHT HERE AT 7AM?!”</em></p><p>Joe wasn’t asking. It was another order.</p><p><em>"YOU BETTER BE HERE. IF I’M GONNA BE HERE I EXPECT YOU BOYS TO BE HERE. 7 AM. YOU GONNA PROMISE ME?”</em></p><p><em>“Yeah… we promise…yes we'll be here "</em></p><p><em>“ALRIGHT, GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME. I’ll see you boys at 7. That'll be $23 for the ride.”</em></p><p>My friend took out his wallet and started counting bills. When he selected a $20 and a $5 out of his wad of cash, he raised his eyebrows toward me and shrugged toward the money. We were from Nebraska, we didn't know how much to tip a cab driver.</p><p><em>“YOU BOYS BETTER BE HERE AT 7.”</em></p><p>Remembering what happened to Patrick Kane as he was trying to exit a Buffalo cab, I grabbed an extra $10 out of Josh's hand and gave it to Joe—before he had a chance to lock the doors.</p><p>•••</p><p>Sleeping in an airport was even less comfortable than we expected. Terrified we would miss our official meeting time, we woke a full hour before Josh's alarm. We found our agreed upon rendezvous point and at 6:58AM, a yellow cab pulled up.</p><p><em>“I GOTTA SAY. YOU BOYS ARE GOOD. BUT I’M BETTER. I TURNED DOWN TWO RIDES TO PICK YOU BOYS UP."</em></p><p>Joe had apparently patched things up with the dispatcher. He attempted small talk.</p><p><em>“WHAT YOU BOYS DO FOR WORK?”</em></p><p><em>“Well I'm in college still, and my buddy here is a youth pastor.”</em></p><p><em>“A PASTOR? YOU A PASTOR? DAMN… YOU KNOW THAT'S REAL GOOD. THIS WORLD IS A FUCKED-UP PLACE. YOU KNOW JUST THE OTHER DAY I HAD A GIRL SAY SHE WOULD SUCK MY DICK SO SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO PAY HER FARE. I MEAN CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? IT'S A FUCKED-UP WORLD WE LIVE IN."</em></p><p>We gave Joe another real nice tip, at least it felt really nice. It was at least nice enough for lawyers to never get involved. I turned to Josh.</p><p><em>“Wow, I don’t know to make of that. Can you believe his b******b story? You think that was true?”</em></p><p><em>“I’m not sure, but did you notice how he never said whether or not he accepted the b******b?”</em></p><p>Somehow, I have a feeling Joe was one to follow through. After all, he did pick us up on time.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-joe-the-cab-driver</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:173719064</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 30 Sep 2025 12:29:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/173719064/4391ab1156a5c546002e08b8de39debd.mp3" length="11374649" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>569</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/173719064/229eeaf619bd55a328102a7de8f3cbe0.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: My Parent's 50th Wedding Anniversary]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p></p><p>My parents had their 50th anniversary this year, and during their party, I pulled them aside to ask them a series of questions about their relationship. My six -year-old son and eight-year-old daughter came up with the initial questions, but since those were all pretty stupid, we asked AI to write the rest of the interview for us.</p><p>This is that interview.</p><p></p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p></p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>All right. You remember the newlywed game?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Yes, I do.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>This is the 50th anniversary game.</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Oh, my goodness.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>The questions were made by your family members and ChatGPT. So you're going to do it and then we're going to make dad do it.</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Oh my.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>See if the answers line up later. First question. Do you think kissing is lovely?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>In the early days?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Yes.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Do you think hugging is lovely?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Yes.</p><p>MOM:</p><p>I don't think anything is lovely. Yeah, I like hugging.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Would you rather kiss or hug?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Hug.</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Hug, I guess.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Did you guys like each other when you kissed?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Yes.</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Did the kids make up these questions?</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>These are the kids ones. This is the last kid one.</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Okay. Well, yes.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Okay. What is one thing your spouse still does after 50 years you still secretly find adorable or mildly annoying?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Mildly annoying. I find it annoying when he likes to help me cook.</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Jeez, I don't know. I'm playing two questions at the same time here. The annoying part, I've kind of blown all that off. I don't know if any of it annoys me anymore. Anything that did annoy her. So then if we don't go there, we got to go the other way. The way she takes care of children.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>That's annoying?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>No, that's... </p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>That's adorable?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What car did your wife have when you first met?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>What what?</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What kind of car did she have when you first met?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>She didn't have one.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>No? How'd she get around?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>She was either with her friends or I think she might have borrowed the family car. Or when we first met, it was mostly me getting her around.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What kind of car did you have?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>I want to say that was either a Ford or the Rambler. I don't know if I still had the Ford. I think I had the Ford. We spent more time on my brother's Cutlass, though, after I come back from the Army, so I think the Ford. I'm going with the Ford.</p><p>MOM:</p><p>He borrowed his brother's car, I think. And then his first car was a Nova, I think. No, it was a Rambler. Never mind, it was a Rambler.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What color was it?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Bluish.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Okay. Who said, I love you first, and how long did it take?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>I don't remember. But, you know, he went to the service right away, and then we kind of reconnected. So, from the first I met him, probably, I don't know, two years?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Probably me.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>How long did it take?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>I don't know. Months.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What was your spouse wearing on your first date?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>I have no clue.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What were you wearing?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>No clue. I suppose jeans.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Were they clean?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Yes, I'm sure they were.</p><p>MOM:</p><p>No clue.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What was your first date?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>We double dated with our friend and went to the drive-in theater.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What movie was playing?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Don't know.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Did it go well?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Well, I met up with them again.</p><p>DAD:</p><p>The first one I remember was going to Taco John's, and she didn't know what she wanted, whether hot. I just got her soft shells with hot sauce, the hottest of head. She didn't say anything about the second or third bite.</p><p></p><p>I ate seven of them.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Sounds romantic. If your spouse could relive one vacation you took together, which would he pick?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Which would he pick? I think he liked the trip we took when I had a conference in Vegas and we went didn't have any destinations, but we drove to Scott's Bluff and down through Utah and then over to Nevada and South Bryce Canyon along the way.</p><p>DAD:</p><p>She was kind of sick on her honeymoon. That probably wouldn't be it. I'm going to go with first trip to Vegas.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What is your wife's go-to comfort food or favorite snack?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>I'm not aware she has one. Licorice.</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Anything.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Which of you is more likely to start a small project that turns into a weekend-long adventure?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Me.</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Not me.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What song would your wife say is your song, like your couple's song?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Don't know. She's always reminding me. I didn’t see that big microphone there?</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What did you say it was your song?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>As a couple?</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Don't have a clue. She would remind me, probably.</p><p>MOM:</p><p>My song?</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Like your couple song.</p><p>MOM:</p><p>It was called The Wedding Song back in the 70s. It really was. It was called The Wedding Song.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Your song was called The Wedding Song?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Uh-huh.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Who sang it?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>I don't know.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What's the most unusual gift your spouse has ever given you?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Oh, my goodness. He gave me a stuffed cat that had stitches in his eye.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Did you like it?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>It made me laugh.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>When was this?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>First Christmas.</p><p>DAD:</p><p>I don't know. I probably have to walk around the house to figure it out.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Who's the better driver?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>She probably is.</p><p>MOM:</p><p>I'm gonna not say.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What was your husband's favorite activity when you first met?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Driving around in his car.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Favorite things she liked to do when you first met?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>I suppose driving around, I guess. Seeing friends.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What was your first reaction when you first met your spouse?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>I'm gonna... I'm looking for the word… Wouldn't be confused…On alert.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What was your first reaction when you first met your spouse?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>Neutral.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>What flavor was your wedding cake?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>I think it was vanilla.</p><p>DAD:</p><p>I think it was white, I think. I'm going to go white.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>White?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>White.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>White's a flavor?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Yeah, white's a flavor. Whatever white is, I don't know what flavor is white.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Not brown.</p><p>DAD:</p><p>Yeah, it's not brown.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>After 50 years, what's one thing your spouse does that reminds you why you love them?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>The way she cares.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>After 50 years, what's one thing your husband does that reminds you why you love him?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>I don't know when he gets gentle.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>Okay, anything else you want to say?</p><p>MOM:</p><p>It's went by quickly.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>How romantic… Anything else you want to say?</p><p>DAD:</p><p>I might be in enough trouble already. I don't know.</p><p>CHRIS:</p><p>All right. Happy anniversary.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-my-parents-50th</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:173365450</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 23 Sep 2025 10:43:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/173365450/61813089ad1d7f08773adc34b235717d.mp3" length="9625623" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>602</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/173365450/b12d1e28bf126d11c61c00b96e31ac1f.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Carnivals ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p></p><p>When I was growing up in Wahoo in the 1940s and early ‘50s, carnivals made my summer vacations even more golden.</p><p>That’s right, carnivals PLURAL, three of them. (Four, counting Ashland’s, but I couldn’t walk that far.)</p><p>First off, there was the downtown Wahoo street carnival (today barely remembered by most people), second was the Saunders County Fair carnival, and third, of course, late summer bought the giant Nebraska State Fair to Lincoln. (Our parents had to drive us to that one.)</p><p>Summer was, and still is, my favorite season. Besides the carnivals, it meant freedom from school-time imprisonment.</p><p>I would get the potato fork out to dig for bait earthworms, call my faithful dog, Brownie, hop on my bike and pedal out to fish for bullheads in Sand Creek near Dance Island, a mile east of town.</p><p>I could finally go barefoot and shirtless (if Mom said OK), and we could go hiking north out of town to First, Second and Third Bridges along the Chicago & North Western railroad’s spur line.</p><p>But best of all were the carnivals. I remember the downtown street carnival most fondly, even if it was the smallest. It was set up on Fifth Street, arranged by the Wahoo Chamber of Commerce to draw customers to downtown.</p><p>The Copperstone-owned Wigwam Café was actually our home base those days. Hank and Irma, my sisters Rochelle and Janie, and I spent most of our waking hours there. Mom opened up at 6 a.m. and started cooking. Dad came in at 11 a.m. until he “closed up” around midnight. We kids floated in and out of the Wigwam until we were old enough to go to work there at the prevailing wages of 50 cents an hour.</p><p>During the early summer the street carnival would caravan into town and park smack under my nose, right at the Wigwam’s doorstep on Fifth Street. I watched in awe as the roustabouts built the Ferris wheel and other rides and set up the other attractions. Best of all, I could merely step out the front door and be in carney heaven. I picked up some interesting language from the carnies, too.</p><p>At the end of July, following the downtown show, a travelling carnival would set up for two full weeks of excitement at the Saunders County Fairgrounds. Year after year, kids could count on these joyous gatherings.</p><p>But in 1989, the amusement companies boycotted the Wahoo venues en masse, threatening to leave a void in summer fun. There had been a statewide spate of carnival accidents and injuries in the news, and calls for safety measures followed.</p><p>Local inspectors apparently had insisted on strict safety measures, and carnival owners from across the Midwest dug in their heels in protest. Word spread until finally the Saunders County Fair was unable to hire a single merry-go-round. A huge chunk of childhood joy was in peril.</p><p>But parents countywide came to the rescue, making their own carnival. The barren fairgrounds sprouted improvised dart-throw, ring-toss and other game booths staffed by local adult volunteers. The children took the change in stride and crowded the makeshift midway.</p><p>In succeeding years the group gained momentum, forming the Saunders County Amusement Association. The immediate results were small, but the seeds of a bigger carnival had been sowed. The concept took hold and grew, and soon they were able to purchase a Ferris wheel -- the only ride that year.</p><p>The line of patient ticket-holding kids snaked across the midway. That bare-bones effort was both painful but wonderful to watch, as it showed that the public and children appreciated whatever the SCA could give them, with a promise of more and better to come. More rides were added as seasons passed and ticket sales grew. To this day, the Saunders County Amusement Association’s aims have held true:</p><p><em>“The Saunders County Amusement Association was founded in 1989 and owns and maintains all of the rides and games present at the Midway of the Saunders County Fair. The S.C.A.A. boasts of a Ferris wheel, the Casino, the Scrambler, a roller coaster, and the Octopus along with a various selection of kiddy rides. … Each ride and game takes tickets purchased at a central booth. ... Our members maintain [and operate] the rides. … We rely heavily on volunteers. … Money from ticket sales goes towards insurance, inspections and upkeep of the rides, including … the purchasing of equipment.”</em></p><p>Over the years the volunteers have given local kids a rich summer experience right in their back yards, shunning those dangerous travelling outfits with their often-rough crews. And the midway continues to thrive with more and upgraded rides.</p><p>Today the SCAA stores and hauls its equipment in trucks that still bear the original garishly painted lettering and images, purchased from failed carnival companies.</p><p>Wouldn’t it be ironic if some of those outfits that had to sell us their trucks were among those who wanted to drive our now-thriving and safer carnival out of business?</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-carnivals</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:170978693</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 09 Sep 2025 10:52:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/170978693/ae2386dab81b28acc7605227e0673133.mp3" length="8383140" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>419</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/170978693/b67c70eab4a9f0c47b8845936cddd070.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Summer Time ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p></p><p><strong>Root Beer Recollections</strong></p><p>Pulling memories out of one's childhood is often a risky, hit-and-miss effort, and the results may sometimes (most of the times?) fall short of absolute historical accuracy.</p><p>Often, I will pluck a plum from my memory, only to have friends or relatives who were there with me pluck altogether different fruits from their own remembering.</p><p>Which are the correct ones? Oddly enough, all of them are the right ones, and none are incorrect, per se. Each human memory is colored, edited, beautified and even blocked by our each of our personal experiences.</p><p>Today, my capricious memory drifts to the unlikely topic of ROOT BEER, and the role the soft drink played in Wahoo during the summers in the 1950s.</p><p>We gathered there and refreshed ourselves with frosty mugs of root beer. I often watched the counter help dip the clean mugs into a basin of clear water and immediately pop them, still dripping wet, into a freezer chest to allow an icy coating to form.</p><p>I remember there was a succession of two root beer outlets during those years, both of them at the Fourth and Linden site.</p><p>The first was a wonderfully bizarre Richardson’s Root Beer brand outdoor trailer stand in the shape of a gigantic root beer barrel. It occupied the parking pavement across Fourth Street north of the high school. There was an eager student customer base, including me.</p><p>The second root beer vendor was indoors, behind the barrel stand’s former location fronting Linden. The brick-front building had been the Lampert Hatchery site (today it’s occupied by insurance agencies).</p><p>The Lamperts, who owned the hatchery, might have been the proprietors, but I don’t know for sure.</p><p>I do, however, have a vivid recollection of what it felt like, on a blazing hot summer day, to take great gulps of rich, tangy- sweet root beer, and feel little bits of the mug-frost touch my tongue on the ambrosia’s way down my throat.</p><p>Oh, Yeah! Summertime!</p><p></p><p><strong>Town Softball Field Beckoned to Kids</strong></p><p>In the early 1950s, and probably including the late 1940s, Wahoo had its own men’s softball league field in the southwest corner of town at Second and Laurel streets.</p><p>Today the ball field has long since vanished, replaced by (or perhaps restored to) corn and soybean cultivation. At the time, Dr. Frank Machovec owned and farmed the acreage where the ball field area stood.</p><p>The field itself was pretty basic, with a single loudspeaker, no dugouts as such, and sparse spectator seating. But it sported a carefully hand-raked infield.</p><p>Surrounding Saunders County towns and villages fielded teams, and the Wahoo Democrat newspaper usually published the scores. I think there was a team from as far away as Fremont.</p><p>I don’t remember much about the makeup of the team. They were just hometown boys and men who loved to play the game. They didn’t produce any major league stars like Wahoo’s Pioneer Nite Baseball League’s Bob Cerf.</p><p>Often they would hire a stable of riding burros for a rousing donkey softball game that drew a nice crowd. The mayor and town businessmen and merchants awkwardly rode the stubborn beasts to the cheers of the crowd.</p><p>I was small and skinny, so one night I was picked to ride a large, mean-looking sheep for the “mutton-busting” feature.</p><p>I was confident that I would be a rodeo hero that night. A big guy picked me up and plopped me astride the animal at home plate.</p><p>I immediately grabbed two handfuls of matted wool before the big guy unexpectedly goosed the skittish beast. I had no chance to clamp my legs tight, and we galloped full speed up the infield. I didn’t even reach the pitcher’s mound, but was awkwardly unhorsed (de-sheeped?). Score: Sheep 1, me, 0.</p><p>* * *</p><p>In 1950, when I was 11 or 12, school had let out for the summer, daylight lingered, crickets were chirping, and long summer evenings stretched out before me and my buddies. My cousin, Gary Kracman, was probably my most constant companion. We needed a place to vent our restless energy.</p><p>We found that vent in the lighted (actually low-wattage by modern standards) softball field. It was a beacon for restless pre-teen boys. It was often where the action was in Wahoo on any given night..</p><p>We didn’t watch a lot of the games, though. For instance, cigarette butts could be scrounged from under the rickety wooden stands.</p><p>Some of us dared to put the vile stubs to our lips and gingerly lit them. We would suck, puff, cough, retch, and then quickly spit them out. There were no king-sized or filter cigarettes yet, making the short discards’ burning tips mighty close to the face. Our throats burned, bits of used tobacco clung to our tongues, and a nasty taste lingered in our mouths.</p><p>We certainly found no physical pleasure in this foul activity, but we did it because smoking was a grown-up, daring, rite of passage thing to do.</p><p>We also used the dark ball field corners to plan nighttime raids on local watermelon and tomato patches.</p><p>I know that our summer antics were nothing like those of the kids in the excellent 1986 movie, “Stand By Me.” We didn’t have a dead kid’s body to find in Wahoo, like in the movie, but the ball field still served our entertainment purposes well.</p><p>In 1950 Wahoo, though, after the game, as the outfield lights were snapped off and the car engines were starting up, almost everybody had experienced a fulfilling night.</p><p>The spectators got their money’s worth (a few coins), the unsalaried ballplayers played athletically well (win or lose), and the concession stand drew in a few bucks.</p><p>As for us kids, we had stayed out of trouble for another summer vacation night and matured a little bit more, all in a safe, friendly, family environment.</p><p>Best of all, we had enjoyed the type of fun that had beckoned us in the first place to the bright lights of our town’s priceless (to us) softball field. Pulling memories out of one's childhood is often a risky, hit-and-miss effort, and the results may sometimes (most of the times?) fall short of absolute historical accuracy.</p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-summer-time</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:170924050</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 02 Sep 2025 10:55:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/170924050/34531da83726ecabdf1d20ede18075a4.mp3" length="10743043" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>537</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/170924050/9b075e91fc19445a19cb35b01bf2de17.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Teenage Snacks]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p></p><p><strong><em>I Was a Teen-Age Soda Jerk</em></strong></p><p>Beginning at age 10 in 1949, and lasting through my teen years, I found myself rather unwillingly behind the soda fountain, feeding and refreshing the sugar-rushed customers at downtown Wahoo’s Wigwam Café.</p><p>My parents, Hank and Irma Copperstone, had purchased the Wigwam, along with partners Clair (Muzzy) and Dorothy (Dodo) Miller.</p><p>My sisters Rochelle and RoJane (Janie) and I were, of course, pressed into service to help make a go of the family business.</p><p>I was paid the prevailing wage of 50 cents per hour.</p><p>Along with many other chores, I was expected to pursue soda jerkery.</p><p>I found myself behind the fountain area's front counter, among tubs of chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, orange and cherry sherbet ice creams, and at least a dozen syrups in a seemingly inexhaustible number of flavors.</p><p>To my right was the ubiquitous Coca-Cola (later Pepsi-Cola) dispensing machine.</p><p>Behind me were the malt powder dispenser and several green Hamilton Beach Mix-Master malted milk machines. Below them were the five-door refrigerated cabinets that held the bottles of pop and the sandwich board (to the left of the fountain) lettuce and other condiments.</p><p>What we called bottles of “pop,” New Yorkers and most of the eastern states called “soda” or “soda pop”. We knew better.</p><p>When a waitress turned in an order for a chocolate soda, I would grab a tall, thick, tapered and footed glass off the shelf behind me.</p><p>I’d shoot a healthy slug of chocolate or other flavor of syrup at the bottom, followed by a scoop of vanilla ice cream; add another shot of syrup, then one more scoop of ice cream.</p><p>Placing the glass under the water fountain, I would shoot a thin, strong stream of carbonated water along the inside of the glass, careful not to break up the ice cream balls.</p><p>If done right, this stream built up a tasty head of foam that floated the ice cream to the top. A spoonful of marshmallow sauce topped with a maraschino cherry completed the sweet concoction.</p><p>A couple of paper straws and a silver, long-handled spoon slid down inside, and the sweet concoction was lifted onto the black marble countertop, ready to be admired by the whole room and taken to the sweets-seeking customer.</p><p>I had jerked yet another genuine Wahoo ice cream soda.</p><p>Take that, New York!</p><p></p><p><strong>Ptomaine-Tortured Teens Tour Toddling Town</strong></p><p>Recently I came across a scrapbook souvenir of my 1957 Wahoo High School senior sneak day, which featured a memorable "Special Train" ride for what they called a "Students' Educational Trip to Chicago."</p><p>Oh, it was special, all right, and very educational (in a sick sort of way) as we learned on the train ride home.</p><p>During that ghastly return trip, we were forced to learn an anatomy lesson on the internal functions of the human gut, and its fascinating ability to purge itself of the contents of the Burlington Route's special chicken casserole, served with a side of ptomaine.</p><p>The hands-on lab featured about half the students aboard who had ordered the chicken dinner. Misery soon began flowing from multiple orifices.</p><p>I don’t remember what, if anything, the school did to chastise the railroad for poisoning its children. But someone dropped the ball.</p><p>If this food-poisoning had occurred today, the Burlington bigwigs would face an army of ambulance-chasing lawyers, as well as outraged parents howling to have the perpetrators’ craniums and/or rear parts surgically removed and served up on platters. The whole episode would have been photographed and posted to the social media and gone viral.</p><p>My memory, six decades later, is fuzzy about some of the details. Chicago was interesting, to be sure, but most of us had been up all that first night and were half-asleep during the tour.</p><p>But my olfactory senses’ own memory banks have not failed me after all these years and, yes; I remember well what our homecoming smelled like, and what the seemingly endless retching and voiding felt like.</p><p>* * *</p><p>To add to the misery, the following week the Wahoo Newspaper carried a story about the miserable trip.</p><p>Bear in mind that the victims of the poisoning were children of the readers, and suffered greatly.</p><p>But the story, edited and most likely written by the owner of the paper, Guy Ludi, downplayed the whole thing.</p><p>To read his story, we were little darlings who all got tummy-aches. No, Guy, we didn’t. We went through the hell of unending vomiting, explosive diarrhea and overflowing toilets.</p><p>I don’t know what the railroad did with our reeking railroad car with its slickened aisles after we arrived at the Lincoln train station.</p><p>If we suffering children had had our way, though, the car would have been switched to a siding and torched. Preferably with the railroad’s food-handlers locked inside.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-teenage-snacks</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:170890385</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 26 Aug 2025 10:40:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/170890385/cf345adbc8fd805c1804fa1bd04b9750.mp3" length="9337655" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>467</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/170890385/b1b809b31a3aa61efd3fc9971a6d2417.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Farm Memories ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p><em>Hi, folks: I'll share with you some fond memories of harvest time on the farm.</em></p><p><em>I know that most of you were never farmers. Me, neither.</em></p><p><em>But thanks to my Aunt Clara and Uncle Jerry Bartusek, the seeds of farm memories were planted deeply into my young mind, and I am gleefully reaping their harvest today.</em></p><p><em>Here is my take on the memories, written for the upcoming newsletter of the Saunders County Nebraska Genealogy Seekers (Gen Seekers).</em></p><p></p><p><strong>Farm Harvest Memories</strong></p><p>My favorite adventures as a young boy were not at any sleepover camp, but at my Aunt Clara and Uncle Jerry Bartusek’s farm, especially during harvest time.</p><p>Often, I and my sisters, Rochelle and Janie, went there in the summertime, when we were set to work</p><p>Bringing in the harvest bounty took a lot of sweat and toil out of this pre-teenager. But I realize today that the work ethic learned on the farm helped me as I morphed into adulthood.</p><p>The farm was just north of Ceresco. It skirted the old Highway 77 stretch that was abandoned to become a gravel road because the new highway had shifted further east on its way to Wahoo.</p><p>Like hundreds of other farm dwellers in Saunders County, Clara and Jerry and my older male cousins would come to Wahoo on Saturdays to buy groceries, visit and gossip, drink beer, play pool, and watch the livestock auctions at the Sale Barn down by the Fairgrounds.</p><p>At the close of any Saturday night, I had the option of hitching a ride to the farm and staying for a week or more. Whenever I took that opportunity to break the monotony of a long summer vacation in town, I knew I would be put to chores from the time of the rooster’s first crow until I dropped bone-weary into one of Aunt Clara’s feathertick beds.</p><p>My stern Uncle Jerry, who always scared me and my young cousins a little bit, seemed to tolerate me when I grew older. At least he didn’t scowl at me too much as I became a useful farm laborer.</p><p>I learned later that Jerry (originally Jarislav), as a young immigrant from Moravia in Eastern Europe, had survived really tough times there, as well as in America. To boot, he was a Great Depression survivor during the “Dirty Thirties.” By the time I came along, he had hardened into a taciturn, gruff man with the weight of the farm’s survival on his back, who did not suffer little children lightly.</p><p>Later, after I quit being a child, I was startled and delighted to discover him to be a friendly, delightful man with a quick, roaring laugh. I had to keep reassuring myself that he was, indeed, the same scary, scowling Uncle Jerry.</p><p>I stayed at the farm most any time of the year, but it was during harvest that I was most useful, worked hardest, and remember best.</p><p>The toughest chore for me was shocking the oats crop. The farm still worked horses at the time, so part of the bottom northeast field was planted in oats. The grain would either be fed to horses or sold.</p><p>Using ancient cast iron mowers, rakes, binders and other equipment that lay unsheltered in the fields since last year’s harvest, Uncle Jerry cut the crop (1st step), raked it into windrows (2nd step), bound them into bundles (3rd step) and laid them on the ground.</p><p>Shockers (that’s my cue) would then gather three or more of the twine-bound bundles together (4th step) and stand them up into small tepee shapes in order to keep them dry and await the threshers (5th step). The grain heads would rot on the ground if they weren’t shocked into rain-shedding position, which also made them easier to pick up for threshing.</p><p>We would spend all day in the ripened fields under the burning sun. Lunch breaks were welcomed, and we’d trudge back to the farmhouse for Aunt Clara’s cooking. During harvest, she toiled nearly non-stop over her hot kitchen’s cast iron, cob-burning stove. She’d churn out four meals a day, one after another, to fuel the harvest crew -- breakfast at sunup or before, lunch about 9:30, dinner at 2, and supper at sundown.</p><p>Soon enough, we were finished shocking and had the oats prepared to be brought in. The following Saturday, I rode with the farm family back to Wahoo. I was a thoroughly work-wearied young boy by this time, but I carried with me a satisfied sense of a harvest job well-done. It had felt good working side-by-side with adults who considered me their equal at the chore, smiling approval at my efforts. Uncle Jerry even gave me a bit of a grin as I got out of the car and said my good-byes.</p><p>That serene sense of accomplishment would linger with me until the following autumn, when the call of the harvest would again beckon me to “go out and shock them oats.”</p><p></p><p><strong>Fragrant Cattle & Café Stir Sale Barn Memories</strong></p><p>Today, Lee Maly’s Branding Iron Café is a popular place at the livestock auction site near the Saunders County Fairgrounds.</p><p>But I wonder who remembers the building’s roots in mid-century Wahoo.</p><p>As a small boy I and my cousin Gary Kracman used to poke around on Saturdays. We called it simply the Sale Barn.</p><p>On weekdays I would dig for earthworms in a ditch on the west side of the buildings to bait my hook for bullheads in Sand Creek near Dance Island.</p><p>Saturdays were big deals at the Sale Barn when farmers would buy and sell livestock, chat with neighbors, talk crops, get breakfast or lunch, and watch the auctions.</p><p>* * *</p><p>This is where today’s Branding Iron Café building intersects with my childhood’s oral history.</p><p>Since perhaps 70 years ago, the wooden superstructure shell of the building has not held livestock but mostly was for storage.</p><p>The building nearest east First Street in front of the actual auction barn itself originally was open at both ends, kind of like a corncrib, with a pathway down the middle and individual stalls along each side. Farm wives would use the stalls to display their baked goods, dressed or live chickens and eggs, along with other household yard-sale type items.</p><p>After the auctioneers finished selling livestock, they would move the sale to the front building, walking down the aisle and selling from the stalls.</p><p>Hardly a trace of the building’s livestock past remains today, from floor to roof. And that’s a good thing -- there’s enough built-in nostalgia for its cafe past to be worthy of preservation.</p><p>I like the idea of the Branding Iron’s location, smack in a rural atmosphere that bespeaks hearty farmers’ and cattlemen’s hard toil and sharp appetites.</p><p>That’s probably why one of the state’s famous restaurants, Johnny’s Café in Omaha, has been able all these years to attract customers to dine in the same neighborhood as the once-fragrant Omaha Stockyards.</p><p>Today, what’s left of me and my childhood applaud Lee Maly and her worthy business enterprise in Wahoo.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-farm-memories</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:170093040</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 19 Aug 2025 10:43:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/170093040/dc374a7740104953221e03d15f891501.mp3" length="11852202" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>593</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/170093040/13ef7a70eedc071e11ad41bac9b6684a.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Fremont, Nebraska ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p>The placement of the city of Wahoo on Nebraska road maps quite handily positions Wahoo almost equidistant from each of three of the largest cities in the state.</p><p>Omaha: (approximately) 45 miles; Lincoln: 40; Fremont: 35.</p><p></p><p>Wahoo had its share of good doctors, optometrists, dentists, general practitioners and such, but for more specialized cases, we relied on a creaky-old bus system to take us to one of the Big Three cities.</p><p>I have loved big-little Fremont since I was growing up in Wahoo in the 1950s.</p><p>During those days we could catch the Arrow Stages or Capitol Stage bus lines (I forget which one ran to Fremont) and ride in the swaying, pitching belly of the smoking, road-weary yet dependable buses to Omaha, Lincoln or Fremont.</p><p>Fremont was not too big, and I felt more comfortable there than in Omaha or Lincoln .</p><p>Looking back on my years at Wahoo High, I remember I strived to remain with in-fashion clothing as far as my meager funds would allow.</p><p>To my delight, and for reasons that continue to escape me, I had been selected in 1957, my senior year, to be Principal “Mo” Christenson’s office aide for a couple of periods each day, and I wanted to be well-dressed for the part.</p><p>I don’t know why the principal so honored me; no other woodshop classmate had been asked. (To my lasting shame, I snickered with other students in referring to the balding gentleman behind his back as “Skinhead”. I knew that he deserved better than that.)</p><p>I dressed spiffily on school days, following the latest trends. I even owned a pair of blue-suede shoes, along with those gaudy, diamond-patterned argyle socks, of course.</p><p>One time I grew out my hair as best I could and wanted the Central Barber Shop’s Ray Gillette to cut me a ducktail. Not enough hair there, though, and I resorted to my usual crew-cut.</p><p>I made the best of the flattop by keeping the cocks-comb frontal ridge of hair standing at attention. I applied frequent slatherings from a pocket-sized jar of a greasy substance brand-named “Butch Wax”.</p><p><em>To get back to my memories of Fremont:</em></p><p>Fremont was often the destination of our annual day-long state high school music competitions. Win or lose, we always had fun in Fremont.</p><p>Sometimes, if we couldn’t find a certain contest venue among multiple sites just north of downtown, we weren’t afraid to ask anyone on the street to give us directions.</p><p>Some of us kids took the opportunity to run mildly amok.</p><p>I didn’t witness it, but one year I heard that a bunch of husky football players ganged up to prank their music teacher’s tiny sub-compact Henry J-brand automobile. The car, from the Kaiser-Frazer corporation, had recently come on the U.S. market and was about the size of a Crosley.</p><p>The kids hoisted the teacher’s car and parked it sideways and immobile in the tight slot between two brick buildings.</p><p>The teacher, grinning helplessly, showed up to drive home, and reacted as the kids had hoped. Then the brawny boys extracted the Henry J, and everyone (except the teacher) got their chuckles.</p><p>* * *</p><p>The Fremont music contest offered the perfect opportunity to strut my fashion stuff, and I was ready for it.</p><p>But to my chagrin, it turned out that it also allowed me to make a perfect ass of myself with my choice of costume.</p><p>During the late 1950s, the fashionistas gracing the nation’s campuses were wearing the odd color combination of charcoal-black and pink clothing. I had to get me some of that.</p><p>I don’t remember where I purchased the charcoal trousers, pink sports coat, pink shirt, and pink & charcoal necktie. This garish symphony of poor taste was topped with a ridiculously wide-brimmed charcoal-black hat with pink wide ribbon. It certainly didn’t come from Hultin-Anderson’s, or Lindley Clothing, or Penny’s, or any other Wahoo haberdashery.</p><p>Meanwhile, as the hour of my contest solo neared, I began to get the shakes. I knew that my choices of clothing may put me at risk. Still, I had nothing else to change into.</p><p>I was scheduled for a morning practice session, so I set out on the long walk to the auditorium.</p><p>I was feeling downcast and very pessimistic. I just wanted to get the misery over with. I stepped outside heavily, with all the confidence and aplomb of a kid caught stealing cookies. I looked as ridiculous as I felt.</p><p>That dread was cemented when two girls my age passed me on the sidewalk. They eyed my outfit top to bottom, then looked me squarely in the eye and actually giggled out loud.</p><p>Ouch! That stung!</p><p>The rest of the day, while my performance time drew near, I stewed over why those girls wanted to hurt me like that. Why, they didn’t even know me.</p><p>Painfully slowly, I began to realize that it wasn’t ME, as a person, that they were giggling at.</p><p>They were instead ridiculing the very thing that was nettling my own self. It was those damnable charcoals and pinks which I was unwittingly forcing into public display.</p><p>By golly, it was time for me to climb out of my self-defeating funk.</p><p>I knew right then what I must do -- and I did it.</p><p>I practically ran to the to the auditorium. I found the men’s room and ripped off the gaudy coat, tie and hat and threw them in a corner.</p><p>My confidence thus restored, I’m proud to say I sang beautifully that night, scoring the highest “Superior” rating.</p><p>And that atrocious charcoal and pink clown outfit? It never again left my bedroom closet.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-fremont-nebraska</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:169476658</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 05 Aug 2025 10:45:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/169476658/646e8f833574a651b4e2cf6d9b4304a8.mp3" length="10870520" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>543</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/169476658/8031a76e267ffde8cc11ddb76afba309.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Polar Plunging]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>I’ve never liked being called the “baby of the family,” even if it is accurate.</p><p>My sister, Denise, is 12 years older than me, so naturally our adolescent life experiences didn't have a lot of overlap. By the time I finished kindergarten, Denise was already out of the house. After she moved away for college, it didn’t take long before I noticed her spending a lot of time with a "friend" of hers named John.</p><p>I liked John, but we didn’t have much in common. He was a few years older than Denise, so the age gap between him and me was even greater than the one that kept my sister and I apart.</p><p>I didn’t realize Denise and John were dating. John was just kind of with her a lot. It wasn't until Denise showed up at our family home on Christmas Eve with an engagement ring that I put it all together, I guess they weren’t just “friends.”</p><p>John had proposed marriage earlier that day. And like any love-struck young girl, Denise’s instinctive response was,</p><p><em>"Did you ask my dad already?"</em></p><p>John admitted that he hadn't, so Denise deferred her answer pending her father’s approval. She kept the ring though.</p><p>When they arrived at the Beaty family home Denise excitedly showed off her fancy new jewelry. My mom was squealing, but John’s agony only grew.  My dad wasn’t there. He had gone to Sam’s Club, his favorite wholesale food outlet.</p><p>Now, my dad loves Sam’s Club. We went there after church every single Sunday. He never purchased snacks in quantities less than 45 and John had taken notice of this characteristic and liked to tease Denise about it. So, John wasn’t exactly thrilled when the future of his love life hung in the balance until my dad got back from bulk grocery shopping. We heard the garage door open. My dad was pulling in with his company mini-van filled with two rotisserie chickens, 36 rolls of paper towels, a gallon of dishwasher detergent, and a 4-pack of electric toothbrushes.</p><p>John got to him as soon as he was done unloading, he even helped carry some items inside to speed up the process.</p><p><em>"So, Randy, this morning I asked Denise a question."</em></p><p><em>"Oh, yeah?”</em></p><p><em>"Yeah, I asked if she would marry me."</em></p><p><em>"Oh, OK."</em></p><p><em>"…Is that OK with you?"</em></p><p><em>“Oh, well, sure… you probably know her better than I do."</em></p><p>As I watched this exchange unfold from the dining room, reality started to set in. I was getting a brother-in-law.</p><p>I didn’t get to know John (or Denise, for that matter), much better. After the wedding, they moved to Minnesota, where John picked up a new hobby: Polar plunges.</p><p>●●●</p><p>A Polar Plunge—or Polar <em>Bear</em> Plunge depending on whether or not your event is using the official trademark—involves allegedly sane people immersing themselves in freezing lake water, usually for fund-raising purposes.</p><p>In Nebraska, you hear about people running into a cold lake and then running back out.  In Minnesota, that's not a Polar Plunge. That’s just taking a bath.  </p><p>This is the Land of 10,000 Lakes, where people drive their pickups to ice fish on the middle of all ten thousand of those frozen-solid lakes. A chainsaw is used to cut a hole in the thick ice of one of those lakes and that's what you jump into. If it sounds insane, that's because it is. This was John's new thing.</p><p>I had grown to view John as a sensible brother-in-law, I thought he was someone I could trust and follow alongside.</p><p>Little did I know following in his footsteps would lead into an excruciatingly cold hole of frozen lake.</p><p>The Plunge is a fundraiser for the Special Olympics, and each year John came up with a theme and a team name that corresponded. Eventually, I got an email invite to join Team Saturday Night Live: Part 2. (John decided to Polar Plunge twice that year).</p><p>I went as the “Need More Cowbell” version of Will Ferrell and was the only one on our 5-person team that didn’t do a partner costume. John's sisters went as Wayne and Garth from Wayne’s World. And John coordinated with my Uncle Trevor to jump as Ace and Gary: The Ambiguously Gay Duo, because gay jokes were still funny back then.</p><p>Trevor was fun and more outgoing than the typical member of the Beaty/Wolf extended family. For Trevor’s birthday, my dad gave him a plastic device you use to shove up a dead deer's butthole to twist and pull out the rectum. Trevor was pumped. My Dad also liked to buy Trevor’s kids Tootsie Rolls and bicycle horns each time he visited. It's not as funny now that I have my own kids, but it’s still pretty funny.</p><p>I didn’t know Trevor very well either, and like John, he had his own Minnesota themed hobbies. He lived in Austin, Minnesota: the birthplace of everyone’s favorite processed meat cube—Spam. The only time I really spent with him was during the half a dozen times he took me to visit Austin’s Spam Museum.  He always encouraged me to come out during the summer for the Spam Jam Festival, but I never made it.  I always regretted this, Trevor really talked up the festivities, like when they fill up kiddy swimming pools with the gelatinous goo used to package Spam inside the tin cans.  Kids can take turns wading through these life-sized containers of gelatin to search for buried prizes. It’s like bobbing for apples, except instead of a sticking your face in a bucket of water, it’s gooey meat by-product.</p><p>●●●</p><p>We arrived at the lake for the Plunge. The first thing you notice is the giant tents supported by steel stakes driven into the ice, then a mass of people crowded around a 20-yard stretch of lake hole with rescue scuba divers in full wet suits on standby. Scattered off to the side you could find the four-foot-square blocks of crystal-clear ice harvested from the lake to create our nemesis.</p><p>There’s a hot tub in the middle of the frozen lake. The route goes: In the tent to stash your towel and change of clothes, out the tent to the side of the River Styx, down into hell, back out, and into the hot tub to frantically restore your core body temperature before death sits in. Then back into the tent to change into your cool new Polar Plunge long-sleeve t-shirt.</p><p>Inside the tent, the ice was covered by soggy carpet. An industrial heater was blowing hot air inside and melting a hole through the floor— making it difficult to find a dry spot to put your towel and change of clothes. No one was worried though. There was a lot of depth to go before the entire tent was swallowed into the lake. I deposited my things and stripped off all layers of clothing not Will Ferrell-related.</p><p>I was already cold.</p><p>Our entire team perched on the edge of the lake hole while a local radio host counted us down.</p><p>And then we jumped.</p><p>Animal instincts kicked in.</p><p>Stress hormones flooded my brain and overrode any rational processing. It was fight or flight. The five of us had to labor across 20 yards of liquid agony and lake sludge to reach a single ladder on the opposite corner.</p><p>A gentleman would have waited patiently to climb out, and let the women go first. A gentleman would have recognized that all five of us were suffering the same torment.</p><p>But there are no gentlemen in anguish. When I reached the exit and my salvation was near, I wasn't waiting my turn. I crawled over John's sisters and exited as quickly as my cold-numbed limbs deprived of blood flow could carry me.</p><p>I cast a passing glance over my shoulder and saw my role model John just standing there in the lake in his Ambiguously Gay costume. He was letting everyone climb out in front of him. He wasn’t in a hurry. He seemed to be enjoying himself.</p><p>Never has a jumping into a hot tub fully clothed in jeans and a Goodwill purchased long sleeve shirt been so welcomed. All of us piled in, made those “W0000OOOO" noises you make after doing something stupid, and laughed.</p><p>We did it. Then we had to get out of the hot tub so the next round of idiots could warm up.</p><p>●●●</p><p><em>''I didn't realize this was the women's tent!”</em></p><p>Trevor yelled as we all stepped in. We mingled with another bunch of wet, cold, naked men whose more prominent male bodily features had been shriveled to feminine proportions. Yes, that’s a penis joke.</p><p>We all laughed and laughed at Trevor’s one-liner.</p><p><em>“Hey, look at this!"</em></p><p>One naked old man yelled, a clump of hair in his fist. It was his own ponytail. The cold had frozen it off from the back of his scalp. I hope he kept it.</p><p>I wore my complimentary long-sleeve Polar Plunge t-shirt like a badge of honor and headed into the lakehouse.  Our families greeted us warmly, as if we were conquering heroes returning home from an Odyssey.</p><p>●●●</p><p>I joined John the next two winters. I crafted a cereal bowl out of cardboard for Team “Breakfast of Champions,” but the following year I tried a bit harder for Team “Freeze Your Fairy Tale.”</p><p>I wore a child-size Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle costume that I had torn apart and sewn back together to fit a 20-year-old body. I decided I would be the tortoise from the Tortoise and the Hare fable. I knew it would be a little confusing without the Hare, but I already had the costume from a Halloween party.</p><p>Trevor was no longer my uncle; things didn’t go well once my aunt discovered his Ashley Madison account.</p><p>Since Ace no longer had his Gary, John was also out a sidekick. A few weeks before the trip to Minnesota, he sent me a text message.</p><p>To go along with my Tortoise, he asked if he could be the Hare. My brother-in-law and I were now a tandem act. We had a shared interest, even if it was the most miserable hobby someone could have.</p><p>Then again, it was nice to get to know him better.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-a-cold-bath-with</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:151333299</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 24 Jun 2025 10:59:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/151333299/4904ac2080866971eb8a7b00b391d4a7.mp3" length="12000547" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>600</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/151333299/510c72b63685869c1626d04dc6e3ea77.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Tuesdays With Uncle Bob ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>I'm using a mint green Hermes Rocket typewriter to write this. It resides underneath my computer monitor when not in use since its low profile was designed to be so compact it could be toted around war zones for correspondences in Vietnam. Or something like that. It was the coolest looking typewriter when I typed “typewriter” into an eBay search bar after being infatuated by the documentary <em>California Typewriter. </em>It was my third typewriter, fourth if you count my Lego typewriter—which my kids do.</p><p></p><p>My second typewriter was a present from my Uncle Bob. I have two Uncle Bobs— one that’s my actual uncle and one that just acts like it. I was thrilled when my 84-year-old friend gifted me an electric cartridge Smith-Corona at the beginning of the year, but it broke after 107 pages of typing. When I fire it up now, it emits a whir and the smell of oily mechanisms exhausts through the casing, but it doesn't do anything when you mash the keys. It was also hard to track down the appropriate replacement ink cartridges, the ones I managed to find on eBay were half used and manufactured 5 years prior to my birth. I was heartbroken when the device crapped out, if for anything because it was such a thoughtful gift from a distant family member I admired.</p><p>Uncle Bob isn’t my real uncle, he’s my mother-in-law Kathy’s uncle— but Kathy isn’t really my mother-in-law either. Kathy gave birth to my wife, but gave her up for adoption. At the age of 25, Paige reunited with Kathy, and for the last decade they’ve been making up for lost time. For as long as I’ve known Paige, Kathy has been in the picture. Front and center. In high focus. She’s a professionally trained opera singer, but also had stints doing voice-overs for cartoon characters and running her own children’s musical theater. She also kissed me before Paige did. In a Cracker Barrel. On the first day we met.</p><p>I can’t remember my first meeting with Uncle Bob, but he’s kind of always been in the picture too. More in the background. Cracking one-liners. Teasing his nieces. Telling stories. Being an uncle.</p><p>And in the summer of 2024, something happened. Uncle Bob and I started hanging out.</p><p>•••</p><p>Our family was taking advantage of Kathy's above-ground pool on a summer afternoon when Bob showed up. Kathy invited him, and his arrival wasn't without ceremony since his ability to navigate via GPS had gotten dicer with the onset of his 84th year of life. He was later than the rest of us, the kids already saturated with pool water, but he became a welcome companion as I tried to avoid parenting duties inside the house amongst the cover of air-conditioning.</p><p>Kathy likes to brag, but not about herself. She finds the idea of my writing charming. She always makes a parallel to Uncle Bob's own essays whenever the topic comes up. With her two favorite author hobbyists in the same room, she couldn't help herself. She played matchmaker— insisting Bob read some of my writing out loud, then casually sliding out the back door to watch the grandkids annoy the bejeezus out of everyone that remained outside. She had a sly grin on her face the entire time, proud of herself for arranging this first date.</p><p>Because Kathy told him to, Bob read out loud every word of a 21-page essay about hunting. It had been typewritten on his gifted Smith-Corona and scanned into a pdf on my laptop. I had the laptop in tow, I was hoping to get some editing done on a memoir while I outsourced my parenting to an above-ground pool for the afternoon. Bob's delivery was impeccable. I felt like I was being told a story by my grandpa — a grandpa I never had but always wanted— but the words were my own. It would be a shame to let that beautiful old voice go to waste.</p><p>I had started doing competitive storytelling events at the Omaha Public Library and even won some impressive homemade trophies crafted by librarians. After a weekend to visit my former youth pastor turned podcaster turned close friend, I purchased a professional grade Podcast mic to turn those tales told in sparsely populated libraries into podcasts. For the inaugural episode, I needed someone to be the voice of old man baseball player Brooks Robinson. I didn't know what Brooks sounded like, but I knew what he <em>should</em> sound like after that afternoon in Kathy’s kitchen listening to Uncle Bob laugh at the word “poser” in my typewritten essay.</p><p>I didn’t act on the notion, at least not until I got an email from Kathy about how "touched" Bob was by my writing. Her word, not his. But she did send me some of Bob's words, in the form of a long email encouragement that he asked Kathy to forward. I replied back to Bob directly and asked if he wanted to be the voice of Brooks Robinson, and in exchange, I offered to record some of his own stories so we could give a CD compilation to Kathy and her sister Tina for Christmas.</p><p>Bob agreed, well he said he was <em>“inclined to accept,”</em> and we arranged a time to meet in his home in Wahoo, Nebraska to record the ghost of Brooks Robinson.</p><p>•••</p><p>It took us a while to settle on a time, mostly because I didn’t realize that the mysterious email from “402953XXXX@vzwpix.com” wasn’t spam but actually Bob attempting to contact me from his hand-me-down iPhone. Bob used to be on the cutting edge of technology—he never could understand my fascination with typewriters— but it had progressed at a pace he couldn’t quite keep up with. But he managed. Later that week, I made the 32 minute drive to Wahoo to meet Bob at his house.</p><p>Despite his <em>“little home being impossibly cluttered and tiny”</em> according to his email, we found a corner next to his desktop computer that we fashioned into our studio. I had my laptop and professional grade podcast mic crammed into a backpack, and we set up shop. I took copious notes of my surroundings, trying to capture the essence of my setting like an investigative journalist. Bob had run a side hustle for years selling antiques he accumulated on eBay, but his account had been suspended and the collection kept growing. Every corner had something interesting tucked into it, and I wanted to capture all of it. He had asked me my shoe size when I met him at the door, then offered a pair of rubber boots to take home.</p><p>Several takes later, we had the essence of Brooks Robinson captured— and Bob pulled out a printed copy of an original essay of his own. In font large enough for his 84-year-old eyes to read, printed on the clean side of recycled paper he confiscated from the discards at the Saunders County Museum. The first story was called “Yelling at the Library.”</p><p>We agreed to meet the following week with a new set of essays. And the week after that. And the week after that. For eight straight weeks we recorded Bob’s stories until the production lead time on Christmas presents forced us to draw a line in the sand for Kathy and Tina’s compilation. Bob asked if we could make a few extra copies for some friends and family, and then we decided to make a few more to donate to the Wahoo Public Library and Saunders County Museum. So we did that too. Eventually I stopped writing down notes from our interactions. I went from making observations to making memories. I no longer felt compelled to document the quirks and foibles of meeting with Uncle Bob, those quirks and foibles just got melded into my perception of Uncle Bob’s personality. I didn’t need more examples to tell me who he was— I knew. He was that goofy, crazy uncle. He was Uncle Bob.</p><p>With the CD and a companion book finished, we kept going. I got to hear more of Bob’s stories, but I also got to know Bob. My weekly travels to Wahoo became their own adventures. Bob walked me to the Wahoo library to show off our table display and gave me the tour of his basement— my favorite exhibit was the shelf full of miniature chests Bob has set aside to hold his ashes one day. I gave him tutorials on dragging and dropping files to create an email attachment, and jumped his old pickup after he accidentally drained the truck’s battery.</p><p>And we kept making arrangements to meet the following week.</p><p>Bob even found another typewriter. He offered it to me as nonchalantly as the old pair of rubber boots that I conveniently never brought up again. But this time, I made sure to collect.</p><p>When Bob’s house lost power during a thunderstorm, it fried the remains of his old desktop computer. He was able to get up and running again on an old laptop, but his creativity stalled a bit. We had released 21 finished podcast episodes and had another 22 short stories saved for later. So Uncle Bob needed some time to think of some more, luckily he has plenty of stories left to tell.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-tuesdays-with</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:162897542</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 10 Jun 2025 10:50:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/162897542/12e531ab3b509afefe281f6521b8413f.mp3" length="11211128" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>561</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/162897542/364e1db7dd8449344b49b986e273ebc6.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Secret Basement Lair]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p><strong>Coins of the Realm, and Where to Find Them</strong></p><p>While I was “Growing Up Wigwam” in the 1950s, I treated downtown Wahoo as if it were my own little kingdom.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe to read the first chapter of Chris’s upcoming book about being a loser in high school. </p></p><p>My kingdom’s capital city, of course, was the Copperstone family-owned Wigwam Café, where my very soul resided, and where I played out my royal existence.</p><p>Prince Bobby, if you please.</p><p>My royal throne was the swivel chair in the actual business office stuffed into a corner of the Wigwam’s humid basement, surrounded by the noisy clatter of the electric carbonated-water pumps</p><p>The basement -- you may remember my podcast story on Hank’s “Soil Bank” -- was where Dad was in the habit of burying silver dollars and currency.</p><p>But it was also where I, as wannabe sorcerer, turned copper into gold, in a manner of speaking. Or to be more accurate, I turned copper pennies into dollars.</p><p>You see, the Wigwam’s cash register drawer had separate coin compartments, but the penny cup was smaller. Dad would scoop the superfluous pennies into old cigar boxes in the cabinet below the register. He would periodically take several boxes of pennies at a time to the bank, where a machine would gather them in $2 rolls.</p><p>Fortunately, the 1950s and early 1960s marked the heyday of coin collection, when there were plenty of old, rare coins still in circulation, and before numismatics became big business and diminished the supply of unharvested loose change.</p><p>Of the thousands of coins that passed through my hands over the years, two pennies stand out, and I still own them – a 1909S-VDB and a 14D. I also retained hundreds of other silver coins from my Wigwam years. I keep them in a red cedar box I made in high school shop class</p><p>In addition to my copper cent treasure lode, my downtown Wahoo kingdom had a lesser, but nonetheless continual, source of pocket change.</p><p>Downtown sidewalks at the time were broader toward the curb than they are now, in order to handle the increased pedestrian traffic. And many of the buildings had shops in the basements with windows at ground level, and bump-outs into the sidewalks. Those pits were protected by iron gratings at sidewalk level (the Wigwam had a barber shop in its basement)</p><p>The grated pits made excellent traps for loose coins, and I would patrol my kingdom regularly to spot the shiny loot. There were a lot of nickels and dimes and pennies, but often a quarter would come shining through. Dimes were most plentiful, though. They are so thin and tiny that they are always escaping the human grip.</p><p>Only once did I spot a silver half-dollar deep in a pit, and I hurried to my Wigwam basement throne room where I had stashed a long piece of wooden quarter-round molding tipped with a chewing gum wad to capture the coin.</p><p>The wad on it had hardened, of course, so I dashed upstairs to grab a pack of Black Jack licorice gum (I found that to be the stickiest brand) from the candy counter and started chewing several sticks into a wad.</p><p>All this gathering of tools took time, and I finally quickened my pace. The memory of the glistening silver half-buck flashed in my mind.</p><p>I couldn’t run up the front basement stairs that spills into the dining room while carrying the long, gum-tipped wooden pole right in front of the main café’s dining customers. So I had to use the longer alley-way door up and out of the basement.</p><p>I was still several blocks from the window pit on the south side of Coast-to-Coast hardware store and upstairs FOE (Eagles club) building.</p><p>When I turned the corner I realized at once that I was too late. The coin was gone. Someone had beat me to it.</p><p>I was heartsick, but there was nothing I could do about it.</p><p>Yes, I saw it first. Yes, I was ready to do some spelunking for the treasure. Yes, in all fairness, they should have turned the coin over to me.</p><p>But even in the realm that I fancied myself as in control, it’s still a hard world out there, and I knew that my stuttering protests were to no avail. I couldn’t fight my way into possessing the wealth; I was too scrawny and the kids that took it were older and bigger.</p><p>I simply had to keep my eye to the pavement. I hit the jackpot once. I could do it again.</p><p>But I never did.</p><p></p><p><strong><em>Basement Barber Shop Elegance</em></strong></p><p>I was always fascinated by the remains of some beautiful Italian marble mosaic tiling that comprised the basement’s flooring in the front half. The room was once a barber shop.</p><p>Dad said the tiling was originally luxurious and expensive, and I used to wonder why, then, someone didn’t pick up each coin-sized tile and reinstall the mosaic somewhere else. They had been installed long ago, one at a time; such tiles weren’t made in easily-installed sheets those days.</p><p>Entry to the barber shop was via an iron-railed set of steps installed in the outside front sidewalk and leading down to the basement level.</p><p>Sunlight was admitted by two opaque glass-brick horizontal “windows” installed as part of the sidewalk. Over the decades the glass bricks became pitted, cracked, leaky, and dangerous to pedestrians, and were paved over when new sidewalks were installed by the city in the 1990s.</p><p>The cement steps, now leading up to nowhere, along with the barber shop’s wooden front door, remain in the Wigwam’s basement to this day.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-secret-basement</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:163556365</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 03 Jun 2025 11:20:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/163556365/66456f93aef8d548540dbff404001855.mp3" length="10620789" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>531</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/163556365/93225daed6c4190b0a2be38422e7a739.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: The Chicken, The Egg, and The Axe ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><em>Warning: This story contains depictions of the deaths and tribulations of cute, fuzzy and feathered little creatures. Children, non-farmers and other super-sensitive individuals may be offended by exposure to the real world.</em></p><p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe and receive the first chapter of Chris’s book about being a loser in high school.</p></p><p></p><p>Chickens -- the raising of them and the eggs from them -- played an outsized role in my boyhood in mid-century Wahoo.</p><p>Some of my recollections are pleasant. Others, not so much.</p><p>Those fowl memories occurred at my Aunt Clara and Uncle Jerry</p><p>Bartusek’s farm north of Ceresco, where I spent many a summer vacation.</p><p>Feeding the chickens was one of my chores, hauling buckets of feed around the barnyard. That was pleasant enough, watching the eternally hungry and ever-grateful flock come charging at me in a clucking and screeching cloud of dust.</p><p>But my favorite chore was what could be called the human-versus-chicken game of hide and seek that I played with the hens.</p><p>Most of the eggs were conveniently laid in the hen-house area, but Aunt Clara explained that biddy hens are endowed by nature to be super-secretive about where they made their nests and hatched their babies.</p><p>I got very good at my job. I stalked the wandering hens to their well-hidden nests and ignored their outraged squawking when I reached under their nestled posteriors to snatch a clutch of eggs.</p><p>* * *</p><p>Also in the “fond” chicken-house category are my memories of the farmers’ eternal war against the common sparrow (or <em>“spatzie,” </em>as my older cousins called them by their German name).</p><p>As cute and chirpingly charming as the sparrow is depicted in John James Audubon’s paintings, the farm boys see only infestations of disease-carrying lice hiding under those darling, fluffy feathers.</p><p>The farm’s chicken-house’s rafters were teeming every night with spatzies, which, in turn, were crawling with lice. The birds gotta go.</p><p>One autumn night, when I was very young, three of my Bartusek boy cousins rousted me from my comfy feathertick bed. They had declared war on spatzies, and I had been drafted into the troops.</p><p>That was so exciting! I was issued my weapon – a plain, wooden shingle that was wielded like a paddle.</p><p>The rules of war required us to blind the enemy with the flashlight beam. The spatzies would be panicked into flight, and we’d swat them down with our paddles, which were surprisingly efficient weapons.</p><p>All this yelling, crashing and thrashing scared the dickens out of the hens and set them all aflutter.</p><p>Aunt Clara opposed our murderous forays, not because she was a bird fancier, although she was a kindly soul and might have a soft heart toward the spatzies.</p><p>But, hell’s bells, now the super-agitated hens wouldn’t lay eggs again for the next 24 hours or longer.</p><p>Aunt Clara regularly sold the farm’s eggs every Saturday at Torrens Produce in Wahoo, and our war on spatzies resulted in less money in the family’s pocketbook.</p><p>Uncle Jerry wasn’t happy, either, at the wasting of flashlight batteries on such frivolity.</p><p>* * *</p><p>In Wahoo, as in any other rural Midwest town at that time, the lowly chicken played an important economic role.</p><p>We had the square-block-sized Blue Star Produce, an odorous chicken-slaughtering factory on the eastern fringe of downtown. It was one of the few industries bringing in dollars and jobs to Wahoo.</p><p>I got to thinking, why don’t I cash in on this poultry bonanza? I was about 10 years old, I’d been around chickens a lot, and I<em> </em>craved my own spending money. What could go wrong?</p><p>Besides, the Blue Star itself would unwillingly supply me with inventory, and for free! There were always a few flocks of wild chickens roaming the neighborhoods around the factory, escapees from the loading docks. I’ll just scoop them up and I’m in business.</p><p>I arranged with my Mom for the family restaurant, the Wigwam Café, to buy my produce. But I hit a snag when the wild chickens decided to remain wild, and could outrun me with ease.</p><p>Undaunted, I noticed that chickens couldn’t always outrun street traffic, so I picked up a couple of fresh roadkill whose intact feathers hid any carcass damage and took them to the Wigwam.</p><p>Mom agreed that they looked good. But, by the way, she asked, where did you get them?</p><p>(…Well, nice try, Bobby.)</p><p>* * *</p><p>However, Mom encouraged my entrepreneurial spirit and financed the purchase of a dozen live chicks from the Wahoo Hatchery. They were dyed different pastel colors, left over from Easter, but their feathers would soon outgrow the dyes.</p><p>I commandeered a doghouse in the back yard and staked out a chicken-wire fence around it. About 8 weeks later I produced edible broilers, as good or better than the Blue Star ever did. I don’t remember the price the Wigwam was going to pay me, but I’m sure it was fair market value.</p><p>It was early summer vacation time, and my parents had insisted that the whole enterprise was on my shoulders.</p><p>As much as I dreaded it, and we hadn’t really discussed it, I assumed the slaughtering was also my responsibility.</p><p>In my young life, I had witnessed countless killings of chickens. Aunt Clara, with grim determination and gritted teeth, would grasp the bird’s head around the neck. With a sudden strong, smooth spin of the wrist, the carcass would be flung a short distance away, and the head would still be in her fist. Nothing to it, right? It looked so easy.</p><p>Uncle Jerry, when he killed the bigger turkeys and geese, used an axe. One swift, sure chop did the job.</p><p>I went out one morning to survey with satisfaction the plump livestock that my hard work had produced. I thought I would finish the job and surprise my folks to do the killing all by myself. They’ll be proud.</p><p>So the die was cast.</p><p>I chose the neck-wringing option. It seemed quicker and less bloody. Stepping over the fence, I cornered the first unlucky pullet, which squawked and beat her wings mightily. I swallowed hard, grabbed her by the neck and gave her a tentative spin.</p><p>Big mistake! There should be nothing tentative about it. This was not like Aunt Clara’s example at all.</p><p>The intact hen landed at my feet, her neck awry, staring up at me with an accusing eye. I spun her around again, with the same useless result.</p><p>Panicking, I ran to the garage to get an axe. I wanted to use Uncle Jerry’s quick-kill method. Anything to get this nightmare behind both me and the chicken. But I managed to botch the third attempted murder, too.</p><p>The axe was heavy and I was a skinny little kid, so I had to awkwardly tuck the handle under my armpit and grip the iron blade way up front. I’d be lucky if I didn’t injure myself.</p><p>My eyes stung with tears. I brought the blade down as hard as I could on the struggling chicken's neck and ... <em>chopped off her beak!</em></p><p>That set me really wailing. Mom heard the commotion from the house and rushed to help. She quickly dispatched that hen with an expert spin as good as that of her sister Clara’s, and together we finished off the rest of the flock.</p><p>As Mom pointed out that day, my education in neck-wringing overlooked an important detail: You must grip the fowl’s neck extremely tightly. I did not do that. The neck just spun ineffectively in my loose fist.</p><p>Who knew that? I sure didn’t.</p><p>That day, I swore I’d never put myself, nor any chicken, through that ordeal again.</p><p>And I’ve spent the ensuing 70-some years keeping that promise.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-the-chicken</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:163146951</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 20 May 2025 10:50:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/163146951/6aa83102847151ff0e9037f6a989b492.mp3" length="10976054" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>686</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/163146951/11594f973bba9788f134bb9bdbb625cd.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: The Bomber Plant and the Laundromat]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p>Throughout its active existence, The Nebraska Ordnance Plant near Mead was an early part of my life in Wahoo. Some of my school-yard friends had bomb-maker parents, I guess you could say.</p><p>We children weren’t particularly aware of the bomber plant’s (That’s what we always called it, always adding the “er”) deadly but necessary wartime mission. I do remember somber snatches of gossip about how our little spot on the map could be targeted by Axis enemies with bombs of their own.</p><p>I’m sure other children shared my unease, but we didn’t dwell on it. After all, we had grownups all around us, and some of those adult relatives were soldiers and sailors, to boot.</p><p>Also, I had been experiencing the war almost from the beginning of my childhood. One of my earliest memories was of one of many 1940s nationwide blackout practice to prepare for wartime bombing raids.</p><p>Like other little kids, I thrived on pleasant routine, but this was too scary. The windows were hastily covered with blankets and heavy tablecloths and drapes. All the lights in the house were switched off, and we could peek outside and see that all the streetlights and car headlights had been doused.</p><p>* * *</p><p>A school bus carried children from the military housing units on the sole residential street to schools in Wahoo.</p><p>I’m not sure how Wahoo’s West Ward and North Ward portioned out The Plant’s incoming pupil population. And I suppose St. Wenceslaus Catholic and nearby small-town schools were involved, too.</p><p>Most of us were unaware of it, but the sudden flood of people coming in to work at the new Ordnance Plant caused a teachers’ shortage, as well as crises in staffing other professions. The bomber plant wages were quite a bit higher.</p><p></p><p><strong>From Clean Used Cars to Cleaning Clothes</strong></p><p>Not too many people remember that a downtown location at 120 W. 5th St. , now the site of the D&D Laundry, had once been the OK Used Car lot.</p><p>The site is between the Wahoo Barber & Beauty Shop wooden building on the east, and the brick Titles Lounge Sports Bar.</p><p>If you look closely, two decrepit, rusty lampposts still hide in plain sight on either side of the laundry. Each post had a high-wattage floodlight on top and, below, a cylinder light fixture fitted with four vertical florescent light tubes to illuminate the lot. Only the east cylinder remains today.</p><p>In the 1950s Chevrolet operated OK Used Car lots nationwide as adjuncts to their dealerships. Anderson Auto Co. here was just south across 5th Street.</p><p>I remember the OK lot sold other company’s brands but I’m not sure if non-GM cars were included. The main idea of the corporation connection was to reassure car buyers that Chevrolet stood behind their product.</p><p>According to motorcities.org: <em>“</em>OK Used Cars<em> had completed a series of tests [on their for-sale vehicles] before being sold to the public, including a safety inspection, drain and flush of the cooling system, complete lubrication and tire rotation.”</em></p><p>Photographer/farmer Joe Vculek, Wahoo’s unofficial historian, notes that Wahoo Implement Co. was located at that site in 1910. Later, Biggerstaff Furniture and Mortuary did business there, but the building burned down in 1948.</p><p>The site became vacant when Anderson Auto stopped doing business downtown, probably in the 1970s. The present laundry building is one of the newest in downtown Wahoo.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-the-bomber-plant-e04</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:162727775</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 13 May 2025 10:43:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/162727775/897765416a24aecd93cc03d9956cf8eb.mp3" length="7240022" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>362</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/162727775/f39f81f5ae4b9d6078e519d14518f380.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: The Bomber Plant (Part 1 of 2) ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p>Having grown up in Wahoo in the early 1940s, it was inevitable that World War II would cast a somber shadow over my childhood.</p><p>The Nebraska Ordnance Plant (“bomber plant” as it is still called) was near the village of Mead, a mere nine miles east of Wahoo.</p><p>It wasn’t talked about too much, but for years it festered in the back of our minds that our little dot on the map was certain to be in Nazi gunsights if Germany invaded the U.S.</p><p>The bomber plant gave a face to the undercurrent of a silent anxiety of war that hung like a noxious fog over many phases of our day-to-day existence.</p><p>Even though I had only a toddler’s understanding of that deeper fear, one day in about 1944, the NOP became the focus of a sudden family crisis.</p><p>My dad, Hank Copperstone, had hired on there as line foreman (his age had excluded him from the military draft.)</p><p>One day he came home unexpectedly in the middle of the day. The family gathered around him and everyone was very sad. We kids sensed the worry among the adults, and we were frightened.</p><p>Daddy was telling Mommy (Irma) that his production line had been improperly using a wooden paddle to stir the explosives, a process that made the job quicker, but was not safety-approved. Since he was a supervisor, they had to let him go.</p><p>To calm his children, Hank took us aside and, kneeling, explained sadly that Daddy had been “fired”.</p><p>After that day, I grew to adulthood with the entire family never letting me forget the time that little boy Bobby had inspected his father head to toe very closely before asking, “Daddy, where did you get burned at?”</p><p>* * *</p><p>Schools in Wahoo and other surrounding communities were strongly impacted by the NOP’s employees who lived on-site on Joyce Circle within walking distance to NOP.</p><p>Many children living there went to school in Wahoo and perhaps to other school districts in surrounding areas. I remember seeing Wahoo school buses on the gravel road (now County Road 10) that ran from southeast Wahoo directly to Joyce Circle.</p><p>Plus, almost everyone in Saunders County and nearby areas had friends or relatives who drew paychecks from the bomber plant.</p><p>The community had a nice little park in its grassy circle’s center, and there were occasional picnics and concerts open to visitors. My sisters were invited to schoolmates’ birthday parties there.</p><p>Some original homes remain today in private hands. Most are just as neat as they were in the 1940s and ‘50s. Some have added garages, sheds and other amenities. And there are still a few apparently abandoned houses.</p><p>* * *</p><p>The NOP was an enormous boon to Wahoo’s economy. I believe the plant had 24-hours of shifts. To accommodate them, the <em>Wahoo, Chief</em> and the short-lived <em>Victory </em>movie theaters offered first and second showings per night, and were frequently sold out. I remember the ticket prices were 25 cents for adults and 14 cents for age 12 and younger.</p><p>Also, there was briefly a USO entertainment center for servicemen (and presumably the NOP officers) with pool tables across the street west of the Wahoo Theater.</p><p>Almost no one today remembers the <em>Victory</em> movie theater any more. My own recollection is confined to watching a film short there about children with polio-ravaged lungs. The dreaded polio epidemic was in full force at that time.</p><p>The film showed an auditorium filled with row after row of so-called iron lungs. Children inside each machine were being kept alive and breathing. It made a huge impression on me. I didn’t want to be one of those kids! Was that my doom?</p><p>No one I talked to seems able to pinpoint the <em>Victory’s</em> location. All I can be sure of, it was somewhere off the northwest corner of Fourth and Linden streets. The theater just seemed to drift away after the war. I believe all three theaters were owned by the same pair of ladies, whose names escape me now.</p><p>* * *</p><p>After WWII, the plant’s massive bomb production waned, and the officers were reassigned and moving out of the Joyce Circle houses. It was a traumatic time for both the officers’ children and for the kids in Wahoo. They had practically grown up together.</p><p>My own family was caught up in the parting sorrow because my younger sister, Janie’s, best friend, Debbie Wallace, faced having to quit Wahoo High School and move away with her family.</p><p>But after much tearful deliberation, my family and Debbie’s agreed to take her in until she graduated in a year or so. It was traumatic for her to leave her family, but the plan worked out fine, and she graduated with Janie in 1959.</p><p>The Copperstone family’s connection with the NOP was quite strong. In addition to taking in Debbie, two years earlier my older sister Rochelle’s good friend, Bonnie Prior, roomed with us on weekday nights all through high school until graduation in 1955. Bonnie would go home on weekends.</p><p>And I learned recently that another NOP family had worked out a similar plan for their daughter. The girl finished out her high school senior year by renting a long-term room in a local motel, joining her family after graduation. I never discovered her name.</p><p>My late uncle Audry <strong><em>(sic) correct spelling)</em></strong><strong> </strong>Copperstone, who began working for Firestone at the NOP as a firefighter in 1943 until it closed in 1963, was one of the few local NOP employees who was able to keep his job, since fires are a constant danger regardless of the presence of humans.</p><p>* * *</p><p>The huge tract of farm land that was gobbled up by the NOP as a sacrifice to the powerful and soundly successful “war effort” has mostly been returned to both private use and for the University of Nebraska experimental agriculture purposes.</p><p>Gone are the armed guards at the former entrance gates, as are the half-dozen or so water towers that once dotted the skyline almost from horizon to horizon. Only a few towers remain. The massive complex of buildings that were occupied by throngs of workers has disappeared.</p><p>I am among those who innocently continued to live near-normal wartime lives while the enormous war machine that was the Mead Ordnance Plant was born, and thrived, and then died. My far-from-perfect memory, and that of others, can capture only a tiny slice of its complicated, massive history.</p><p>Surely, today there are locals like me who retain memories of the NOP’s wartime past, and I wish I could hear all of all of them. Unfortunately, we such humans are no more permanent than the bomber plant itself, or than the untold thousands of bombs made here that were dropped to win the war.</p><p>But fortunately, the nuts and bolts of the bomber plant, from inception to operation to the wrecking ball, have been captured for all time by a rich collection of photographs, newspaper articles and museum memorabilia.</p><p>If only human memories were not so fleeting.</p><p>* * *</p><p>Because of our fading memories, and the decline of the populace from that era, we seem to have arrived at a sort of forgiveness for the minus sides of the NOP. But the minuses sometimes bump up against actual facts and work against total truce. The minuses include:</p><p>--Landowners were forced by eminent domain to sell their land on the false promise that they could buy it back after the war.</p><p>--And toxic waste was recklessly dumped on the NOP over the years. To this day, another war is being waged on poisons that lurk in the wells, streams, air and soil around Mead, foiling all efforts to find an effective solution. So far, we are losing this war.</p><p>--Also, perhaps emulating the bomber plant’s poor examples of waste disposal, bad actors in recent years followed the government’s muddy footsteps. They dumped poisonous herbicide filth on that same once-arable soil around Mead, in pursuit of quick profits from dirty-fuel ethanol.</p><p>* * *</p><p>Today, while reviewing my recollections, I realize that one of my own personal bomber plant complaints has been festering for some 78 years, so I suppose it’s time to follow the example of forgive and forget.</p><p>OK, Uncle Sam, I forgive you for burning my Daddy.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-the-bomber-plant</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:162496878</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 06 May 2025 10:38:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/162496878/3a45a3a1c622eff1d5a6c34238a90120.mp3" length="11826183" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>739</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/162496878/50593bec4ddd71c434b29487eb55ac07.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: I Didn't Realize You Were In Here]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>My wife arranged an early check-in time at our New Orleans Air BnB, we wanted to get rid of our bags before wandering through the city. An Uber abandoned us at our residence for the next several nights, Paige had found a signature New Orleans shotgun house so we could get the signature New Orleans experience. We carefully followed the check-in instructions, decided we were in the right place, and knocked on the front door.</p><p>No answer.</p><p>Ok, give it a few minutes.</p><p>Still no answer.</p><p>Try knocking again? Ok here it goes... still nothing.</p><p><em>Can you double check to make sure this is the right place? Ok, can I see? Yeah, looks right. Did he respond when we said we were coming early? What exactly did he say? Alright, that seems pretty clear. Uhhh… I mean I don't know what to do... can we call him? Oh wait I think someone's coming.</em></p><p>Someone did eventually come. He wasn't wearing a bathrobe, but in my mind as I recall this morning, I picture him in a bathrobe. He had clearly just woken up, and despite the fact that our Air BnB host was</p><p>a solid 20 minutes late for our pre-arranged check-in time, he just played it off as though everything was going according to plan. He told us to leave our luggage by the door. I guess he needed some extra time to get our room ready. That’s fine, waiting a little longer is a small price to pay to ensure that our experience goes smoothly.</p><p>We came back later for our official introduction to our living quarters. There were a few details our host wanted to make sure we didn’t forget.</p><p><em>“You may see my girlfriend hanging out on the couch, she’s over here a lot.”</em></p><p>Ok, the guy is in a committed relationship. That’s kind of nice.</p><p><em>“Here’s the thermostat, feel free to adjust it but there isn’t any heating, most houses in New Orleans don’t have that. Just cooling.”</em></p><p>Got it. Paige had read that on the Air BnB listing. It seemed standard across the options we were comparing. Not a big deal.</p><p><em>“I sometimes smoke medical marijuana in the house, does that bother you?”</em></p><p>Well, I suppose if it's MEDICAL marijuana. I mean what kind of monsters would we be to deprive a sick man of his MEDICINE? I'm not an animal after all.</p><p>The orientation was over, we went out for dinner.</p><p>After the appropriate number of selfies and gift shops, we decided to turn in after supper to get a good night's sleep ahead of another full day of adventures. We had lights out around 10:30pm, which really isn't too different from a normal evening at the Beaty household back in Omaha.</p><p>But this wasn’t a normal evening, and we weren’t in Omaha.</p><p>Our room was on the second floor at the top of some rickety wooden stairs. It was impossible to be discrete while scaling these steps and turning the corner to where we would be sleeping. Some sadist had also inconveniently placed the light switch on the outside of the room.</p><p>As we were just entering our REM cycles, my fading out of consciousness was knocked loose by the sound of someone starting the expedition up the creaky old stairs.</p><p>FLASH.</p><p>The lights turned on. My wife and I struggled to orient ourselves until my dilated pupils adjusted just enough to see the silhouette of our host standing in the doorway holding a bed comforter.</p><p>He wasn't wearing a bathrobe, but in my mind, I imagine him still in a bathrobe.</p><p><em>“Oh! I didn't realize you were in here. I just finished up washing your bedspread.”</em></p><p>I checked the clock. It was 11:00pm.</p><p>•••</p><p>Night 2.</p><p>It was unseasonably cold in New Orleans. It normally wouldn't have been a big deal, but these old shotgun houses (or at least one old shotgun house in particular) are drafty as hell. You could feel the inhale and exhale of the room as if you were sleeping inside a pair of lungs. Once we had been provided with all our bedsheets, the first night was tolerable, but things cooled off considerably on day 2.</p><p>I knew there was no furnace. But I was desperate for answers when I woke up in the middle of the night shivering like Leonardo DiCaprio fighting for room on a floating door next to the shitty rich girl he had just hooked up with. I covered myself in every spare article of clothing that I felt comfortable having absorb my nighttime body odor. Still not good enough. I rappelled down the creaky old stairs to the location of the thermostat. I knew this was a waste of time, but I felt like I needed to at least try. The thermostat still had buttons after all, which I relentlessly pounded with the ferocity one reserves for playing Mortal Kombat on Sega Genesis. Back up the stairs to check on the furnace that— indeed— does not exist.</p><p>I started searching for another solution. There was an unoccupied room next to ours, which I assumed had to be full of extra blankets. As it turns out, this wasn’t a second bedroom. Random s**t was packed into every nook and cranny of the 300 square feet. Broken gym equipment, U-Haul boxes, and redundant kitchen appliances blocked my path as I searched for anything resembling a blanket. I suspected our Air BnB host had murdered his upstairs roommate and moved all his belongings into this space so he could make some extra rental cash.</p><p>I was beginning to wonder how many extra towels the bathroom had but then found, <em>not-a-blanket</em>, but something <em>blanket-like.</em> It wasn’t my first choice, but I was reminded of a fresco in the Nebraska State Capitol building that depicted a scene from a blizzard where settlers slit open the stomachs of their dead livestock and crawled inside for warmth. It could be worse.</p><p>Not satisfied with my smallpox blanket, Paige sent our host a message. Predictably, he was still up. Within minutes we heard the familiar creak of the stairs, he turned on the light, opened the door, and lugged in a space heater that resembled a satellite dish with a heat bulb inside. It even made this crazy laser beam sound as it warmed up. It was the kind of thing with warning stickers plastered all over the sides, telling you not to fall asleep using it because you may inadvertently light yourself on fire. We went to bed anyways.</p><p>I woke up an hour later sweating through the storage room blanket.</p><p>•••</p><p>Night 3.</p><p>It was yet another full day. We had fed a raccoon some marshmallows. Held a baby alligator. Saw the future burial site of Nicolas Cage (who knew he was such a planner). And while Paige met her idol that runs a baking blog , I got yelled at by some people sitting on their porch watching chickens walk around their front yard. We had hit all the New Orleans attractions.</p><p>We went to bed content with our vacation and satisfied with the totality of our experience in the Big Easy.</p><p>For the most part.</p><p>Dead asleep. Middle of the night.</p><p>FLASH.</p><p>AGAIN.</p><p>A young, confused women walked casually into our room. Made eye contact and yelled:</p><p><em>“Oh, S**T!”</em></p><p>She darted out of the room, turned off the lights, and ran back down the stairs. Paige and I—both semi-conscious— looked at each other in the most confused state we’ve been in during a very confusing stay.</p><p>I took the opportunity to pee, made sure the heat lamp hadn’t incinerated anything, and laid back to sleep under the mover’s blanket that doubled as my bed comforter.</p><p>Paige’s phone lit up. She had a message from our host.</p><p><em>“It happened again! I can't believe it! I'm so sorry! She was looking for my bedroom and thought it was upstairs.”</em></p><p>So…</p><p>There's a lot to digest here.</p><p>To summarize: our Air BnB host <em>that we were paying to let us stay at his place</em> invited a girl back while we were staying there. The same host that told us he had a girlfriend. A girlfriend we may see laying around on the couch from time to time. I think it’s safe to say she would know her boyfriend's bedroom is <em>not</em> at the top of the stairs.</p><p>But infidelity aside, HE BROUGHT A GIRL BACK TO HAVE SEX WITH HER WHILE WE WERE PAYING TO STAY AT HIS HOUSE.</p><p>Despite being freezing and sleep deprived, none of these details were lost on me in the middle of the night.</p><p>The next morning, Paige and I had a lot to catch up on.</p><p><em>“Well after that awkward encounter do you think he still got lucky last night?”</em></p><p><em>“I know for a fact that he did.”</em></p><p><em>“What do you mean?”</em></p><p><em>“You probably couldn't tell. You sleep with earplugs.”</em></p><p><em>“Ohhh…”</em></p><p>After much debate we decided not to leave him an Air BnB review.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-i-didnt-realize</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:161189368</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 22 Apr 2025 10:51:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/161189368/cba503c3cf75a4db11edd3ba0c6f204e.mp3" length="11183429" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>559</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/161189368/7ee12b60b3e1764e9c06450fa891dddc.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: A Corner To Pee In ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Coperstone </em></strong></p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive the first chapter of Chris’s book about being a loser in high school for free!</p></p><p></p><p><strong>A Corner to Pee In</strong></p><p>I am delighted to read in the Wahoo Newspaper that the Omaha Steel Castings Co. is planning to preserve the old circular cement corncrib at the entrance of its new factory at the northeast part of town.</p><p>OSC President Phil Teggart has told Wahoo folks the structure would remain standing as a talking point for people who enter the plant. He called it a piece of Wahoo history.</p><p>Historical? Sure it is, to a lot of people. It's got to be nearly a hundred years old.</p><p>But to me, it's more than an old landmark. Whenever I drive past it today, I'm flooded by boyhood memories of lazy summer afternoons, of swimming pool fun under a scorching sun, and family togetherness while growing up in Wahoo.</p><p>* * *</p><p>It's the middle of summer in maybe 1948. I'm a skinny boy about nine years old. My older sister, Rochelle - she'd be 11 - and l are trudging down the gritty, sun-baked gravel road that is now an extension of 12 Street. My younger sister, Janie, may or may not be with us today. She's only seven.</p><p>We're going swimming at the Wanahoo Park/Dance Island's huge sand­ bottomed concrete pool maybe about a mile from our house on Ninth Street near Broadway. We're carrying our swimming suits, mine wrapped in a chlorine- and mold­ scented bath towel. We swim almost every summer day, and I don't take the time to hang my odorous gear on the clothesline to dry. The municipal pool hasn't been built yet, and the polio epidemic panic hasn't yet forced the Wanahoo pool to shut down.</p><p>We step off the pavement at the highway corner where the Skelly gas station stands, and hit the gravel road. Not many people know it now, or even at that time, but that road used to be the gravel highway out of town to Omaha.</p><p>To our right, on the south side, stands the sturdy, metal-roofed corncrib, a familiar, solid structure that keeps us kids within its view for about a half­ mile, almost to the Sand Creek bridge. We turn left at the entrance to Dance Island. The bath house is another couple of hundred yards farther.</p><p>We frolic all day in the huge pool. Too soon, the day's over and we're dead tired, but we still have to walk home.</p><p>Weary and sapped by the hot sun, we again reach our old friend, the sentinel corncrib, which means we are getting closer to home.</p><p>Refreshments await us just across the road from the corncrib at the Skelly gas station. The grumpy old man there never welcomed us kids, and he scowls at us. But he likes our nickels well enough, and allows us to fish for bottles of Nesbitt orange pop in the ice-water cooler. The pop is great, and we are refreshed for the final leg home.</p><p>We will<strong> </strong>do it all over again tomorrow, and almost every day after that until summer vacation is over.</p><p>* * *</p><p>Today, the corncrib still stands, as does what's left of the Skelly station, which is undergoing a slow, well-earned renovation. But the grumpy old man at the station is gone, along with my childhood. But memories remain, freshened each time I see the gas station and corncrib.</p><p>When Mr. Teggart's factory started going up and the bulldozers were leveling everything, naturally I became concerned. The corncrib was almost hidden by overgrown trees by then, and it appeared to be in the way of progress. I drove out to take photos, anticipating its disappearance.</p><p>Memories came flooding back as I walked toward the corncrib with my camera. One of the sharpest memories was of my father.</p><p>* * *</p><p>My dad, Hank Copperstone, who with my mom, Irma, owned the Wigwam Cafe, had an old, bad joke that he always told when we drove past the corncrib. It was to give us kids numerous fits of giggles.</p><p>"That's where a man ran himself to death," Daddy would say, pointing at the circular crib. Someone would bite: "Why's that?"</p><p><em>"He was looking for a corner to pee in!" </em>Dad fairly shouts, and we all howl with laughter. "Oh, Daddy, that's naughty," we'd chide him, but we couldn't stop giggling.</p><p>After the first couple of times he told it, someone in the car - not always Dad- would drag out the joke when we passed the corncrib on our way out of town or to Dance Island.</p><p>To this day, I always get a groan, if not a smile, when I repeat that old story. "My dad says that's where a man ran himself to death," I always say, pointing to the corncrib. I think my friends get tired of it, but I won't let a groan stop me. The telling of it lets me love my dad and my family all over again.</p><p>As<strong> </strong>I circled the corncrib snapping photos (no, I didn't run myself to death), I finally reached the east end.</p><p>Tucked into the underbrush against the corncrib was a portable toilet for the construction crew to use.</p><p>As I lined up the outhouse through the camera viewfinder, I suddenly realized the irony, and burst out laughing. I couldn't help it.</p><p>Dad would have loved it. At last, there was a corner to pee in !</p><p></p><p>Bless you, Mr. Teggart, for making room at your factory for the corncrib of my memories, and I join others in welcoming you to your new community. May the Wahoo of your present be as pleasant as the Wahoo of my past.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-a-corner-to</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:160947829</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 15 Apr 2025 10:37:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/160947829/ab221644b03300dcd929b083fe36fb62.mp3" length="10046096" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>502</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/160947829/977008a8c64ad3c207d0d414cfbeb98d.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Dead Animals ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p><strong><em>Empty Bird Nest Grief</em></strong></p><p>It’s taking the orphaned baby robins such a long time to die…</p><p>It’s breaking my heart, and I feel helpless, but I don’t know how to save them.</p><p>They seemed doomed to die, and to my horror and remorse, I’m partly, if not completely, to blame for their peril.</p><p>In a grim ritual, I check the nest every couple of hours, hoping to see the mother robin feeding and warming her babies. She hasn’t returned, though, and the babies are slipping away, weaker and hardly moving.</p><p>Yesterday afternoon, soon after I discovered the nest and looked in, they mistook my shadow for their parent, straining their heads upward, with gaping beaks, cheeping frantically for food.</p><p>I kept vigil at my window, far from the nest so I wouldn’t cruelly get the babies’ parental expectations up, and hoping to see the mother giving nourishment. As night fell, my panic increased. But the babies spent the night alone, naked to the elements and hungry.</p><p>Next morning I looked out the window. My heart sank. No mother yet.</p><p>They were still huddled together, terribly weak and barely moving. One of them feebly opened its beak, but just for a second or two, then sagged back down.</p><p>The fledglings are in a down-lined nest of soft grasses perched atop some lawn tools under the eaves of my garage, about eye-level. It was an odd place for a nest, but it was camouflaged and just fine, until I blundered in.</p><p>I was poking around the tools hanging on the garage wall. I was making a bit of a ruckus and was startled to come across the nest, almost right before my eyes. I didn’t realize until later that a robin, probably a parent, was squawking at me from a nearby rooftop.</p><p>I didn’t touch the nest, but it was too late. The damage was done, and the parents undoubtedly abandoned this nest to build a new, safer one, as mandated by their stern mistress, Mother Nature.</p><p>My death vigil continued, as I wracked my brain to think what I should do. Maybe the humane thing to do is to end their misery (and mine) myself. But I can’t. I just can’t.</p><p>I don’t know the first thing about feeding baby birds, and what if my interference scares away the parents? Would I simply be prolonging their deaths?</p><p>It had been about 22 hours since I blundered into their lives and cut off their food supply. All I can do now is watch.</p><p>It was cool and drizzling outside. The starving babies were sheltered under the eaves, so at least they could stay dry.</p><p>Until they die.</p><p>* * *</p><p><strong><em>Epilogue</em></strong></p><p><strong><em>I’m sorry to say that I had lost track of this sorrowful saga when I was away for a couple of days.</em></strong></p><p><strong><em>When I caught up, the nest was empty. There were some loose down and feathers on the ground beneath, and the mangled remains of only one of the babies.</em></strong></p><p><strong><em>There was no way to tell exactly how the babies met their fate, outside of the certainty that a cat or other predator did the dirty deed at the end.</em></strong></p><p><strong><em>I did feel an uneasy relief that I wasn’t proud of, though, to be shed of the heart-wrenching ordeal. I believe execution by cat would have been the quicker death.</em></strong></p><p><strong><em>But I’m left with a nagging uncertainty. Did I do the right thing? Should I have fed them? Should I have given them more shelter? Put them out of their misery?</em></strong></p><p><strong><em>I’ll never know now, will I?</em></strong></p><p></p><p><strong>The Cute Little Rodents and How They Stunk</strong></p><p>I actually like the idea of mice and a lot of other rodents. They’re cute -- Mickey Mouse cute, sometimes.</p><p>I love their ears, their bright, beady eyes, their twitching little noses and whiskers.</p><p>When I was about 8 years old, I wanted a hamster pet. Bob Smith, my friend Raymond’s older brother, was breeding and selling them, along with a veritable zoo-full of other beasts and fowl creatures over the years.</p><p>If I remember right, he wanted fifty cents apiece, so I bought a couple (It might have been a dollar-fifty per). We scrounged up a cage and exercise wheel and set the hamsters to work entertaining us kids.</p><p>Only a day or so later, we thought it would be fun to take them out of the cage to race them along the bedroom wall baseboard.</p><p>The hamsters, being basically wild and yearning to be free, took off like rodents out of hell along the baseboards. Like a flash, they immediately ducked into a previously unnoticed mouse hole and were never seen again.</p><p>We didn’t even have them long enough to give them names. And we never knew who won the Wahoo 500-Inch Hamster Race.</p><p>* * *</p><p>As I said, I am fond of hamsters and other rodents, including squirrels, chipmunks, beavers, prairie dogs, porcupines, groundhogs and even rats.</p><p>(When he was a kid, my cousin in California, Jack Husebo, persisted in loving the heck out of a pet white rat, even though his mother, my Aunt Betty, was terrified of the species.)</p><p>And one time I was rummaging around an old tree stump and uncovered a nest with a mother mouse and four babies clinging to her teats. That presented a quandary. Should I exterminate the pests, babies and all?</p><p>As a boy I had spent many summers at my aunt and uncle Clara and Jerry Bartusek’s farm near Ceresco, so I recognized a farmer’s corn-crib enemy when I saw one.</p><p>But I didn’t have the blood-lust a farmer might have to destroy a hated foe, so I set about rescuing mama mouse and her babies, who remained attached to the mother even as she scurried away. I scooped the whole family up in a paper cup and moved them safely away.</p><p>But in Wahoo one winter a couple of years ago, a mouse incident really tested my feelings about rodents when a family of field mice decided to come in from the cold and set up housekeeping in my newly-purchased home.</p><p>A creature-killing frost was looming, and I was really conflicted about my uninvited squatters.</p><p>I decided to cohabit with my little intruders. After all, how much can they eat? (Answer: Everything they can get their cute, thieving little paws on).</p><p>If I stayed very quiet at night, watching television, a mouse would venture out to forage for crumbs on the carpet, or I’d catch a quick glimpse of it scurrying about. Kind of entertaining, actually.</p><p>That kept on for a few days, and I was getting used to my new roommates. Maybe this could work out after all.</p><p>Unfortunately, the first little guys began to sublet their new boardinghouse to numerous others of their kind.</p><p>One day I moved the toaster, revealing a mess of damp, chewed paper nesting, sprinkled generously with the cutest turdlets and accompanying dribbles, along with the darlingest stink.</p><p>I finally had to face the fact that I no longer had a friendly real estate arrangement with a rodent -- I had an infestation.</p><p>The rear of the refrigerator top yielded a similar cache of excrement, and then I knew the mouses’ lease was up. I couldn’t continue to patrol the house carrying a bucket of soapy water, Pine-Sol and bleach, looking for nests.</p><p>So I served an eviction notice in the form of some ingenious d-Con traps, which did the job neatly and odorlessly.</p><p>I feel badly about it to this day, but a landlord’s gotta do what a landlord’s gotta do.</p><p>To my chagrin, a house-wide cleanup crew after the eviction revealed that the mice had headquartered in a large, damp nest in the bowels of the sofa I always lounged in and sometimes slept on. I hired Fonzi, a local handyman, to bust up the now-ruined sofa and haul it away.</p><p>I know d-Con is probably cruel, as it causes internal hemorrhaging and a long, drawn-out death for pests, but it saves me from seeing the mangled, rotting mouse carcasses and evidence of the death throes. The dCon is also odorless and relatively safe for pets and babies.</p><p>However, I didn’t fully escape the unpleasant aspects of the extermination task, as I had hoped.</p><p>One day about a year later, to my lip-curling horror I discovered a tightly rolled ad magazines behind the living room sofa.</p><p>I unfolded the newsprint pages to reveal the dried-out, mummified but odorless corpse of one of my former tenants. It had crawled in there to die, just as the d-Con ads promised they would.</p><p>The dreaded chore is behind me now. Each autumn I take the coward’s way out with ample d-Con applications to avoid direct mouse-to-me contact. No more seasonal mouse-nest stink, either.</p><p>But I have a tiny twinge of remorse for the many mousie deaths I am responsible for. I have just enough guilt to imagine being haunted by their Disney cartoon-image ghosts.</p><p>When I die and, with luck, go to heaven, I can only hope that the humans’ paradise is far away from mouse heaven.</p><p>I don’t want to be revenged by the ghosts of my former rodent roommates who undoubtedly carry a hefty d-Con grudge against their evil, murderous former landlord.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-dead-animals</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:159835352</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 01 Apr 2025 11:57:34 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/159835352/d6080b40cead28e9593f4469ce2e86ff.mp3" length="12505784" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>782</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/159835352/94b2ad61ba3e8092a651c1f5befa4911.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Scoot Over, Here Comes Bobby!]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p>Having caught the bi-wheeled fever from Dad’s hill-climber Harley adventures, and as I stumbled into puberty, I chafed to dip my toe into solo motorized cycling.</p><p>I got my chance when word got around in Wahoo that Lee Houfek was selling his Cushman scooter. I wanted it very badly. To my surprise, Dad bought it for me. I was only 13.</p><p></p><p>I’m sure he had a tough time winning Mom over to the scooter idea. But after all, he understood a young boy’s craving for motorized propulsion</p><p>.</p><p>And he, himself, had caught the fever during much of his early married life. Before he finally got the hill-climber, Dad was always joking to us kids about use buying him a motorcycle. He’d tease us, asking how we are coming along with a (nonexistent) “Buy Daddy a motorcycle” piggybank.</p><p>If he saw us with any coins, or if we talked about buying something else, he would say, “Oh, boy! Are you going to buy Daddy a motorcycle now?”</p><p>I took him seriously.</p><p>One spring day he saw me with a quarter in my hand. I was going to buy one of those balsa-wood glider airplanes at Kolterman’s dime store.</p><p>I knew what Daddy was going to say. He looked longingly at my quarter, and that made me very sad, because I had repeatedly failed to buy him a motorcycle. I just didn’t want to disappoint him yet again.</p><p>I looked up shyly to meet his eyes, then held up the coin in my open palm and offered in a thin voice: “Here, Daddy.”</p><p>He just stood there for the longest time. I guess I had called his bluff.</p><p>“Oh, <em>Bobby</em>, I was just <em>kidding</em>,” he said, kneeling and reaching with both hands to clasp my shoulders and pull me closer to him in a warm hug.</p><p>I don’t remember if he ever again asked me to buy him a motorcycle.</p><p>* * *</p><p>Besides my adventures on Dad’s hill-climber Harley, and his subsequent H-D hog, and my Cushman scooter, I came close to adding a Cushman Eagle.</p><p>The Eagle resembled a small-wheeled motorcycle (thus its allure). A guy would straddle it motorcycle-style instead of stepping through it. The Cushman factory in Lincoln stopped production in 1965.</p><p>My friend Ray Smith had one for sale.</p><p>This one was well-used but very attractive. New ones’ engines displaced 349cc, generating 8 horsepower, and could hit 52 mph.</p><p>But Ray’s Eagle’s engine was bored out and otherwise enriched for more power. And I was determined to exercise that power and took it for a spin..</p><p>I rode the beast northwest of town to Luther College Hill, a gravel incline that was almost as locally famous as Bodley’s Hill. (I heard that in the 1920s, bragging rights belonged to the driver of the car that could make it to the top of Bodley’s in high gear.)</p><p>Unhelmeted, I paused atop the hill overlooking the Luther College campus, then gunned the gutsy engine to begin the plummet down the freshly graveled road.</p><p>Yep, the speed was there, all right. Maybe <em>too much</em> speed? I began to have full-speed second thoughts. I eased up on the hand throttle, and my toe almost unconsciously took the opportunity to tap the brake (I can’t remember if the Eagle had a hand brake).</p><p>But it was too late.</p><p>Even with the wind whistling past my ears, I could hear the sickening metallic sound of the drive chain snapping loose, accompanied by a terrible fishtailing and complete loss of control because of the locked rear wheel.</p><p>The only way I could go now was down. And down I went, pancaking the machine, as gravity dictated.</p><p>I must have been thrown free and avoided being ground up under the skidding, heavy bike frame and engine.</p><p>I don’t know how long I lay sprawled flat and hurting in the middle of the road. I looked up the hill and spotted a cloud of dust coming right at me. A rattling, vintage 1920s sedan shuddered to a skidding stop right in front of me.</p><p>The driver immediately jumped out and began tongue-blistering me for blocking his road. I’m sure he wouldn’t have stopped at all if he could have gotten past the accident scene.</p><p>I didn’t try to argue with him -- I was too busy bleeding.</p><p>I recovered my senses and, limping a little and hurting all over, I skidded and wrestled the machine off the road. The broken chain had wrapped around the axle and locked the rear wheel tight.</p><p>My new friend didn’t even offer to help me, nor did he ask after my health, but continued to grouse about being delayed.</p><p>The topic of his rant concerned the value, if any, in the continuation of my existence here on earth. (He was against it).</p><p>I recognized his angry red face as that of a local farmer, Chauncey Beadle, whose son, George Beadle, was a Nobel Prize recipient and, later, one of Wahoo’s Five Famous Sons.</p><p>(That Nobel Prize, for plant genetics, was awarded in 1958, the same year Chauncey and I met on Luther College Hill.)</p><p>I don’t remember how I got the wounded machine back to Ray Smith, or how I explained its sorry state. I never did offer to buy it.</p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-scoot-over-here</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:158870862</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 25 Mar 2025 10:38:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/158870862/a27a34de77c99a3382d5771e979b46c5.mp3" length="9796365" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>490</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/158870862/2e777ea6b6f775c431b6691160458af3.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: My World on Two Wheels]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p>Some of my fondest Wahoo childhood recollections are cemented into my memory by three motorized two-wheeled vehicles.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe to read the first chapter of the book Chris is writing about being a loser in high school. </p></p><p>They include a racing motorcycle, a docile motor scooter and, later in my adult life, a highway-hogging 750-cc Japanese cruiser.</p><p>Like probably every boy in the world who ever pushed a toy truck around the sand pile, I almost painfully ached to have an actual internal-combustion engine vehicle of my own, preferably two-wheeled.</p><p>My cycle odyssey began when I was about 10, as a passenger on my dad’s 1940s vintage Harley-Davidson hill-climber. (I think they imported that model from Europe, but it carried the Hog’s badge).</p><p>Often on a summer Sunday, Dad would plop me astride the rear fender on a hard leather pad, and we’d head north of Wahoo to the motorcycle hill-climbing venue outside Morse Bluff.</p><p>The climbs were fun to watch.</p><p>The racers competed against the clock, gutting their way up an impossibly-steep trail, clinging to their stripped-down, howling and growling machines -- music to our ears.</p><p>The gutsy cyclists would furiously grind dirt and gravel, dodging gullies, loose soil, rocks and other obstacles, doing their damndest to stay aboard and in competition.</p><p>They had kill-switches fastened to their bodies that would shut off the engines if (more likely “when”) they were thrown from their machines.</p><p>Those days, the hill-climber bikes were recognized by a bread-loaf sized leather cushion on the rear fenders (you remember that was my passenger seat on our way to the race). The racer would scoot back and sit on that pad for increased weight-distributing traction to the powered rear wheel.</p><p>As welcome as that pad was for that purpose, I’m here to tell you I didn’t welcome it all that much. My shaken kidneys hurt like hell as we bounced along the washboard gravel roads, dad on his cushioned and sprung leather saddle, and me clinging grimly to his waist, often bouncing high enough to show light under my butt.</p><p></p><p>Most of the bigger bikes of that era had long, wide saddles to accommodate both driver and passenger, but ours was a stripped-down hill-climber with an abbreviated driver’s seat. Dad hated to see me in pain, and would stop often to rest my kidneys. I was too old to cry, but I sure wanted to.</p><p>They didn’t make motorcycle kidney belts for kids, though, and I learned why they called them “hard-tail” Harleys. My tail was definitely harder by the time we got home.</p><p>* * *</p><p>It was that hill-climber bike that introduced both Dad and me to the joys of motorized, two-wheeled propulsion.</p><p>After puttin’ around Wahoo in that smaller bike for a few years, Dad got a chance to move up to the big boy toys.</p><p>His nephew, Jerry Bartusek Jr., had recently purchased a beautiful, muscular (1000cc), full-sized Harley-Davidson. Not long afterwards, while getting used to the bike, he lost control on pavement gravel and laid the bike down, suffering painful road rash and vowing never to climb back on. Junior quickly sold the bike to Dad.</p><p>Dad’s new ride was fondly nicknamed in the industry a “knucklehead” because its engine’s rocker-box ends resembled a clenched fist.</p><p>It was the company’s first overhead valve engine, boasting a satisfying 37 horsepower. It was produced from 1936 to 1947 and marked the beginning of a Harley history of muscular motorcycling.</p><p>Dad rode the hell out of that Harley, in all weather, even winter. He loved that bike. I never did get to solo in it, though. I was a skinny little runt as a kid, and it was too much bike to handle.</p><p><strong>And anyway, when I was 13 I had my own motorized wheels – a Cushman scooter, which will be the topic of the next chapter of this Uncle Bob’s </strong><strong><em>Growing Up Wigwam</em></strong><strong> blog.</strong></p><p>* * *</p><p>When Dad died of heart failure in 1968, I came back to Wahoo from California for the funeral. The Harley was still under a tarp in the alley behind the Wigwam Café.</p><p>Many of us in the family believe the bike may have played at least a part in Dad’s decline in health.</p><p>One day, he had untypically jackknifed the bike, falling hard to the bricks at the Wahoo City Hall intersection.</p><p>Toward the end, after the spill, he wasn’t very much of the same Harley Hank anymore, in all aspects of his daily life. I wasn’t around in Wahoo, and I don’t know if he ever rode the machine after the spill.</p><p>To my disappointment, I was in no position to own it, ride it or fix it since I lived at a trailer park in Monrovia, California, where I had just began my first job at a daily newspaper</p><p>.</p><p>Mom eventually gave the motorcycle to Dale Nichelson, a gem of a neighbor who always kept Dad’s Harley mechanically ticking, for free.</p><p>Dad was handy around the house (when I was 12, I helped him rebuilt a new bathroom with his own hands.) But I never saw him take a gasoline engine apart.</p><p>So Dale, true to his sterling character, sold the bike it to some brothers from Omaha, and promptly gave every cent of it back to Mom.</p><p>From there, history details are very sketchy, but it was said that the bike was sold again to someone who restored it ground up.<em> </em>I don’t know where that knucklehead beauty is now. It is undoubtedly being on proud display somewhere even today. I hope so.</p><p>I hated to miss the chance to own one of Dad’s bikes, because the bike was in pretty good condition. More importantly, it held a flood of pleasant boyhood memories.</p><p>Even today, whenever my bumped tailbone feels a twinge, I am subconsciously swept back to the summers of the 1950s, and I am holding on for dear life on the bumpy road to Morse Bluff.</p><p><strong><em>NEXT: Free at last! On the road at age 13, piloting a brilliant red dream machine of a Cushman scooter.</em></strong></p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-my-world-on</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:158869491</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 18 Mar 2025 10:30:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/158869491/c6078d718c7b93944cfdd91efd472342.mp3" length="11532463" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>577</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/158869491/936b186372eef2bd3911c66ca4ac2d23.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Bank Clock's Time Is Up ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p></p><p><strong>You Can’t Bank On a Tree</strong></p><p><em>In July of 2019 people at the Wahoo State Bank, next door to the Wigwam, planted a tree out front. The city ordered it removed, sparking a minor squabble amongst Wahoovians. I put in my two cents:</em></p><p>* * *</p><p>July 13, 2019</p><p>A tree grows in Wahoo.</p><p>Or does it?</p><p>A newly planted young sapling juts out bravely from its nursery spot in the “bump-out” curb in front of the sleek new Wahoo State Bank building.</p><p>It is straining to put down roots, as all the while certain people aren’t sure the baby tree should even dare to exist.</p><p>To the surprise of many, probably including the people who planted it, this fragile sprig has triggered a mini-storm of controversy.</p><p>Solid arguments have arisen at a City Council meeting and around town, both pro and con, and they all carry weight.</p><p>The City Council has ordered further study of the matter, guaranteeing a fair hearing for both sides, and there should be little worry that a reasoned decision will not result.</p><p>But whether the young tree stays or is uprooted, there are two facts that should be kept in mind for future meditation:</p><p>1- That trees and their silky leaves absorb carbon dioxide, a main contributor to climate change, and release oxygen, which we are glad to inhale.</p><p>And,</p><p>2- That the bank, without asking taxpayers for a dime, planted the tree in good faith, no doubt with the beauty and benefit of the downtown community in mind.</p><p>Good deeds should not go unrewarded.</p><p><em>* * *</em></p><p><em>Unfortunately, my two cents didn’t buy the sapling a reprieve, and it was yanked out. The controversy was a pleasant give-and-take, though, and the bank’s CEO wrote me a nice thank-you note for taking his side. I don’t know what happened to the sapling, but I hope it was adopted by a kind tree-hugger</em>.</p><p></p><p><strong>Bank Clock’s Time Was Up</strong></p><p>As a small boy, I had a powerful attachment to a huge, impressive time machine.</p><p>When this wonderful machine called to me, I fled my favorite Tonka trucks, my Lionel train, my toy bulldozer – even my trusty bike, and ran to the corner of Fifth and Linden streets in downtown Wahoo.</p><p>For some reason, I considered that my clock worship was considered consummated if I stood directly under that giant when it clangorously broadcast its Westminster-chimed message to all of downtown.</p><p>Because this machine did, indeed, call to me. Loudly. Often. Regularly. You could set your watch by its calls. And a whole lot of people did exactly that.</p><p>My time machine was the huge, four-faced chime clock that jutted proudly and heavily from the south-east corner of the Wahoo State Bank.</p><p>You see, the bank is two doors east of the Wigwam Café, where I spent a good part of the days and evenings. My parents, Hank and Irma, had owned and operated the place since 1949 and I was 10 years old.</p><p>My pilgrimage successful, I could return to my more conventional playthings.</p><p>* * *</p><p>The old clock’s impressive size and its deep, resonant tones remain forever in my memory.</p><p>I can even sing the notes in tune with the famous chime sequence. (Nobody ever has, nor probably ever will, desire to hear me sing those notes, but they are there, stuck in my brain, just in case).</p><p>I think the clock struck the hours, quarter-hours, half-hours and 3/4 hours. To be frank, I also remember that my mother, Irma, among other merchants and employees who had to listen to the cacophony, complained about the continuous parade of gongs.</p><p>Actually, such public clocks came into use at the turn of the century, when relatively few could afford the luxury of a timepiece.</p><p>McClintock-Loomis Co. of Minneapolis made these bank clocks for only nine years, from 1908 to 1917, so that would probably help date the age of my massive musical friend.</p><p>When the venerable old clock was replaced by the digital box, I, for one, was happy to always know the temps, and I marveled at the state of modern progress that brought them to me.</p><p>The original clock had four faces, visible from all directions. If I remember correctly -- and I don’t know if it was even mechanically possible -- the four dials didn’t always keep the same, identical minute.</p><p>Today’s clock pre-dates the founding of the Wahoo State Bank itself. A photograph from the Historical Society Museum’s Anderson-Haney Collection in Wahoo shows the building’s name, chiseled in stone, as the Saunders County National Bank, its corner graced by the imposing, four-faced clock I knew and loved all those years later..</p><p>(In fact, one of my now-out-of-state relatives recently toured her hometown and just assumed that the present clock <em>was</em> the old one).</p><p>* * *</p><p>For a more complete overview of the clocks’ histories, I refer to excerpts from an excellent item in the July 1, 2020 issue of the Wahoo Newspaper:</p><p><strong>By Lisa Brichacek</strong></p><p><em>WAHOO – A piece of history anew now hangs above the corner of Fifth and Linden streets in Wahoo.</em></p><p><em>A new clock arrived at the corner where construction is wrapping up on the new Wahoo State Bank and was hoisted into place on the front of the building.</em></p><p><em>Wahoo State Bank President </em>[now CEO]<em> Greg Hohl said it was a big day, given the clock is one of the elements that speaks to the long-history of the bank.</em></p><p><em>The clock is a replica of one that once hung on the corner of the old bank building.</em></p><p><strong>[Editor’s note: The replica clock has three dials, or faces, not four, like the original].</strong></p><p><em>Hohl said that first clock was taken down in 1966, but many people in town still remember it. The reproduction company, Electric Time Company Inc., in Massachusetts knew it well too.</em></p><p><em>“Once I showed her a picture, she said it was a McClintock model immediately,” Hohl said.</em></p><p><em>Watching it be uncrated and lifted into place Friday morning, he agreed, too, that it looked like the clock that once hung from the bank that his great-grandfather helped to open on that corner in 1932.</em></p><p><em>Hohl has heard from many people that they were glad to hear the replicated clock face was coming back.</em></p><p><em>That original clock was sold. A digital clock and sign had replaced it on the corner.</em></p><p><em>“I think sometime after they regretted they took it down, but they didn’t save things like that back in the 60s,” he added.</em></p><p>* * *</p><p>So, what happened to that clock?</p><p>If it was sold, no one seems to know to whom, nor where it is now.</p><p>The actual clock, like so many other touchstones of my youth, has evaporated into the past. But it continues to serve me with happy memories, and will do so for the rest of my lifetime.</p><p>Oh, how time flies … away.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-banks-clock</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:157915304</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 04 Mar 2025 11:07:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/157915304/81e88c14d0431e2f98cf65de7c3982ca.mp3" length="10151420" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>634</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/157915304/e2fbf5c5da2955f8dd8078f90e0b1c5a.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Downtown Vs. Highway]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p>As a 10-year-old in 1948, I watched as the downtown Wigwam Café, run by my parents, Hank and Irma Copperstone waged an energetic but fripendly rivalry with the Fairview and Day & Nite cafés on the highway.</p><p>The Wigwam’s competition was north of downtown along the combined U.S. Highways 77 and 30-Alternate route that cut through Wahoo, and included the Whirla-Whip and Dairy Queen ice cream shops, among others.</p><p>It was a vigorous but subdued rivalry. Lillie Gibson, who owned the Fairview Café on the highways (and the City Café downtown), was the queen of that highway and wore her crown graciously as a well-respected civic leader.</p><p>Now, my dad, Hank, was also a respected businessman, and was much more outgoing and gregarious than Lillie.</p><p></p><p>Every night, after locking up the Wigwam and well after almost every downtown business had gone dark, Hank would seek the bright lights of the enemy territory and invading Lillie’s bright Fairview Cafe corner for coffee and camaraderie.</p><p>The Texaco and Frontier gas stations and, before my time, the Good-Fill station) at 12th and Chestnut, along with the Day & Nite Café, combined their fluorescent beacons that attracted Hank (and often me) like the proverbial moths to a flame.</p><p>The Day & Nite was a less-gaudy dive bar and grill. I loved it because it always had a pinball machine that sucked coins out of my pocket whenever I sneaked in there. Unaccompanied children weren’t really welcomed there, but they apparently liked my nickels well enough to let me spend them there.</p><p>Back at the Fairview, Hank always got a huge kick out of the inevitable ribbing he took from Fairview’s customers when he burst through the door. “Whassa matter, Hank?” customers would shout, “Gotta come here to get a GOOD cuppa coffee?”</p><p>“Hell, yeah,” Dad would roar, then plop down on a stool at the counter and yell at the waitress, “Gimme a cup of your awful coffee!” For the next hour or so he’d give his teasing tormenters as good as he got. He loved it.</p><p>Many years later, Dad told me that Lillie Gibson had confessed that she appreciated his patronage at the Fairview, and thanked him. But she half-apologized that she just couldn’t bring herself to return the favor at his Wigwam Cafe.</p><p><strong><em>An early Day & Nite memory</em></strong><strong>:</strong> At first, Hank and Clare “Muzzy” Miller, an early partner with us in the Wigwam’s business, often went straight to the Day & Nite after “closing up” the café. Irma and Muzzy’s wife, Dorothy were puzzled at first when their husbands started getting home very late – at sunrise, sometimes.</p><p>The truth was, the guys were gambling. Not exactly regular casino type gambling, like at cards or slot machines, but shady, nonetheless.</p><p>The café owner had smuggled in a pernicious type of pinball device that was called a “one-ball machine”. I was able to get a peek at it one day (I was about 10 or 11 and not allowed to go there nights with Dad and Muzzy).</p><p>As near as I could tell, the gambler would feed dime after dime into the slot, each coin raising the odds, until the pinball would be allowed to run a winning or losing course down the machine. Probably very much like a more-modern Pachinko game). If you fail to win, your dimes were lost. Win, and the machine paid off at the high odds you paid for. Hundreds of dollars were won and lost.</p><p><strong><em>‘City Route’ Steers Traffic to Wigwam -- </em></strong>Although the highway truck stops had the advantage of heavier traffic than the city route, the federal government gave downtown (and the Wigwam) a boost by designating Fifth Street and Linden Street as City Route 30-A through downtown, with signs that routed some traffic completely away from the truck-stop trade.</p><p>That route, east a couple of blocks on Fifth Street off the highway, led traffic practically right up to the Wigwam’s front door. That was good for us, because Mom was making her famous pan-fried chicken dinners on Sundays at that time.</p><p>The City Route continued to Linden Street, then north at the bank corner eight blocks to the highway at 12th Street. A right turn took traffic straight out of town toward Omaha. By that time, traffic had completely bypassed the truck stops. (Westbound traffic was similarly guided away from the Fairview, and trucks didn’t use the city route, unless they had gotten lost.</p><p><strong><em>Arrow Sign Detours traffic -- </em></strong>To Lillie’s discomfort, a huge, lighted arrow sign pointing east on 5th toward downtown (and away from the Fairview) appeared over the highway at the courthouse corner at 5th Street.</p><p>The northernmost highway merchants, including Lillie, had opposed the arrow, since tourists were steered away from Lillie’s café and her adjacent Fairview Motor Lodge (motel).</p><p>The arrow sign was buffeted badly by trucks’ antennas and other superstructure that broke the neon tubing and, later, smashed the replacement individual light bulbs.</p><p>As a consequence, the sign often remained unlighted, and the sign had to be taken down. The neon tubes were replaced by non-electrified tiny, loosely hinged reflective metal tabs that fluttered in the wind.</p><p>Finally, though, the sign succumbed to laws preventing overhead signs on federal highways (most of Chestnut Street was federal highway 77) and was taken down permanently.</p><p>Today the original metal sign is stored indoors on city property. There had been talk of re-installing that sign along the new Route 77 Bypass near Lake Wanahoo. But the arrow had suffered much rust and damage, and today a new arrow of about the same size sits on a hill above the Bypass. It points south toward downtown Wahoo at the Chestnut Street exit. This time, there was no Lillie Gibson or other opponents to protest.</p><p>The Saunders County Museum briefly explored acquiring it several years ago, but the city was unwilling to part with it, museum curator Erin Hauser said recently.</p><p><strong><em>City Café Auction Seen as Victory: </em></strong>Although Lillie Gibson owned the downtown City Cafe, and benefited to some extent from the City Route, the Fairview was her main business, what with its attached “Fairview Motor Lodge,” precursor to the modern motel;</p><p>Eventually, Lillie sold the City Café and the contents went under the auctioneer’s hammer. Hank came away with a great deal of restaurant equipment, including a much-needed, newer commercial dishwashing machine.</p><p>That day, after the auction at sundown, Dad and I were carrying some of our winning-bid items a half-block down Fifth Street to the Wigwam. With his typical humble pride, Dad softly, quietly, confided to me that he thought we had “won” our lengthy downtown rivalry. <em>Hank and Irma: 1; Lillie: 0.</em></p><p>But it was a peaceful war, and Lillie had been a formidable, but ever-dignified and worthy foe.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-downtown-vs</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:156064893</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 11 Feb 2025 11:49:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/156064893/d57e11f98f40d42b4e8643c6b967a578.mp3" length="11636430" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>582</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/156064893/624c47ecf36001d5c780bfb5cd0ce31e.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Visit Beautiful Downtown Wahoo, Nebraska ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p>Since I was a kid playing on its rooftops 70-some years ago, Wahoo’s downtown skyline profile hasn’t changed all that much.</p><p>The buildings, with a few exceptions, remain standing stoutly in place much as I remember them. But there are lots of changes to the contents of the (mostly) brick structures.</p><p>The gradual transformation over fairly recent years may have escaped the notice of longtime residents, but their eclectic diversions have made Wahoo a more interesting place to visit, shop and live.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p>During the 1960s thru ‘80s, and before I moved back to Wahoo from California in 1990, I spent almost annual vacations here. And with each visit I noted increasing numbers of businesses empty out and post for-sale window signs</p><p><em>(I remember that, while many people at my work took vacations in exotic places, I would always fly to my home town. One time, a newly-hired reporter asked me where I was going this year. “I’m going back to Wahoo again,” I said. “Ah, yes, Oahu,” he said, “The Islands are beautiful this time of year.” I just agree, and moved on.)</em></p><p>The most numerous varieties of the latest local shops are the boutiques, with scatterings of crafts, antiques, clothing, beauty shops and the like. There’s even a shop that specializes in hand-made clothing for children.</p><p>These days we’re even a stop on an annual statewide boutique jaunt tour. That means it’s altogether possible that many out-of-towners spend more money, know more about us, and enjoy our downtown more than some of our actual residents.</p><p>One of my favorites is a real, live letterpress print shop, Persimmon Press, with an actual hand-feed printing press. I especially like that one because I was a journeyman printer/pressman in the 1960s.</p><p>What with all the redecorated specialty shops, I am amazed that the boutique bunch hasn’t snapped up the old “Clara’s Café.”</p><p>That tiny stucco, Alamo-looking, cabin-sized building squats between the Chinese restaurant and the tall wooden-front barber/beauty shop. It’s got all the bones to become what couldn’t possibly avoid being called “adorable,” or even “cute as a button.”</p><p>In recent decades it had seemed abandoned and filled with junk. It had once been a small “Wahoo Laundromat” (the sign is still displayed in the window) for a few years, before a large, new one was built several years ago a few doors west.</p><p>The stucco paint is scabby, the windows cracked and the whole building is decrepit. But in recent weeks the interior has been removed, possibly (I hope) signaling a sale or renovation.</p><p>There once had been rumors of a multi-story brick building going up on that lot, but so far nothing has come of that.</p><p>Meanwhile, Wahoo’s little shops continue to keep their posted hours. I’m sure the first-time merchants are not raking in the money, but that seems unimportant in the long run. The excitement and pride of keeping one’s own shop, and mixing with fellow entrepreneurs, make the work and worry worth it.</p><p>A steady flow of city-wide sidewalk sales and topical festivities during the kinder months keeps the camaraderie flowing and the mood light.</p><p>Last fall my sister Rochelle and other members of our family visited here from California, and I joined them as they darted from shop to shop, reminiscing about what businesses used to be in this building or that one, and marveling about the warm and friendly downtown atmosphere.</p><p>We topped off the tour with a church duck dinner in Prague that left us catching our breaths, taking in the small town magic.</p><p>Whatever the future holds for the enterprising shopkeepers, the New Downtown will continue to be very much better than the stagnant gloom of the earlier darkened windows of vacant business.</p><p><strong>* * *</strong></p><p>Here are 16 in a partial list of shops that have helped revitalize Downtown Wahoo’s once-stalled retail trade:</p><p><em>--Anthologie Soaps</em></p><p><em>--D’s Boutique</em></p><p><em>--Found & Flora</em></p><p><em>--Good Life Boutique</em></p><p><em>--Husband’s Approval</em></p><p><em>--JD Craft Shack</em></p><p><em>--Persimmon Press</em></p><p><em>--Redbone Ridge</em></p><p><em>--Rivalry Apparel</em></p><p><em>--Senior Center Thrift Store</em></p><p><em>--Sadie’s Treasure Chest</em></p><p><em>--Sassafras Galleria</em></p><p><em>--Scraps & Such Co.</em></p><p><em>--Simon Says Antiques</em></p><p><em>--Wahoo Mercantile (Antiques)</em></p><p><em>--Wahoo Senior Center Thrift Store</em></p><p>There are other one-of-a-kind shops not listed here. Take a tour around the new Downtown Wahoo and discover them for yourself.</p><p>If you haven’t visited for quite awhile, you many not recognize some of it.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-visit-beautiful</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:156027200</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 04 Feb 2025 11:45:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/156027200/4f04997553de555c58e5bd5df8992434.mp3" length="9502226" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>475</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/156027200/f3863f3accee1de1b8e8bb70ba6c39ba.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: The Chair Test ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>An episode of the animated version of the Garfield comic strip features the obese, anthropomorphic feline explaining his worldview in regards to nutrition and culinary criticism.</p><p>The cartoon cat employs what he tags as "The Chair Test." His explanation is simple: You place a sample of the food in question on the seat of a chair and then ask someone to sit on it.</p><p>Garfield hypothesizes that a food’s value can be ascertained by this simple procedure. No reaction from the test subject? The food isn’t worth consuming.</p><p></p><p>To demonstrate, he called upon his romantic-interest animated girl cat, placed a leaf of lettuce on a dining set stool and instructed her to sit down. She sat there awhile. Then shrugged. Nothing.</p><p><em>"As you can see, based upon the lack of reaction, you can tell that lettuce is not worth eating,” </em>Garfield expertly explained.</p><p>Garfield replaced the lettuce with a thickly frosted slice of cake and once again ordered her to sit. Of course, cake and frosting squished under her. Her face was distorted in disgust and anger.</p><p><em>"See? As you can tell from her reaction, the chocolate cake is a food worth eating."</em></p><p>•••</p><p>I told this cartoon fable one day at the home of a stern, judgmental pastor whose daughter I had a crush on.</p><p>To improve my standing in the pastor’s family that afternoon, I had volunteered to provide free manual labor on the building addition to the party house on his acreage. The idea was to serve the Lord and increase the pastor’s property value, and in the process eliminate the need to hire a licensed and bonded general contractor.</p><p>In return, I received treasures in heaven as well as a few slices of pizza. For dessert, the pastor’s wife served a delicious, but gooey, brownie. The sticky caramel clung to my fork and dripped onto my fingers, threatening my wrists.</p><p>While I silently struggled to stay dainty, I recalled Garfield's “worthwhile food Chair Test” so I shared the story with the guests, who probably were feeling the caramel oozing toward their own fingertips.</p><p>I sensed a shared agreement among them that the caramel goodie had passed Garfield’s test with flying colors and sticky hands.</p><p>The pastor looked over his own plate of brownie and glared at me as if I had challenged his frivolous interpretation of Old Testament genealogies.</p><p>He paused in mid-fork. The tense young volunteer guests ceased eating as well, waiting an awkward moment for a cue from the pastor on how they should react.</p><p>Then, the mouthpiece of God collected his thoughts and, channeling the voice of the Holy Spirit, finally spoke, rather hollowly:</p><p><em>"Well … Thanks for that, Chris."</em></p><p>It felt to me as though the pastor and Garfield may have had a difference of opinion about the best way to evaluate his wife’s baking skills. I made a note of this.</p><p>I also gathered that I probably had to woo his daughter without the aid of my vast array of fart jokes.</p><p>It’s too bad. I had some good ones.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-the-chair-test</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:155161764</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 28 Jan 2025 11:52:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/155161764/e30b2be5671ead5c5b2c99434d229cb4.mp3" length="5112064" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>256</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/155161764/26116fdb829bb4f3644604d9b07ea10a.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Yelling at the Library]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone </em></strong></p><p>The Wahoo Public Library in 1949 is an intimidating place, housed in an upper floor of the grim, 1891-vintage City Hall.</p><p>I’m Bobby, a skinny 10-year-old town kid standing in front of the building just as the sun is going down. It is a gloomy and cold early-winter evening. Spooky shadows are beginning to fall, made even more ghostly by the low-wattage streetlights which were beginning to switch on, offering only a sickly illumination.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p>I clutch a bundle of borrowed books which will become overdue if I don’t get them to the librarian this very night. I think I remember that the library is open some evenings. I’m counting on this being one of those nights.</p><p>During the day, the librarian, Miss Mona Steen, rules her musty upstairs domain within that dour building. The maiden daughter of a prominent local family, she has been the only librarian I and a lot of other people in Wahoo have ever known.</p><p>Miss Steen employs an effective librarian’s “Shss!” (more of a hiss) and an icy glare that can instantly freeze a chatty child into silence. She wields a mean date stamp, too, its sharp thump creating the room’s only acceptable noise audible over the patrons’ stifled whispers.</p><p>The books I carry tonight have been date-due stamped by Miss Steen’s own hand. I will have to face her displeasure if I am unable to lay them at her feet tonight. There is no outside book drop.</p><p>Miss Steen officiates from her desk atop a raised platform. She has a gimlet stare that can pierce a kid’s very soul. The late fine will probably be only a few pennies per day, but I face having to confront the lion in her den.</p><p>I stand on the sidewalk on the northeast corner of Broadway at Sixth Street, looking up at the library stairs door on the gloomy northeast corner. A single gooseneck light fixture, hooded by a white porcelain steel shade, cranes its neck downward to shine feebly on the thick wooden door and its heavy brass latch and key lock.</p><p>I desperately rattle the locked door. It doesn’t give an inch. I panic. I can barely see a dim light through cracks in the door, and I believe I hear faint voices from within. There might be hope after all. I peer more closely through the dim light at the lock and see a word on the heavy brass plate: “Y-A-L-E”. I turn that word over and over in my fifth-grade mind.</p><p>Don’t ask me why, but I settle on pronouncing it phonetically as “Y-E-L-L.”</p><p>That’s it! I’m saved! I’m supposed to <em>YELL</em> for people to let me in!</p><p>In a desperation born of panic, I proceed to yell as loud as can: “Hey! Hey! HELLO!” But no one answers.</p><p>I continue to shout as Orville Zauss rides by on his bicycle.</p><p>Orville is a slow, intellectually challenged young man, sheltered since birth by his loving mother, who wouldn’t let anyone take her son away for special schooling. He grew into young manhood as her gentle, simple child.</p><p>Orville rides his Schwinn bike which sports an actual police-car’s whip antennae over the rear fender, along with his own version of a police radio -- a small, plain wooden block with an electric wire dangling loose from the handlebars. I’ve often seen him mumbling “police broadcasts” into it, and seemingly receiving and broadcasting police orders. I could never quite catch the exact words.</p><p>Orville hangs out a great deal at the police station and fire hall located on the City Hall’s street level. Everyone in town knows Orville is odd, different and quirky, but over the years they have found him to be harmless and even colorful. Kids, being kids, often tease him. But Orville, with his gentle manner, doesn’t respond, and bullies soon lose interest.</p><p>Orville pulls up to the door. “Hi, Bawby,” he calls out in his thick, slow way. “What’cha doin’?” He always wants to help people; he thrives on their attention and loves their thanks.</p><p>I explain that instructions on the door require me to yell in order to get into the library. Orville accepts this as true logic. He dismounts, leans heavily against my shoulder, and together we start yelling into the keyhole.</p><p>Naturally, nobody appears. My voice is getting raspy and thin. At last, the futility of the situation overtakes me and we shrink away from the door.</p><p>Orville, having arrived late in the shouting, is willing to keep up the crusade, but he climbs back on his bike. “Bye, Bawbie,” he calls, riding off to continue his imaginary police and firefighter duties.</p><p>I slink away into the shadows and head for home, still clutching the books. How ridiculous this must have looked, right there downtown in the open!</p><p>Thank goodness, nobody had walked by to ask us what in the world did we think we were doing? But I can only guess how many people driving past wondered why Hank and Irma’s kid and the village character are shouting into the closed library door on this bleak night.</p><p>* * *</p><p>As I remember it now, the next day I humbled myself before my inquisitor and returned the books.</p><p>It actually wasn’t as bad as I had feared. Miss Steen frowned and stared me down, of course. But then, in a businesslike manner and through thin, pursed lips, she decreed the amount of my fine.</p><p>I forked over the coins, turned, ran down the stairs and burst out onto the sidewalk, free at last of guilt and debt, and leaving Miss Steen to her tight little literary world and her brand of library justice.</p><p>Today I grin to realize that it would have saved Orville and me a lot of embarrassing yelling if only the City Hall builders had, instead of a Yale brand, installed a Schlage lock, those many years ago.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-yelling-at-the</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:154780121</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 21 Jan 2025 11:00:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/154780121/a06989e824433736f570ffd27208d1f6.mp3" length="10716398" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>536</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/154780121/c61bf29549605720a29ae6c5fc08fbd1.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: No Rush For Gold ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p>My connections with dentists in Wahoo as a young boy had always been fraught by distrust on my part.</p><p>I hated dental appointments, and a dentist was anything but happy to see me come trembling in with a well-founded fear of seemingly inevitable pain.</p><p>There were three dentists practicing in downtown Wahoo in the 1950s – Drs. R.E. Sklenar, William L. Kling and William Houfek.</p><p></p><p>Dr. Kling often drew the short straw as my dentist. Bad news for both of us, I guess. His office was right across the street from the Wigwam Café. I probably spent more time at the family-owned Wigwam than at my own home on 9th Street.</p><p>Anyhow, one day when I was about 9 years old Mom had lied to me and said I was only going in to have a dental checkup. She had to misinform me in order to get me there.</p><p>So here I was reclining on the torture chair, squirming and terrified, with Dr. Kling advancing upon me brandishing a huge Novocain needle to prepare for the dreaded drill.</p><p>I played the familiar children’s ace card for getting through a tight spot:</p><p>“I gotta go to the bathroom,” I squeaked.</p><p>Dr. Kling sighed, signaling his impatience, but he had to put down his needle weapon. When a kid’s gotta go, he’s gotta go. It was my last refuge.</p><p>I scampered out the office door and found the bathroom down the hall. Dashing in, I locked the heavy wooden door behind me. The minutes ticked by</p><p>I refused to come out.</p><p>I didn’t have a Plan B, but all I knew was that as long as I was locked in here, no one could hurt me.</p><p>Dr. Kling and the nurse tried to coax me out. I remained stubbornly silent.</p><p>They had to call Mom at the Wigwam to come get me</p><p>That’s all I remember. I suppose I eventually had to take my medicine, as it were, and Dr. Kling got to have his way with my molars.</p><p>As I knew it would, I’m sure it hurt like crazy.</p><p>To this day, my antipathy toward dental work remains as strong as when I was 9. And I find myself scoping out bathroom locations whenever I visit a dentist’s office.</p><p>But to this day, Mom’s not around anymore, and I still don’t have a Plan B.</p><p></p><p><strong>No Rush For Gold</strong></p><p><em>I wrote this for the University of Nebraska Lincoln Dental School students who worked on my mouth. They got a kick out of it.</em></p><p>I lost the gold crown on one of my molars recently.</p><p>I probably swallowed the sliver of gold, but since the tooth itself remained and my tongue never recognized the loss, I didn’t know exactly when it went down my gullet.</p><p>Some years ago I had them extract a gold-crowned tooth. They gave me the tooth in a small envelope that I mailed to a scrap-gold firm, receiving a check back for around $100.</p><p>But this time, recovering the gold was going to be messier, involving close examinations of my digestive processes. I was dreading that.</p><p>Unsure of the exact time the gold was ingested, I knew I had to begin the salvage process immediately.</p><p>Kneeling in the bathroom for the first time to survey the specimens bobbing around in the gold field’s waters, my heart sank.</p><p>I realized that the tiny scrap of dental gold wasn’t likely to show itself on the outer or above-water fecal surfaces. Frequent messy, hands-on exploratory examinations and probes were going to be necessary.</p><p>I’ve never been tested for it, but I’m sure I suffer from coprophobia (fear of feces). I have every symptom.</p><p>So, I thought to myself, how much would I be willing to pay to avoid going through all this?</p><p>I knew the answer immediately.</p><p>Relieved, I got up off my knees, flushed away the possible Treasure of the Sierra Madre, and lowered the lid.</p><p>Best one-hundred dollars I ever forfeited.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-no-rush-for</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:154545923</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 14 Jan 2025 11:28:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/154545923/21021afef40d92c2703a97147f12af81.mp3" length="9930634" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>496</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/154545923/9a36e5be50541cad841551bcabcc509a.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: A Lesson in Christmas Sharing]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong>By Bob Copperstone</strong></p><p>I suppose most every family creates its own routine of visits to relatives on holidays.</p><p>Christmas Eve visitors at our house visitors usually were Mom’s brother and sister-in-law and their son and two daughters. Gary, the son, was one of my best friends while we were growing up.</p><p>His family had always had a rather rough time of it, I remember.</p><p>His dad was a rarely successful door-to-door salesman and was almost always on the road. Gary’s mother waited tables at the Wigwam Café and elsewhere, or had other clerking jobs almost all the time.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p>Somehow, though, her wages never seemed to trickle down much to the kids, but some of the relatives noted harshly that she herself always managed to be expensively well-dressed.</p><p>It was always a struggle to keep food on the children’s table, a roof over their heads, and clothes on their backs. But there was only a little money left for anything beyond necessities.</p><p>It always seemed to me that Gary’s parents were seldom home at their stark little rented half of a house in Wahoo.</p><p>Christmas Eve night was always my family’s gift-opening time. We children couldn’t wait until morning, and our parents gave up trying.</p><p>One such night sticks in my memory today.</p><p>Gary and I were about 7 or 8 years old. Santa had arrived as scheduled, and my sisters Rochelle and Janie and I had an almost-obscene pile of presents to open.</p><p>But Gary and his sisters each got one gift only. Gary opened his and took out a toy metal truck that, to my dismay, showed some previous owner’s playtime wear.</p><p>I was disappointed for Gary, and I hope I didn’t say anything the time, because he seemed to sluff it off. I stared down at the truck, then up at Gary’s face, looking for his reaction.</p><p>But he apparently was accustomed to low expectations, because his face was a blank mask. He merely sat the truck down and, without a word, turned his attention to everyone else’s’ gift-opening frenzy.</p><p>I don’t remember his sisters’ small gifts. I hope they weren’t used items, too.</p><p>That Christmas left a mark on me as I realized for the first time I might be luckier than some other kids.</p><p>I always thought it had to have left a mark on my late cousin/best friend Gary, but I guess I’ll never know now. To his credit, all his life I never once heard him speak bitterly toward his parents.</p><p>My heart went out to him that Christmas night.</p><p>But Gary didn’t mope or show the slightest sign of feeling sorry for himself.</p><p>Instead, after all the gifts were opened, we two little boys joyously played with all the toys.</p><p>Gary’s hand-me-down truck had lots of fun left in it for its new owner, and was right at home in the little playtime world we kids created under the tree.</p><p>And all was well with the world, that memorable Christmas Eve.</p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-a-lesson-in</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:152920342</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 24 Dec 2024 12:20:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/152920342/441333ff87ccf2d2faa878fe224555a0.mp3" length="6159075" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>308</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/152920342/eeaf25220b643c1f360a089d6b21ec78.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Gift Giving ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong>By Bob Copperstone</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>The Power of Positive Santas</strong></p><p>While I lived in California some decades ago, I fell into a Christmas groove of donating to a police fund that delivered new toys to kids from needy families in Los Angeles County.</p><p>The Arcadia Police Department would ask the donors to help distribute the presents. I would love to have seen the happy kiddies receive my gifts.</p><p>During this one particular Christmas, though, I was working the editorial night shift at the San Gabriel Valley Tribune and couldn’t go.</p><p>But when I told my new bride, Josephine, about the program, her eyes lit up and she eagerly snapped the sleigh reins out of my hands and took on the job with gusto.</p><p>Jo got on the phone and located a rental full-costumed Santa Claus to do the ho-ho-ho-ing, and even bought and wrapped more toys to add to Santa’s donated bagful.</p><p>That evening, while I was slaving over writing headlines and editing copy, Jo and Santa were in El Monte and La Puente traipsing from one wide-eyed child’s house to the next.</p><p>One of the kids even broke out crying. Jo said she and Santa couldn’t tell if those were tears of joy or terror.</p><p>The next morning, when I got home from the graveyard shift, Jo couldn’t wait to tell me all about it. Then she told me about one special Santa encounter.</p><p>She said one small little girl could only just stand there, mouth agape and looking up round-eyed at Santa as he pulled toys, one after another, out of his bag.</p><p>Jo said she and Santa could hear the tyke whispering, in a prayerful, faint voice, “I <em>DO</em> believe… I <em>DO</em> believe…”</p><p></p><p><strong>Sweet as Homemade Cookies</strong></p><p>Not too long ago, I got the sweetest Christmas present, and I don't even know who gave it to me. But it really made my Christmas.</p><p>One evening a bright-eyed, smiling young woman knocked on my door and asked, “Are you Bob?” I nodded, and she handed me a bulging, brightly colored Christmas bag.</p><p>I was kind of stunned, and of</p><p>course asked who it was from. She said only that my secret Santa asked her to give it to me, and she walked away, still smiling. I’m guessing she was a teacher, or a mother, or something.</p><p>Inside the bag were grooming articles – men’s body wash, men’s shampoo, hand wash soap, a tin of cookies, a sheet of 20 USPS Forever stamps, and a $20 gift certificate for Wahoo Super grocery store.</p><p>But the gift I cherish most, and still possess, was a letter, carefully penciled in block letters on a lined sheet of paper and adorned with hand-colored figures of mistletoe, Christmas stocking, reindeer, snowman and lollipops.</p><p>I’m assuming from the letter that my actual secret Santa was not the woman who delivered the presents, but was a little Irish girl, who wrote that she is very excited about Christmas, and that she obviously misses her family in Irland [Ireland], and has a “very green tree with a yellow angle [angel] on top” in her room.</p><p>“I am happy to get to wright [write] to you!” she wrote, “I hope you have a … Merry Christmas!”</p><p>I did, indeed, have a merry Christmas, thanks to my little Irish friend.</p><p>She asked in the letter if I have grandchildren. I don’t have any, but now I like to think I’ve got myself an adopted little grandsanta.</p><p>I hope her Christmas was as merry as she so richly deserves.</p><p>I’m sure the little darling wouldn’t mind that I paid her gifts forward by donating the stamps to the Saunders County Museum, and the gift certificate and grooming items to the local Food Pantry. The gifts certainly would have come in handy if I really needed them, as she must have thought that I might.</p><p>I kept the cookies, though. Ate ‘em all in one sitting. They were delicious, filling my stomach as nicely as the child’s letter filled my heart.</p><p>Life can be sweet as homemade cookies.</p><p><em>…(</em><strong><em>Burp!</em></strong><em>)</em></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-gift-giving</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:152921002</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 17 Dec 2024 12:14:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/152921002/0387af218400beb6d713e7e5150b244c.mp3" length="7423924" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>371</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/152921002/fb87b6229d9475a67fadd703d9175232.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Letter from Santa]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong>By Bob Copperstone </strong></p><p>It's rather a well-grounded Christmas custom in our family here in Nebraska to use the "Secret Santa" method of gift-giving.</p><p>It is a holiday lifesaver for this old bachelor.</p><p>Every word, paragraph, text and original theme in the letter comes out of my tiny little brain. People have asked if they could copy the letter, and I am happy to oblige.</p><p>I toyed with copyrighting it, but to what end? Lots of bother as well as a little bit selfish, I think. If I receive a chuckle or two, I'm happy to share.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-letter-from</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:152861258</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 10 Dec 2024 12:35:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/152861258/7308e9a8577eefad31c9844ec59ed5c2.mp3" length="4245345" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>212</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/152861258/503eab89823b151e04dc3fc2d3f43342.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Growing Up Wigwam, Ep. 6: Love in the Cabbage Patch]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong>By Bob Copperstone</strong></p><p>Before my parents, Hank and Irma, acquired the Wigwam Café in 1949, Hank worked in heavy equipment construction for the county and the Meese Construction Co. in Wahoo (“I’m a cat-skinner by trade,” he would proudly say, referring to Caterpillar bulldozers).</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p>Irma was a much sought-after cook (including at the Wigwam, of course).</p><p>Dad’s work often took him all over the state for weeks at a time, and when he came home between jobs it was a joyous occasion for his three children. </p><p>Mom would tell us that Daddy was coming home, and would we like to go down to the highway a block away and greet him? Oh, wow, would we ever!</p><p>Rochelle, Janie and I, quivering with anticipation, ran down past the concrete cement culvert factory to the end of a highway curve and waited to spot Daddy.</p><p>However, we knew his appearance would be prematurely announced by a rising cloud of dense truck exhaust smoke and rattletrap engine clanking. (I learned later that his construction company pickup had been poorly converted to incompletely burn cheaper and handier diesel fuel.)</p><p>Sure enough, Daddy came into view. He spotted us and pulled over, and with a beaming smile and open arms, scooped up his swarm of children.</p><p>*     *     *</p><p>It was during these wonderful interludes that a treasured family ritual of singing our little hearts out was born.</p><p>After we had supper in the kitchen, Daddy would seek out the old rocking chair in the dining room.  He might have wanted to read the paper or just sit and rock, but his kids were having none of that.  We swarmed in, jumped in his lap and shinnied up his knees.</p><p>Daddy would start rocking and humming, “You Are My Sunshine,” and we’d all take it from there, settling in for an evening of song and laughter.  </p><p>Much of our repertoire was brought home from Sunday school and choir practice, and no small part came from radio’s popular folk songs at the time, such as “Goodnight, Irene.” (When I was very young, I thought they were singing, “I Ring Goodn-i-i-ight.”)  (Thanks to The Weavers).</p><p>Daddy was great at improvisation, and he came up with a song that never failed to stir a gritty, emotional punch:</p><p>He would start, and we’d all sing: “Oh, we DON’T love our Janie!”</p><p>The chorus would respond, practically shouting and stamping our feet: “YES, WE DO!  “YES, WE DO! “YES, WE DO!</p><p>…“Oh, we DON’T love our Mommy! “YES, WE DO!  “YES, WE DO! “YES, WE DO!</p><p>And so on, until our love of everyone in the family, or any other dear one, was fiercely emphasized. (One time, Janie insisted we shout out our love of Mittens, our dog.)</p><p>I always felt warmth after these songs.</p><p>*     *     *</p><p>Another of our favorite songs was a Czech language ditty called “Sla Nanynka Do Zeli” (“Annie Went in the Cabbage Field [or Patch]”.</p><p>Here’s the way we children mouthed the title: “Shla neeka doz-hallee”.  Only close to the actual Czech pronunciation, but it served the purpose.  The song went on like that for a couple of verses.</p><p>Even though Mom was busy running the household and couldn’t actively participate in our songs, she was always listening from the kitchen. I think she was the source of our adaptation of the song; Daddy would occasionally ask her about Czech pronunciations. </p><p>Mom’s folks had emigrated from Czech-speaking Moravia, and that was the language first spoken in her birthplace home here in Malmo.</p><p><em>And here’s where Annie’s adventures in the cabbage patch grow darker.</em></p><p>Today, the musical ditty survives as a frisky children’s tune.  Czech celebrations around the world often feature kids dancing gaily to that tune and story.</p><p>The G-rated version has Annie, with her little basket, tripping merrily around the cabbage patch.</p><p>But naughty Joe, hiding in the bushes, spies Annie dancing and, for some reason, barges in and stomps on her pretty basket.</p><p>Well, Annie loudly insists that Joe must pay for the damage.  Other townspeople, including her parents, joined her protest.  </p><p>Joe stubbornly declares that he doesn’t have to pay, and warns that he would flee and join the army to avoid the penalty.</p><p>Now, I believe this is where the story line begins to grow thin. </p><p>Look, it’s only a child’s cheap basket. How many coins would it take to buy a new one? Is it worth years of forced military service?</p><p>I believe that the name of the garden itself gives a clue to the original lyrics. </p><p>Think <em>Cabbage</em>.</p><p>Think <em>Cabbage Patch dolls</em> of the 1980s.</p><p>Think French people and other Europeans who for centuries have told their children that babies are found out in the garden under cabbage leaves.</p><p>Well, I did a little investigating the song’s original lyrics and now realize that Annie’s “basket” certainly was stomped on, figuratively and in a manner of speaking, and otherwise violated. Bad, bad Joe!</p><p>The old lyrics say Joe was pressed to do his manly duty and marry Annie, which he agreed to after much fuss and threats of escaping to the army.</p><p>(I’ll bet Joe wishes he could have gotten away with only buying Annie a new basket.)</p><p></p><p>(To be continued) </p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-growing-up-wigwam-eed</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:152023782</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 03 Dec 2024 12:39:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/152023782/8015859250e9ec4c5e35680a5c241aee.mp3" length="9721775" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>486</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/152023782/a92be81602d5af0bbb507e3aae9fbaa4.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Growing Up Wigwam, Ep. 5: Hank’s Wonderful Basement ‘Soil Bank’]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong>By Bob Copperstone</strong></p><p>I was 9 years old in 1948 when my parents, Hank and Irma Copperstone, took half-ownership of the Wigwam Café in downtown Wahoo with Clare (Muzzy) and Dorothy (Dodo) Miller.</p><p>I spent a great deal of the remainder of my childhood exploring the restaurant’s main floor and basement.</p><p>Believe me; I missed neither nook nor cranny of that fascinating building.</p><p>The Independent Order of Odd Fellows, a secret international social and charitable fraternity, owned the building and occupied the second floor, renting out the first floor and basement to the Wigwam.</p><p>So, I never got the chance to go into the top floor, which has since been turned into an apartment by the building’s present owners, Clayton and Sylvia Wade.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p></p><p><strong><em>Silver Dollar Treasure-Trove</em></strong></p><p>But to this small boy, the Wigwam’s basement held intrigue and secrets ripe for exploring.</p><p>Over the years, the basement was a secret trove of buried paper money and silver coins.</p><p>From time to time there had been withdrawals by my dad from his “soil bank.”</p><p>After all, he was the soil bank’s president and Chief Financial Officer, and liked to have a ready stash of cash to spend on family vacations and fishing trips to Minnesota.</p><p>He would convert the silver dollars to paper bills for the trips, but usually kept some of the seldom-seen coins for their shock value when he was paying at cash registers outside the Wigwam.</p><p>Hank took to burying money in the cafe’s basement, probably in part because his generation had experienced the “Dirty Thirties” era of the Great Depression, when banks failed and wiped our countless people’s life savings.</p><p>Of course as a businessman, Hank had an active account at the First National Bank of Wahoo. But he still kept stashes hidden in the basement. </p><p>Operating kind of like the real banks, his “First Wigwam Bank’s Christmas Club” served him well.</p><p>When customers’ silver dollars were spent upstairs, Dad would toss them into a box under the cash register, and then put them into huge, commercial-sized glass mayonnaise jars, which he buried in the basement when no one was looking.</p><p>Only half of the basement floor was concrete or tile. The storage and laundry area in the back half consisted of gravel over bare soil, and Dad would bury the jars to just a couple of inches below the surface and then cover them with gravel.</p><p></p><p><strong><em>Muzzy Miller Turns Golddigger</em></strong></p><p>I came home from California for Dad’s funeral in 1966, and one night I was at the Wigwam after closing time talking to Muzzy, who had been keeping the café’s books for Mom.</p><p>I was telling Muzzy that as a teen-ager, I had talked Dad into showing me the silver dollar stash so the contents wouldn’t be lost after he was gone.</p><p>Muzzy was mildly interested, but skeptical about finding anything after so many years. But he followed me and my potato fork spade down the creaky basement stairs and back into the windowless, dimly lit laundry area’s graveled-dirt surface.</p><p>I stabbed fruitlessly at the ground for quite a few minutes, but finally heard a promising metallic “clunk.”</p><p>I dropped to my knees and began clawing the gravel to reveal the jar’s metal lid. I dug further so I could lift the glittering jar chock-full of pure silver into the weak gleam of the single dim lightbulb.</p><p>Muzzy’s jaw dropped and his eyes grew large.  Grabbing the spade, he furiously began prospecting for treasure. We took turns jabbing at the gravel and found a second jar, but it was empty. The silver mine had played out.   </p><p></p><p><strong><em>Cold, Hard Cash, In Brick Form</em></strong></p><p>At one point, Dad’s makeshift “First Subterranean Wigwam Bank” experienced an intriguing chapter when he and his sister, Anne Cullen, decided to make a deposit of several thousand dollars in cash into its secret earthen vault.</p><p>I recall that my beloved Auntie Annie was a fastidious sort of housekeeper who favored plastic bags and bread wrappers for storage in freezers and most everywhere else.  So the greenbacks were packed solidly within a clear plastic bag for the interment, to await a rainy day.</p><p>-- Now, cut much later to that rainy day:</p><p>What emerged from its basement grave was a damp, solid green brick of money.</p><p>Buried plastic bags, it seems, prove to be ideal vessels for drawing in and retaining earth’s moisture.</p><p>The initial panic was eased after they sent the moist, green chunk of cash to the federal banking facility in Kansas City, where experts peeled back layers of the block to determine its cash value. Dad and Anne believed that most, or maybe all, of the amount was recovered.</p><p></p><p><strong><em>The ‘Safety Deposit Freezer Box’</em></strong></p><p>Like the real banks, the Wigwam’s makeshift facility had its own night deposit service in the form of an abandoned six-hole ice cream freezer that had been shoved into a dark basement corner and almost hidden by piles of boxes and crates.</p><p>Each night, after the “checking out” ritual of balancing the books, Dad would head for the basement and stash the cash overnight in one of the heavy-lidded ice cream tubs within the old freezer</p><p>.</p><p>Over the years, various treasured objects other than money found shelter deep in the old freezer’s compartments or hidden somewhere else in the basement. Not I, nor probably anyone else, knew exactly what was hidden where. Dad must have kept “deposit slips” in his head.</p><p>Naturally, Dad’s real bank offered actual metal safety deposit boxes for such safe-keeping, but the Wigwam basement’s own freezer-fortress served that purpose well.  It was handier, too.</p><p>In freezers and holes in the ground, Hank trusted.</p><p></p><p><strong><em>Burglars Make a Bank Withdrawal</em></strong></p><p>After closing up each night, Dad would always leave open the cash register drawer containing $50, so burglars wouldn’t take a crowbar to it, like they had done one infamous night.</p><p>A burglar had lifted the unlocked horizontal outside door in the back alley, stepped down the cement stairway and walked right in through an unlocked heavy wooden door at the bottom.</p><p>That door had never in the building’s history had a lock and key, but only a primitive bar on the inside. For decades, that long, four-by-eight wooden plank kept intruders out.</p><p>But it was discovered that one of our waitresses had sneaked downstairs earlier that day and removed the bar.</p><p>Police found that the burglar was the waitresses’ boyfriend, who used some of the loot to buy her an engagement ring.</p><p>The waitress lost her job, of course.  But later she, a rather simple type of young girl, had the innocent-like temerity to return to the Wigwam one day to show off the engagement ring to the other waitresses. My Mom, Irma, came storming out of the kitchen to banish her from the Wigwam for good.</p><p></p><p>(To be continued)</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-growing-up-wigwam-667</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:151398130</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 19 Nov 2024 11:22:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/151398130/96e97ef21cf9ca03e5f5f9d35e47f780.mp3" length="9606835" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>600</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/151398130/df25577afd54689237e4d32f331fa783.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Growing Up Wigwam, Ep. 4: Lucille's Gift Shop and The Dark Side of Jukeboxes]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong><em>By Bob Copperstone</em></strong></p><p><strong>Lucille’s Gift Shop’s Comic Book Treasure</strong></p><p>For years, Lucille’s Gift Shop, originally on the corner west of the Wigwam Café in the LaGrand Hotel building, was a thriving business in downtown Wahoo.</p><p>I confess it now: I had a real crush on Lucille Herrick. I loved that woman dearly.</p><p>I couldn’t help it. I was only 8 years old, and she let me read her store’s comic books.  For free! What’s not to love about that?</p><p>Lucille was like a second mother to me. I’d seek her out and hold up an owwie finger. She’d smile down at me, fetch a Band-Aid, and fuss over me a little. I just ate it up.</p><p>Some years later, when I was about 13, it was at Lucille’s that I ogled my first center-fold in Playboy magazine, which had debuted in 1955.</p><p>I lost interest in “Captain Marvel” that day.</p><p>*     *     *</p><p>Lucille herself was quite a pretty woman, with a terrific, gregarious personality.  She was unmarried, but not unloved, and capably operated her small, wonderfully diverse shop with a smooth woman’s touch.</p><p>It was kind of like a boutique, but not so frilly, and had something for everyone.  I did much of my Christmas shopping there, as did scores of others in Wahoo. </p><p>In later years, when I came back to Wahoo for vacations, I'd go to Lucille's at her third and final location in the old Hinky-Dinky grocery store on the corner below the Masonic Temple. </p><p>She'd help me pick out a trinket for Mom. The gift was always in good taste.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p>*     *     *</p><p>To this day, my sister Rochelle remembers seeing me and another small boy at Lucille’s original store.  I remember the incident, too. </p><p>Both the boy and I were reading comic books without buying.</p><p> Lucille walked over to the other boy and told him to leave.</p><p>"But … what about him?" the boy naturally demanded, pointing to me.</p><p>"Bobby's different," Lucille said, guiding him to the front door. The outraged kid stormed out.</p><p>On her way back to her post behind the counter, she caught my eye and flashed me a quick smile.</p><p>I just smirked to myself and kept on reading “Captain Marvel.” </p><p></p><p><strong>The Dark Side of Jukeboxes</strong></p><p> The Wigwam Café in Wahoo, like many eating establishments nationwide during the mid-century, had jukebox music available, but it lacked the gaudy, colored electric lights and bubbles of the wonderful Nickelodeon and Wurlitzer machines.    </p><p>A more fascinating jukebox could be seen at our downtown competitor, the City Café, which had one of the more elaborate such jukeboxes near the front door, for all to see.  Before my parents purchased the Wigwam Cafe in 1949, I would often go there to ogle the light show.   </p><p>I was fascinated as the mechanism performed its magic.  It would select the desired 78-rpm phonograph record from a tall stack, swing it in place for the turntable to rise from below and spear the record precisely in the middle, make contact with the needle, and begin spinning: The show begins!   </p><p>The Wigwam instead had seven miniature jukeboxes, one each in the five booths, and two more along the counter seatings.  Each box showed the dozens of tune titles printed on maybe a half-dozen flip sheet panels.  You drop in your nickel (thus the Nickelodeon trademark) or dime or quarter, and select your tune.  </p><p>Your musical choice was then electronically shoved down into the basement to a large, disappointingly drab green wooden cabinet that held all the necessary machinery to make music, invisible to the customers.  </p><p>In turn, the green cabinet shot the audio back upstairs to a huge single 18- or 20-inch wall-mounted speaker above the kitchen’s swinging doors.  </p><p>The Keyes-Nichols company from Fremont actually owned the machines, and serviced and emptied the jukeboxes. (I’m not certain of the spelling of the company, but that’s the best I remember.)  </p><p>The company’s partners were killed in separate car crashes under mysterious circumstances.  </p><p>There was a rumor at the time that they were murdered after refusing to yield to crime bosses.  </p><p>During that period of time in the U.S., organized crime was infiltrating the jukebox business.  <em> </em></p><p><p>"Every jukebox was a cash business selling an ephemeral product, and it was easy for the jukebox owner to falsify how many songs were actually sold, making the jukebox an ideal tool for money laundering and tax evasion for venue owners and organized crime.”  (<em>From</em> “<em>The Dark History of the Jukebox: How the Mafia Used Murder to Build Music Machine Empires” by Click Track: Music Industry Analysis.)  </em></p></p><p>After those deaths, the weirdness surrounding the Fremont jukebox company continued to seethe in my family.  My dad, Hank Copperstone, died in 1962, and my mother, Irma, took the reins managing the Wigwam.  </p><p>That included the weekly Saturday night after-closing chore of wet-mopping and waxing the dining room’s linoleum floor.  </p><p>She was all alone about 1 a.m. one spooky Saturday night soon apfter the Fremont men were “eliminated.”  She told us afterward that that their deaths were on her mind.  </p><p>The front and back doors were locked, the downtown streets were bare, and she was just about done, mopping her way back toward the kitchen. She was under the huge jukebox speaker at that point.   </p><p>Her sopping wet floor mop splashed against the corner woodwork when all of a sudden -- WHAM! The eerie silence was pierced by a deafening Top Ten musical blast. Some unseen person was in here with her, she feared. It scared her half to death.   </p><p>Had either the ghosts of the owners of the Fremont company or the Mafia come back to haunt the Wigwam’s jukeboxes?  </p><p>Nah!  </p><p>As it turns out, the electrical wiring from the individual booths’ coin boxes ran from the kitchen corner down to the record-playing green cabinet in the basement. Irma’s wet-mopping short-circuited the jukebox into a sudden, unannounced burst of coinless, if unwanted, music.  </p><p>Mom had suffered during her battle of nerves against a jukebox hex. But at least she got a nickel’s worth of free play!  </p><p>(To be continued)</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-growing-up-wigwam-190</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:151298091</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 12 Nov 2024 11:29:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/151298091/ffc8ddab8dd255041ebb68eb64ad6a92.mp3" length="11644387" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>582</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/151298091/279edff957b757b69dde3b7123e49dc7.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Growing Up Wigwam, Ep.3: Indian Maiden's a Real Looker]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong>By Bob Copperstone</strong></p><p><strong>Shabbily Dressed for Travel</strong></p><p>So after school lets out, I go first to the Wigwam. I see my dad, Hank, at the sandwich board or fountain, or cash register, or working the room as host, greeting customers. </p><p>“How’s your dinner?” or “Where’re you folks from?” he asks the tourists, always with a pleasant, infectious smile.</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p>U.S. Highways 30-A <em>Alternate</em> and U.S. 77 through the city are heavily traveled tourist arteries.  The tourist trade, as my folks call it, impacts the Wigwam so that we hire extra help during the tourist season.</p><p>My mom, Irma, is usually presiding at her kitchen, either slaving away at the steam-table, dishing up the day’s menu, or working on tomorrow’s special so it will be ready to pop into the oven when she opens the café at 6 a.m. and gears up for breakfast and the noon rush.</p><p>My mother always clucks her tongue at how tourists dress for travelling.</p><p>“Where in the world do they get those clothes?” she wonders.  “They really have to dig deep in the attic for worst ones they can find.”</p><p>On weekdays, the noon crowd often fills every seat.  We hire several girls from the high school to work from noon to 1 p.m. in return for a free lunch that they gobble up in time to go back to school.</p><p>(That’s why, years later, it seemed like almost every adult female in Wahoo could tell me that they once “worked for Hank and Irma.”</p><p></p><p><strong>For the Love of Billiards</strong></p><p>My dad, Henry (Hank), knows just about everyone in Wahoo and surrounding counties, and everyone knows him.</p><p>Whenever he steps out either the Wigwam’s front or alley door, calls of “Hi, Hank!” follow him. </p><p>So when he wants to play a game of pool, he sneaks to the Sportsman’s Bar and Billiards, usually going out the Wigwam’s back door. It’s kind of an unseemly pastime, but not totally taboo. Not too many a respectable businessmen could be seen frequenting one of the town’s many “beer joints,” as my mom contemptuously calls them.</p><p>My dad’s business attire would certainly draw attention if he tried to pop into the Sportsman’s front door.  His ample silver mane of hair sets off a crisp white shirt with sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms; a narrow black necktie; dark trousers; and a trademark short, white, always-fresh lap apron.</p><p>Dad shoots a mean stick of snooker pool, and is so sharp that he is one of the favored few allowed to use the pristine first table, which is kept covered most of the day to keep the kids and riff-raff away. The table would even be fit or use if Minnesota Fats popped in.  (He never did).   </p><p>I have inherited my dad’s love of pool. I and cousin my age, Gary Kracman, often peek longingly into the back alley window of the  Bartek’s beer joint pool hall across the alley from the Wigwam.  A sports memorabilia store occupies that building now</p><p>.</p><p>We wait until the bartender is called up front, and then we’d dash through the rear door, grab a cue, and start shooting the balls around, just like the big boys.</p><p>The bartender cusses us out when he spies us, and we run like thieves.</p><p>We keep returning, though. The hypnotic click of the billiard balls, the cigarette smoke pall hanging low over the pool tables, the smell of stale beer, and a faint whiff of the nearby toilets are like perfume to us.  The game is so <em>grownup!</em></p><p>Sportsman’s bar is mostly set up for snooker, while the one Gary and I window-peek at is for nine-ball pool, a game with generously wider pockets. Some of us called that game “farmer pool” or, more often, “slop pool”. It lacked finesse, we think, and we ignore the fact that many a Wahoo farmer could shoot rings around most any of us kids in either game.</p><p></p><p><strong>Indian Maiden’s a Real Looker</strong></p><p>Almost any photograph from years past of the interior of Hank and Irma Copperstone’s Wigwam Café in Wahoo would show a large, glass-framed lithograph picturing a beautiful, scantily-dressed Indian maiden poised to sacrifice herself into a fiery volcano. </p><p>As you come in the front door, the picture was on the wall above the rear booth. (That booth has since been replaced by a second restroom, which was mandated by liquor license laws.)</p><p> The picture has long been a favorite family anecdote:</p><p>The rear booth, as in many restaurants to this day, was the unofficial roost for kitchen and wait staff. In fact, in the 1980, a sign on the wall above the booth announced, “Irma’s Office”.</p><p>One day, probably in the 1960s, my mother, Irma, was sitting in her usual spot at the booth, facing the wall where the picture hung, her back to the front door.</p><p>One day, a frequent customer came over and gathered the courage to ask Irma why, time and time again, she was intently studying the maiden. He had been observing that for a long time, and it bothered him.</p><p>Mom was confused at first, and it took a minute to realize what he was talking about.</p><p>“Oh, no,” she exclaimed, “I’m not looking at <em>her</em>!”</p><p>She gently explained that the framed glass directly mirrored the front of the café.  In the reflected image, she could see the cash register and customers coming and going at the front door.</p><p>And at the same time, she could keep an eye on the kitchen, which was her main responsibility at the Wigwam.</p><p>*     *     *</p><p>I don’t know where the picture is today, but several years ago the latest property owner, Clayton Wade, told me that it may still be around somewhere.</p><p>I’m sure the beautiful maiden still hasn’t jumped into the fiery volcano.</p><p>(To be continued)</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-growing-up-wigwam-290</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:150533965</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 05 Nov 2024 11:30:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/150533965/e8effbebadc286dfb3f333ba98121088.mp3" length="10095326" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>505</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/150533965/8934037d9f53a600b6d7d1baffd72ba3.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: A Gravesite to Die For]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong>By Bob Copperstone</strong></p><p></p><p></p><p>A Wahoo City Council public hearing, which partly discussed confiscated graveside flowers at Sunrise Cemetery, packed the meeting on Tuesday.</p><p>At the time, I was unaware that many, if not most, of the protesters were there because they were furious that correctly-placed flowers and other displays had been swept up and destroyed in a mass cleanup designed to head-start a new set of regulations.</p><p>I asked to speak at the hearing because I believe a firmer administration, with a fair and sustainable set of rules, can benefit the cemetery, now and in the future.</p><p>My remarks at the hearing (see below) put me firmly on the side of those who are seeking redress to a possible administrative error.</p><p>To oversimplify the solution to the boiling tempers stirred up at the hearing, here’s what could – or maybe should -- have happened:</p><p>Someone screws up.  Someone admits it. Someone apologizes for it.  Someone says they’ll do their best to see that it never happens again.  Everyone is soothed.</p><p></p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p>*     *     *</p><p>Here are my remarks at the hearing:</p><p></p><p><em>The Copperstone family here in Wahoo has had a plot at Sunrise Cemetery since 1943, and maybe a dozen or so other of my relatives’ graves are scattered throughout the beautiful facility.  </em></p><p><em>Some of my fondest childhood memories are of holiday visits from far-flung loved ones who travel to their old hometown.</em></p><p><em>And as always, they want to visit the graves in Wahoo as well as in Valparaiso, site of the original Copperstone homestead.</em></p><p><em>Finding flowers and decorating the graves was always a serious rite and, frankly, quite a chore.</em></p><p><em>I wish we didn’t have to take long-term steps to save and keep the grounds beautiful.</em></p><p><em>I wish we could coast along as we always have.</em></p><p><em>I wish everyone could be relied upon to do the right thing concerning grave decorations.</em></p><p><em>I also wish gas was still 26 cents a gallon.</em></p><p><em>I could easily join my fellow citizens here tonight who oppose any strictures on this very personal task.  At one time, I might have chosen to join the opposition. </em></p><p><em>But I have a selfish reason to approve of the committee’s well-studied decisions.</em></p><p><em>That is because I find myself today in the unique position of helping to improve my surroundings many years from now.</em></p><p><em>You see, I will eventually share a site with my loved ones in the Copperstone family plot at Sunrise.</em></p><p><em>And it’s comforting to know that maintenance and appearances are in professional hands. My relatives need not worry that the plots around me will become less than properly groomed. </em></p><p><em>I decided recently to start improving my future home immediately. </em></p><p><em>I looked at the Copperstone plot the other day and saw that it looked kind of unkempt and cluttered. I decided to make it more compliant with the new rules.</em></p><p><em>Two huge cement urns, one of them cracked, and a pair of smaller ones with cracked white paint, had to go.  They were bare of flowers 250 days out of the year, anyway.</em></p><p><em>I stepped back and admired the neatness of the plot. That’s how I want my future home, and those of my neighbors, to look.</em></p><p><em>Life is good.  So is death, if it’s done right.</em></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-the-value-of</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:150859231</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 29 Oct 2024 10:30:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/150859231/5aa23f373c9747985dd4afc3407a71dd.mp3" length="5602787" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>280</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/150859231/df035b0db6329faf0c6cc53cfc768019.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Do You Smell That?]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>As a young college student no longer under the constant care of my parents, I reveled in my ability to do the things I wanted. Bedtimes, diets and study habits were all up to my discretion- the only limits being the lack of steady income.</p><p>I’ve always loved travel, and no longer needing my parents’ say-so, my spirit of adventure came alive when my buddy, Josh, invited me to watch NHL hockey games around the country.</p><p>Our wanderlust didn’t match our travel budget. We became experts at public transportation, splitting gas money, staying at cheap hostels, using frequent-flier miles, and crashing on airport benches.</p><p>But we stumbled upon the holy grail of cheap bachelor travel when we discovered couchsurfing.com.</p><p>The concept was simple: You sign up to let strangers sleep for free on your couch, and in return you are allowed to sleep for free on strangers' couches elsewhere.</p><p>This was pre-AirBnB, and although the concept may sound a little strange today, in 2010 it was akin to inviting Jeffrey Dahmer, Hannibal Lecter, and your mother-in-law over for dinner. Nothing may happen, but why in the world would you not just pay the $50 a night to be assured you weren't murdered, eaten or criticized the entire time?</p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p>●●●</p><p>The idea was for no money to change hands, and couchsurfing.com was to be self-policing. You are looking for a couch, that’s all. And your host is the type that will sleep on the couches of strangers.</p><p>I hadn’t heard of any gruesome murders connected to couchsurfing, but I was nervous about possible vulnerabilities. Josh had signed into couchsurfing a few months earlier, and his couch had accommodated a steady stream of drifters and hitchhikers across central Nebraska. He accepted only requests from profiles with flawless reviews, and never revealed his home address. Instead, he would pick up his guests at the Conestoga Mall parking lot.  There may have been some awkward moments, but never any real danger. As a result, Josh’s own couchsurfing.com street cred was fairly substantial.</p><p>But since my name was lacking from the couchsurfing.com data base, it was difficult to find trusting host couches for our hockey trips.</p><p>As a result, when we arrived in Raleigh, North Carolina with no place to stay, Josh was scolded for bringing a friend and creating a security concern. That night we dipped into our meager financial reserves for a hotel room.</p><p>But in Atlanta, we found a host who had no problem accepting my shaky credentials.</p><p>After my first experience with Atlanta’s public bus system, we were deposited into a dark neighborhood illuminated by a single orange-glaring streetlamp. We had an address in hand which Josh felt was a little strange; this wasn’t the way that he handled things when he hosted couchsurfers. We followed our smart phone’s directions and located a dimly lit, worn-out house.</p><p>Josh gave me the basic overview of how a typical such interaction works: There is a greeting, followed by some general conversation about who you are, what you're up to, and any philosophical ramblings that seem appropriate for the audience.</p><p>Then, the host leaves you for rest of the night, with the general understanding that you will fall asleep on the couch.</p><p>That’s it.</p><p>Nothing crazy is <em>supposed</em> to happen. <em>Shouldn’t</em> happen. Hopefully, <em>isn’t going to </em>happen.</p><p>We knocked on the door, and it slowly opened.</p><p>Our host met us, gave us the lay of the land, and alluded to his minimalist sensibilities. He spoke slowly and deliberately; carefully calculating each word. He said he had a roommate who was gone. He had never hosted before but had used the service extensively in his own travels. He was excited to host. He said he had always wanted to host. He didn’t seem to know a lot about the house, which he blamed on the absent roommate. All the furnishings seemed foreign to him. He said they were owned by the roommate. The roommate who wasn’t there. The roommate whose presence was as empty as my couchsurfing.com profile.</p><p>The wooden floorboards creaked with each step as we were escorted to where we would be spending the night. Our host asked if we needed anything. Josh said he was fine, and I asked for a blanket. He was happy to oblige. He fetched a folded, worn-out comforter and put it at the foot of my couch.</p><p>Bidding us good-night, he said if we needed anything, his bedroom is just upstairs, and he slowly retreated. He said he wouldn’t be far. He’s close-by.</p><p>I unfolded the blanket, laid down and covered up, drawing the hem under my chin. True, the comforter is kind of dingy, I thought to myself, but it will keep me warm. But after fluffing the blanket while getting settled, I became aware of a faint, unpleasant scent of decay, or mildew, or <em>somethin</em>g.</p><p>But worse, a stronger smell began to waft up that was quickly becoming an actual stink.</p><p></p><p><em> "Josh, do you smell that?"</em></p><p><em>"Uhh, what?"</em></p><p></p><p>I fluffed my blanket again, pushing up a fresh puff of tainted air toward him.</p><p><em>"Do you smell that?”</em></p><p><em>“Uh, no...?"</em></p><p></p><p>Over the next few puffs blown his way, he repeatedly denied the stench’s existence.</p><p><em>"Something smells like dog s**t, like actual poop from a dog. Do you smell that?"</em></p><p><em> </em>But Josh remained adamant in his denial.</p><p>Now, I am not an overly pretentious man, and encountering pet feces, dog or cat or any other mammal, usually wouldn’t bother me.  But, dammit, it’s a different story when you’re trying to fall asleep on the couch of a complete stranger.</p><p>I tried to force the s**t smell out of my mind, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep if I dwelled too long on where it came from. Or what it came from. Or who it came from.  </p><p>I gave up trying to solve the mystery. Something told me I would need my energy, and I tried to go to sleep.</p><p>●●●</p><p>A few hours later, Josh and I woke up around the same time. We began talking through our day’s plans. Josh left the room and I began collecting my things and making my bed. I decided to refold the loaned blanket as neatly as I found it. I didn’t want to upset anyone.</p><p>Then, the odor mystery was solved.</p><p>As I was shaking that blanket, a poop nugget indelicately fell out, bouncing down my front and landing square on my bare foot.</p><p>Let me repeat that last part. Dog s**t. From the blanket I had slept in. Fell on my bare foot.</p><p>I panicked and danced around shaking the blanket in search for more turds. Thankfully, that was the only one I could find.</p><p>As I was collecting my wits, I heard our host coming downstairs.  This was bound to be awkward.</p><p>My first thoughts were to confront him, but something told me that wouldn’t do me much good. I mean how would that conversation have gone?</p><p></p><p><em>“Dude, there was dog s**t in the blanket you gave me."</em></p><p><em>“Yeah, I know.”</em></p><p></p><p>I just wanted to get out of there and keep this man at a distance.</p><p>I decided Josh could be sacrificed.</p><p>Josh was standing in the kitchen, waiting for his oatmeal to absorb the appropriate amount of moisture. I knew his extreme extroversion would mandate that he make small talk with our host. Once the morning greetings commenced, I leapt into action.</p><p>First, I needed to dispose of the evidence, which I grabbed in a paper towel and threw in the trash, smearing it on the carpet in the process (yes, it was still moist).</p><p>Next, I washed my turd-tainted bare foot in the bathroom sink while my whole body was shaking as if a centipede was crawling down my spine.</p><p>I took a moment while locked in the bathroom to compose myself. I put on a brave face, unlocked the door, walked into the kitchen, and greeted everyone.</p><p>●●●</p><p>By then I was cool as a cucumber, or some other vegetable that isn’t covered in s**t. Our host offered us a ride to the airport and Josh, oblivious to this man's propensity to put fecal matter in the things that he shared, quickly accepted.</p><p>On the ride, Josh and I made small talk, or no talk, I can't really remember, but the entire time while I sat in the back seat, I could only think to myself, <em>"Josh has no idea that I slept in dog s**t last night."</em></p><p>As soon as were safely standing on the curb of the airport with luggage in tow and our driver back on the interstate, I blurted out:</p><p><em>“Dude, there was dog poop in my blanket.”</em></p><p>I had to repeat this a couple more times before he fully understood.</p><p><em>“That smell last night? It was dog s**t. Actual dog s**t. And I slept in it."</em></p><p>I walked him through my morning adventure, and we took a moment to pause and fully appreciate what had just transpired. Then we caught our flight.</p><p>●●●</p><p>I have repeated this story to everyone except my parents. It became my go-to, my icebreaker, my attention-grabber, my keep-in-my-back pocket tale.</p><p>But even after all these re-tellings, one day something about the events of that morning struck me and shook me to the core:</p><p>The entire time we were in the Atlanta house, I never once saw a dog or any other sign of a dog.</p><p>It didn’t come from me, honest. You’ve got to believe me.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-do-you-smell</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:149971634</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 22 Oct 2024 11:00:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/149971634/62fd4a150f7de8ff1318e0efd5669505.mp3" length="11251385" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>563</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/149971634/656e04dc037120ae71d1419e017f9869.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Growing Up Wigwam, Ep. 2: Wigwam Green]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong>By Bob Copperstone</strong></p><p>For many people in Wahoo and surrounding Saunders County in the mid-20th century, the Wigwam Café was a powerful, green-themed touchstone.</p><p>Today, I happily draw on those fond memories.</p><p>Along with the Fairview and the Day & Nite cafes on the highway north of downtown, the Wigwam Café was a community gathering place with nickel fountain Cokes, dime double-dip ice cream cones, 25-cent malts, 20-cent hamburgers, 15-cent french fries, 90-cent full dinners, and 50-cent Blue Plate Specials.</p><p>The crowds came for breakfast (we opened at 6 a.m.), lunch, coffee break, dinner, and evening snacking.</p><p>Those same people often headed for “the Wigwam” after school activities and civic functions, including football and basketball games and sock hops (the cafe usually closed near midnight).</p><p>Today, nostalgia floods the conversation when the landmark cafe is mentioned. A surprising number of people remark, “I remember the green.”</p><p>Yes, the official “Wigwam Green” interior-paint color.</p><p></p><p></p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p></p><p>The ubiquitous green caught the eye everywhere you looked – it was the Wigwam’s trademark.</p><p>As you walked through the green-painted, heavy wooden front door, you confronted the 1920s full-service soda fountain countertop, which was a lovely green and brown tile bulwark of a structure. </p><p>To your left was the green-painted cigar cabinet and cash register counter. To the right were the four green 2-seater (4 in a pinch) so-called “little booths.”</p><p>Stepping in further, to the right were the big green wooden booths, and on the left the counter with a dozen or so green-painted metal-back stools facing the green wooden counter. </p><p>Behind the counter on either side of the coffee urn were wooden cabinets and shelves, all painted green, of course.</p><p>The double swinging wooden kitchen doors looming large at the back end of the room completed the green palette. At the end of the west counter, backing up to the kitchen, was a huge hulk of an air conditioner cabinet, also green.</p><p></p><p><strong>Wigwam Green Paint Color is Born</strong></p><p>According to family lore, “Wigwam Green” was created soon after the new partners, my parents Hank and Irma Copperstone, and another couple,  Clair (Muzzy) and Dorothy (Dodo or Dode) Miller, purchased the café in the late 1940s from Malcolm Anderson, Dorothy’s father.</p><p>The two-story, plus basement, building itself was owned by the Independent Order of Odd Fellows, a charitable secret fraternity to whom monthly rent was paid, and whose members met regularly on the top floor.  The basement once housed a barber shop, with entrance steps into a pit from the outside sidewalk.</p><p>The new Wigwam owners realized they would need to do some repairing and repainting, so they huddled with Les Hult, the paint and wallpaper dealer across the street, who custom-mixed paint to copy the original shade of green (the Wigwam Café opened in 1929). After numerous attempts, Les came up with a spot-on match.</p><p>Les wisely copied the formula, officially labeled it “Wigwam Green,” and added it to his inventory of cans of paints for sale. There may still be items around Wahoo to this day painted our favorite Wigwam Green.  </p><p></p><p><strong>Art Deco Roots</strong></p><p>The green scheme possibly had been suggested by those beautiful green and brown Art Deco antique tiles on the soda fountain island and surrounding cabinets that caught your eye as you walked in the front door. </p><p>Unfortunately, according to the current owner Clayton Wade, the tile island had begun to sink into the floor that couldn’t hold the weight, and were crumbling at the grout. Clayton said they couldn’t be saved.</p><p>I have fond enough memories of Wigwam Green today, but I still wince at the teenage angst that the paint caused me back then.</p><p>Because it was my job to paint every spindle, leg, splat and rung of every one of those cursed all-wood bentwood chairs that lurked under the center tables, malevolently (and intentionally, I was sure) acquiring chips, scrapes and other paint loss that regularly required my time and effort to fix. </p><p>I think there were a couple hundred chairs.  OK, I exaggerate– 18 or 20, at best. It only seemed like more; they just kept coming. I had to paint the booths and woodwork, too.</p><p>The painting chores cut rather deeply into my social life, as that job required after-hours and weekend labor.</p><p>That often kept me from joining my wannabe-hoodlum friends I was running with at the time.  Only a few of us got to sport ducktail haircuts.  The rest of us, who were allowed to get only standard flattop or plain crew cuts, sneered and called them “ducks-asses” and pretended not to be envious.</p><p>Painting and Saturday night mopping and waxing the floors kept me from joining my pals who, naturally, were busy robbing gas stations and liquor stores and shooting it out with the cops -- or so our parents seemed to have feared. Actually, my obligations undoubtedly kept me out of some lesser mischief.</p><p></p><p><strong>‘Wigwam Corner’ in Southern California</strong></p><p>Several years ago, my sister Rochelle and her husband, Jack Wiltfang, purchased one of the Wigwam’s center-floor dining tables and several of the chairs from Clayton and his wife, Sylvia, who had them stored in the basement.</p><p>To my, and innumerable Wigwam lovers’ delight, the Wiltfangs took them back to their home in Oxnard, California</p><p>That furniture has been displayed, along with menus, china, "Blue Plate Special" compartmentalized platters, and other memorabilia, in what they call the “Wigwam Corner” at their home in Oxnard, Calif. </p><p><strong>Update: October 2024:</strong><strong><em>  </em></strong><em>Rochelle said that one of her granddaughters is using the table and some chairs in her apartment, and the other memorabilia is in storage. Rochelle recently had discussions about eventually offering the Wigwam Corner to the Saunders County Museum for possible accession.</em></p><p>Despite the nostalgia, a return of a lavish Wigwam Green-heavy paint scheme at the Wigwam doesn’t seem to be in the offing.</p><p>Several years ago, I broached that topic with Clayton, but he didn’t seem eager to resurrect that particular motif, as he had already taken the Wigwam to a different decorating level.  </p><p>The Wigwam has been closed and shuttered, with the front windows now papered over, since the Wahoo State Bank fire next door in November 2016.</p><p>But if I remember correctly, the Wigwam’s color scheme had been updated to nicely incorporate a less-mono-hued blend of colors. The result rather pleased me, despite my nostalgia for the more muscular green color dominance.</p><p>Looking into the future, I’d frankly be surprised to see any continuation, soon or ever, of the Wigwam as I knew it then. </p><p>But we can -- we must, and we will -- always hope.</p><p></p><p><em>(To be continued) </em></p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-growing-up-wigwam-ad6</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:150229181</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 15 Oct 2024 11:00:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/150229181/d6fa75d83821069f569190ebb44935c9.mp3" length="10273882" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>642</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/150229181/de144060c45f663ebaead56108622e49.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By Uncle Bob: Growing Up Wigwam, Episode 1 ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p><strong>By Bob Copperstone</strong></p><p>Today is any school day afternoon in the 1940s.  I’m a pupil at West Ward Elementary School in Wahoo.</p><p>Mr. Meduna, the janitor, rings the final “school’s out – go home” bell. (A t my age, anyone to whom I stand belt-high must never be called by their first names; that would be rude. His first name was Lloyd).</p><p>An explosion of kids, finally freed from disciplined movement and mandatory soft voices, erupt shouting and screaming  out of the heavy wooden double front doors to head for home.  </p><p>I don’t go home, though. My house would be empty, anyway. Instead, I strike out southeast on a schoolboy’s typically erratic path. </p><p>On the way, I investigate lots of ant-hills; I watch a city work crew digging a ditch; I kick a can down the road; or I play in a mud puddle or stream, if I can find one. There is a weeping willow tree on a hill across from the Lutheran Church whose elastic young branches yield perfect buggy whips.</p><p>Thus armed with my whip to fight off imagined wild dog packs and vicious comic book-style enemies, I forge ahead. </p><p>Destination: Downtown, and the Wigwam Café, owned by my parents, Hank and Irma Copperstone.</p><p>These are my magic places. </p><p>These are where the lights are shining, where the crowds gather, where the action is.</p><p>Downtown is where people know me, love me, and pay attention to me.</p><p>These are <em>my</em> people.</p><p>I walk the busy sidewalks, making sure to greet everyone with a polite “hi”, even if I don’t know who they are. They know me, of course; I’m Hank and Irma’s young son.</p><p>“Hi, Bobby” or, “Hey there, Little Hank!”</p><p>I didn’t ignore a friendly downtown greeting. That would be rude.</p><p></p><p><p>Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></p><p></p><p><strong><em>Bustling Downtown Wahoo</em></strong></p><p>When I show up downtown after school, I usually am on-call to run errands for supplies.  We need wieners (the Beranek’s original-recipe weenie, now called the Wahoo Weiner), so I rush out the Wigwam’s door, go east in the alley and cross Linden Street to the OK Meat Market.</p><p>I can almost smell my way to the store. The tangy aroma of cold-cuts, sausages and spiced pork permeate a big part of downtown, especially if the owners, the Beranek brothers, are firing up their brick and wooden smokehouse out back in the alley.</p><p>While Jerry Beranek or his brother fills my white butcher-paper-wrapped order, I play on the huge metal weight-scale standing tall in front of the counter for customers’ use.  I am a skinny little rascal, and don’t really care what I weigh; I just want to see the arrow pointer move.  If I play there too long, a white-aproned butcher barks at me to stop jumping on it before I break it.  </p><p>(The scales are still in that locked-up vacant building today, but the Beraneks and their business are gone).</p><p>I don’t have to pay there for my order. The butcher identifies the contents of the  in the white butcher-paper package with a black crayon marker, and gives me a cash register receipt that I was supposed to put in the Wigwam’s cash register so Dad could balance our books. I usually remembered to do that. </p><p>Next, I usually need to go to the Wahoo Bakery next door north of the meat market for loaves of white or rye bread, dinner rolls and hamburger buns. </p><p>I can follow my nose there, too, inhaling the warm, sweet, yeasty fresh-baked scents of the goods within. </p><p>There are no weight scales at the bakery to play on, but the racks of scrumptious pastries tempt me while they fill my order. Besides, if I want my weight and fortune printed on a little white card, I’d go to the penny scale at the entrance of the senior Fred Kolterman’s Ben Franklin dime store a few doors west of the Wigwam.</p><p>I peer over the bakery counter and see Gordon (Rocky) Rockwell working in the kitchen amid the flour dust cloud, ovens, giant food mixers, appliances and chopping blocks.  Rocky is the father of Brenda, my sister Rochelle’s late good friend, and is the husband of Twila, my mom’s pinochle club friend (more about the card club on another day).</p><p>I am often sent to Trautt’s Hardware store across Fifth Street from the Wigwam.  I balk at this chore, because Dad usually wants me to buy a cheap little screw or some penny-ante object.  Tom Trautt, one of the town’s friendliest people, runs the store with his parents. He’ll busily hunt down my paltry items and drop them into a tiny paper bag. I hand him some coins and apologize for such a pitifully small sale.</p><p>“No, no, no,” Tom chides, beaming even more brightly, assuring me that he is glad to see me and be of help.</p><p>It is for this reason I always try to give Trautt’s my bigger transactions, too, although I could have patronized Coast to Coast, Gamble’s, Svoboda’s Hardware, or the local Farmer’s Co-Op store.</p><p>Imagine today having seven hardware outlets (according to Don Berns, of the family’s Gambles store) in this small town, each of them employing people who, unlike today, are paid decent wages so they don’t have to take second or third jobs to support their lifestyles. </p><p></p><p><strong><em>Big-City Sidewalk Etiquette</em></strong></p><p>I scrupulously follow small-town greeting protocols in Wahoo, but learned the hard way that our street courtesy rules might not apply in  the Big Three cities – Omaha, Lincoln and Fremont.</p><p>One day when I am old enough at maybe 11 or 12, I solo to Lincoln on one of the smoke-belching, ancient independently-owned diesel buses that make daily round trips to and from those big cities.</p><p>I can’t remember if I bought a ticket at the City Café or, more likely, gave my coins – probably a dollar and change – directly to the bus driver.</p><p>The City Café served as kind of a depot, and the buses parked at the Broadway and Fifth curb alongside the Lindley Clothing store. Later, the bus stop, sign and all, was moved to the Cerney auto service garage catty-corner northeast of the Court House. (I can’t remember if the sign read “Bus Stop” or “Bus Depot”). Scooter’s coffee drive-through sits on the Cerny site now.</p><p>After a swaying, lurching bus ride, I am deposited at Lincoln’s huge (to me) bus depot, where I begin my odyssey by walking the few blocks toward the broad sidewalks of Lincoln’s O Street, and the big department stores and wonderful small shops within. </p><p>I am particularly fascinated by the two tiny “magic tricks” shops -- one on O and the other alongside the Stuart movie theater. I buy my exploding cigarette loads there, and my itching powder, car engine “bombs” and assorted gimmicks that sealed my reputation around downtown Wahoo, and the Wigwam, as a nasty little practical joker.  But I now realize that I got away with that and a lot of other shenanigans solely because I was Hank and Irma’s’s kid.</p><p>Lincoln’s bustling crowds overwhelm me and make this small-town boy even more wide-eyed and shy.</p><p>Walking down the city’s broad sidewalks with my chin tucked down and my eyes shyly darting up and down,  I mutter “Hi” to everyone who looks my way, or even if they don’t see at me at all. I feel compelled to recite the polite “Hi” that I never have to show in Wahoo.</p><p>Some startled Lincoln pedestrians smile at me and respond, but others are taken by surprise and blurt out a tardy “hi” after they had already passed me.</p><p>Eventually, I realize that Lincoln isn’t Wahoo. No one seems to care if I say “hi.” I know they can’t tattle my rudeness to my mom and dad, so I eventually adopt the big city eye-averting mode, bustling purposefully through the crowd and not looking directly at anyone at all. In other words, I am big-town rude.</p><p>I learn one of life’s little lessons in Lincoln, and I secretly enjoy being adult-grade rude. Unavoidably, though, I believe I lost of little bit of my boyhood innocence.</p><p><em>(To be continued)</em></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-uncle-bob-growing-up-wigwam</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:149971018</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Wed, 09 Oct 2024 00:24:09 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/149971018/99185c2066a163c5d569caa626605706.mp3" length="11243966" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>703</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/149971018/989f6cae3da46d9f9e0e53d8ec908507.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Dirty Laundry ]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>There comes a point in every boy's life where he wonders if he has what it takes to be a man.  </p><p>According to my vague recollection of the movie 300, at the age of seven, Spartan boys were taken from their families and forced to enter the State mandated education and indoctrination program.  Boys were weirdly made to get naked, go into the wilderness alone (allegedly… seems like being naked wouldn’t matter if you were alone), and fight off a CGI wolf. </p><p>According to my vague recollection of the History Channel, some African tribes practice ritual scarification.  </p><p>And according to some very real experiences in a locker room, Jewish boys get circumcised. </p><p>For Nebraskans from Grand Island, it’s the day our mom buys us our first suit. </p><p></p><p>●●●</p><p>Suit, as I lovingly call her, accompanied me through weddings, senior pictures, scholarship banquets, and all other suit related activities from the ages of 16 to 22. My first full-time job was the type where the sport coat was more important than the work itself. The first 6 months of new hire training, Suit and I put in some real heavy, corporate lifting.</p><p>In new hire training I hit it off a sweet country girl from West Virginia named Candace, who worked in Pittsburgh. Candace was delightful, and I'm not the kind of guy that uses the word delightful. She had a bubbly charm and was exceptionally bright. In a room full of narcissistic 20 somethings training to be slimy salespeople, she was a breath of fresh air. </p><p>Fast forward from training to real life. Suit and I were headed to Pittsburgh for my first big meeting. </p><p>Suit and I’s first big meeting was actually someone else’s meeting where they’d entertain somewhere between 10 and 200 random, important Vice Presidents where my big job was collecting business cards and sending thank you notes when we got home. I was lucky to be there, and a bit nervous. </p><p>Thankfully, Candace was local, and I could spend the day with her before Suit and I had to go full corporate. She picked me up at the airport and was excited to cram the Pittsburgh’s tour de force into one afternoon.</p><p>Candace pulled up in her brand-new SUV – her version of Suit – which she proudly showed off with new car smell, plush floormats, and the same sense of pride one finds after allegedly fighting off a CGI wolf naked. </p><p>First stop: Primanti Brothers, the Steel City’s premier offering. Candace explained this is the perfect combination of hoagie roll, hot sliced meats, and French fries. It immediately sank to the bottom of my gut. This was a pretty good sandwich.</p><p>The next few stops were a couple of bars to sample the requisite number of pints of Yuengling lager. As the cool suds mixed with the finely shaved beef in my stomach, Candace and I caught up on life. </p><p>Finally, we made plans to meet up in the morning for breakfast.</p><p>●●●</p><p>3:00 AM </p><p>I'm wide awake, curled into a ball with splitting stomach pain. My mom's advice to me as a kid with stomach issues rings in my subconscious.</p><p><em>"Chris, have you tried to poop?" </em></p><p>Good idea. </p><p>No luck. </p><p>It's getting worse.</p><p>I turn on my hotel shower, strip off my clothes, and transfer my fetal positioned body from the floor next to the toilet to the bottom of the cold porcelain tub. Streams of hot water provide temporary relief as time stood still. </p><p>Eventually the pain stabilizes enough to dry myself off and make another attempt at sleep. Only a few hours remained until Candace will be pulling up in her new SUV for breakfast.</p><p>I can't recall, but I'm sure I prayed. </p><p>●●● </p><p>7AM </p><p>My alarm goes off and I put on Suit. No need for a shower, I took care of that between the hours of 3:30 and 5:00AM.</p><p>Candace is waiting for me in the lobby and I am in agony. </p><p>The contents of my stomach are doing a clown car routine- at risk of everything spilling out at a moment's notice. I try to be polite. I try to be interested I try to be excited.  I can't be sick, not today. Today’s Suit and I’s first big meeting. </p><p>I barely bring myself to ask for a single side order of pancakes. I laboriously ate half of one before I throw in the towel. </p><p>Candace is suspicious but lets me keep my pride. I pick up the bill on my company credit card and we make our way in her new SUV back toward the hotel. </p><p><em>“Oh, let me show you this cool part of town on the way, do you have time?"</em></p><p>Dear God no. Anything but that.</p><p>But <em>"sure, let's do it"</em> is what comes out of my mouth.  </p><p>Wrong answer. </p><p>●●●</p><p> 8:30AM </p><p>The scenic route wasn’t part of the plan. </p><p>As she pulled up to my hotel, time expired.</p><p>I barfed.</p><p>Everywhere. </p><p></p><p>Panic ensued, Candace yelled <em>"oh s**t!!!"</em> and immediately sped back up, pulling away from the hotel and back onto the adjacent freeway. She had no destination in mind, just knew she couldn't leave me alone in this state.</p><p>The Primanti Brothers and Yuengling covered every square inch of me, Suit, and the interior of her brand-new SUV.</p><p><em>"Why didn't you open the window? why didn't you ask her to pull over? why didn’t you do, well anything that would have not resulted in you puking all over her new car and yourself in the process?"</em></p><p>All fair and valid questions.  I don't have a good answer to any of them other than saying it’s hard to describe the state I was before Vesuvius. All my mental and physical faculties were focused on one goal: don’t puke. </p><p>But if you've ever puked, you can attest that it does wonders. Despite not knowing where to put my hands and the excruciating scent of stomach bile erasing any of the new car smell, my mind had been cleared along with my stomach. </p><p>All along, I thought Suit was my rite of passage, but this was it. Puking in this brand-new car, all over Suit, all over myself, and still making this meeting – this was my moment. This was my CGI wolf.  Now I just had to take off some of these clothes.</p><p><em>"What do you want me to do?!?!”</em> Candace screamed while speeding down the highway wishing she had never agreed to be my friend. </p><p><em>"Pull over at this gas station and park next to that dumpster."</em></p><p>In the most literal sense, I peel off Suit, and use my now soiled button-up shirt to shovel up as much vomit as its polyester blend can move. It didn’t work well.</p><p>The shirt went in the dumpster, but I wasn't ready to give up on Suit. Not yet. I shook and folded Suit to seal up as much of the chunks and splotches as I could and climbed back into the passenger seat in just my white undershirt and my soiled slacks.</p><p><em>"Where can I buy a new suit?"</em></p><p><em>"I don't know. Brooks Brothers?"</em></p><p>F**k, sounds expensive. </p><p><em>"Ok. Let's go." </em></p><p>I'm trying to mentally prepare myself for how much money I would have to shell out and how exactly I would walk into a formalwear store in a sweaty white undershirt and filthy slacks smelling like bodily fluids-when I catch a break.</p><p><em>"Wait. Is that a Kohl's? Pull over!!”                </em></p><p>Every day before that and every day since then I have found Kohl's to be the worst place on Earth, but on this day, I have never been so thankful.</p><p>Candace parks. The clock is ticking. My meeting starts in less than an hour and I need an entire costume change. I sprint in and grab some sports coat that says "Medium" and a non—corresponding pair of black slacks that feels like it's made from athletic shorts material. I don't browse. I don't try them on. I purchase my new wardrobe from an old lady that is completely unphased by the state of my attire-- this is Kohl’s after all -- and ask her to direct me to the changing rooms. </p><p>Suddenly, I'm a new man. </p><p>My sickness has been cured and my image restored. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Candace’s SUV. And I didn't have any more time to help make that right. I google <em>"how much does it cost to detail a car” </em>tell her to wait while I run in really quick. I withdraw $200 from an ATM, shove the cash through the window, and yell:</p><p><em>"I'm so sorry, I have no idea where to get your car detailed, but according to the internet this should cover it. I got to go... It was good to see you!" </em></p><p>●●●</p><p>The meeting went surprisingly well. I went home with a stack of business cards, a long list of to-do items, and a Kohl’s sack with the remnants of my childhood innocence, and thought, <em>“Look at me now, CGI wolf. I overcame.” </em></p><p> But also, what am I supposed to do with this puke covered Suit? </p><p>I had too much sentiment to throw it away, couldn’t possibly explain Suit’s state to a dry cleaner when they <em>ask, “what kind of stains are these?”. </em></p><p>What the hell, let's just throw it in the wash and see what happens. </p><p>Magic happened. </p><p>Good as new. </p><p>●●●</p><p>When I got married, part of the perks of making my Groomsmen rent from <em>Men's Wearhouse</em> was I received enough in-store credit to get fitted for a new suit. I picked out a stylish navy-blue pinstripe made by Tommy Hilfiger. It took a few weeks for them to get it fitted to my measurements, but when it came in, I looked good. Real good.</p><p>Then I lost a bunch of weight and now it doesn't fit. </p><p>But you know what does?</p><p>My trusty old friend: Suit.</p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-dirty-laundry</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:148934447</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 17 Sep 2024 11:00:00 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/148934447/279e545c0b760a65195af7d5b72c8142.mp3" length="11704871" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>585</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/148934447/5f90f31c19af9ee5f3b83ee47db37e52.jpg"/></item><item><title><![CDATA[As Told By C.S. Beaty: Baseball]]></title><description><![CDATA[<p>The game of baseball is timeless and marked with nostalgia. More so than any other sport, tales of the greats are passed down from generation to generation. The modern inheritance is Topps cards of noteworthy sluggers. Kids learn to play catch in their backyards with their dads, all along imagining they’ll be the next legend.</p><p>My family didn't give a s**t about any of that.</p><p>We didn't care about any sport other than Husker football, and my parents only absorbed that fandom through osmosis. They moved to Nebraska in 1980 and had absolutely nothing else to get excited about when they made the decision to settle down in the least interesting town in a flyover State. My folks are from South Dakota and don’t have allegiance to any professional sports team I can think of. My dad grew up storing a shotgun in his locker and going hunting before and after school. My mom was raised in a strict Catholic home where fun was illegal. So, since bringing a loaded firearm to a public school was generally frowned upon in the years that I came of age, my dad didn’t influence my sports interests much.     </p><p>●●●</p><p>Cracker Jacks are gross, and I have a hard time naming more than a few active players, but there was one story of America's pastime that my Father entrusted me with. The fact that we cared so little about baseball makes it all the more cherished to me.</p><p>Growing up, I annually heard some version of the following story:</p><p>When my dad graduated high school, he joined the army and was almost immediately stationed in Germany. His first job in Germany was driving staff cars. He was the chauffeur for a handful of visiting dignitaries and important generals, but the real thrill was driving around a baseball player whose name I could never remember. He was only known to me as <em>"that baseball player that my dad drove around for a week in Germany."</em></p><p>I always assumed it was some minor leaguer or team mascot. A serious celebrity wouldn’t spend a week in the backroads of Europe without a publicist and a documentary crew in tow. Likely it was the kind of person that just wanted a free vacation or an easy way to make himself feel more famous. Cool story Dad.</p><p>I eventually remembered the player’s name long enough to Google it. Turns out I was wrong.     </p><p>It was 1983 Baseball Hall of Famer Brooks Robinson.</p><p>* 18x All Star.</p><p>* 2x World Series Champ.</p><p>* 16x Golden Glove Winner.</p><p>* American League MVP.</p><p>*  World Series MVP.</p><p>* His number 5 retired by the Baltimore Orioles</p><p>*  The greatest third baseman of all time.</p><p>*  The Human Vacuum Cleaner.</p><p>This guy was a big deal. I had no idea. I suspect, based on the story I’d heard, my dad didn’t either. But for a week, they were road trip buddies. They had an aggressive schedule and covered as much of Germany as the United States military had. They hung out with American troops, always with boxes and boxes of baseballs in the back of the truck.</p><p>I’m imagining my dad on a regular drive, it couldn’t have been much different from our family road trips –telling stories, getting annoyed in traffic, pulling over to go to the bathroom after declaring that his “teeth are floating.” But this time, Brooks is chilling in the front seat.  My dad probably let him mess with the radio though.</p><p>By the end of their time together, my dad (a man who doesn't get star-struck) was (dare I say) Brooks’ friend. How could he not have been? This is unsubstantiated, but after 7 days in the car together you tell me you don’t know a person like they’re family.</p><p>My dad never requested one of those balls, but as their time together neared its end, Brooks tossed him one, it read:</p><p><em>"To Randy</em></p><p><em>Best of Luck</em></p><p><em>Brooks Robinson"</em></p><p>●●●</p><p>Over the years, the baseball was lost. This tale always ended with my dad slightly shaking his head.</p><p><em>“I wish I knew where that ball ended up."</em></p><p>One day, he found it. My dad was going through a bunch of old boxes and there it was. The Ball.</p><p>At least, well, it had to be The Ball. I didn’t, like, DNA test it or anything, but there weren’t any other baseballs floating around that I knew of that were signed 50-odd years ago, tossed to my dad, who subsequently tossed it into a random box. Time had led to patinated calfskin and faded ballpoint ink. But if you held the ball up just right, kind of squinted a bit, and used your imagination to fill in the blanks, you could just barely string together:</p><p><em>"To Randy</em></p><p><em>Best of Luck</em></p><p><em>Brooks Robinson”</em></p><p>I had an idea.</p><p>●●●</p><p>My boss is the kind of man I cannot relate to. He’s a baseball fan. For my idea though, we needed to find some common ground. I told him about The Ball, and he woefully mourned its state, though he said that this kind of thing tends to happen. Hardcore baseball guys don’t collect signed baseballs.      If they do, they live locked away in darkness with the hopes of preserving them from the horrors of UV rays and oxidation. And even then, time can be a real b*****d to an autographed baseball.</p><p>Months later, on a random day, at a random time, this overly zealous baseball fanatical mild mannered regional manager handed me a Ziploc bag with a baseball inside.</p><p>It read:</p><p><em>"To Randy,</em></p><p><em>Best Luck</em></p><p><em>Brooks Robinson”</em></p><p>Good enough.</p><p>My dad had a new Ball.</p><p>●●●</p><p>I ordered a top-of-the line UV protected glass case that would display two baseballs with an engraved plaque that said "Brooks Robinson.” In went The Old Ball and The New Ball. Side by side.  Wrapped and placed under the tree until my dad opened it in our living room on Christmas Day. My dad opened it and said, “humph. That’s pretty cool."</p><p>To translate, my dad was pretty f*****g stoked.</p><p>He soaked it in for a moment, and then said,</p><p><em>"I wonder if he still remembers me. I mean we spent a week together driving all over Germany."</em></p><p>I had another idea.     </p><p>●●●</p><p>"SportsCollectors.net,” is the internet database where creeps and fanboys track down celebrity addresses and crowd source them in order to send them mail and try to get autographs. It's pretty awesome – even if you’re not a creep or a fanboy. I am, but if you’re not, it’s an okay place for you too.</p><p>Brooks’ reputation among SportsCollectors.net’s creeps, fanboys, and totally normal dudes was sterling. In autograph lingo, Brooks got tons of traffic but always returned. But if you’re a normal person, that means lots of people sent him mail requesting his signature and he would send those items back. After all, old people like Brooks love old things like the United States Postal Service.</p><p>I wrote Brooks a letter and concluded with a question:</p><p><em>"Do you remember my dad?”</em></p><p>Nine days later, a package came back with a note inside:    </p><p><em>"Chris,</em></p><p><em>I certainly remember being in Germany and riding in a jeep & signing a lot of balls.</em></p><p><em>I’m sorry I don’t remember your dad.</em></p><p><em>Please tell him when we meet again, I won’t forget it.</em></p><p>[as an aside What a great f*****g line.]</p><p><em>My Best,</em></p><p><em>Brooks Robinson"</em></p><p>●●●</p><p>I framed the letter and presented it on Father's Day. I’m sure it was a bit of a bummer, but you couldn't deny how great of a guy Brooks was. Even after admitting to someone they didn't leave much of an impression, he still found a way to make a new connection. A promise that I truly believe he intends to make good on.</p><p>There's something unnatural about celebrity. I don't believe human beings are meant to be famous. Parents advise against idolizing public figures since much of their fame is built on frivolity, narcissism, self-absorption, and dumb luck. But like anything, there are ways to use fame for good.</p><p>I don't know what Brooks' core beliefs were, but I know for sure that he cared about people. The kind of man that would spend a week with no press, driving around Germany handing out baseballs. The kind of man that recognized that his driver wouldn’t mind one of those baseballs, but he likely won’t ask for it since he was on the clock. The kind of man that treated that driver with such care and respect, that he would wonder decades later if he had made the same connection with him that Brooks did. The kind of man that would want to make a new connection, even when that answer was no.</p><p>I don't know what Kanye West or Deion Sanders are like in person, but I have a pretty good guess. The world needs more Brooks Robinsons.</p><p>●●●</p><p>On September 26th, 2023, at the age of 85, Brooks Robinson passed away. Celebrity deaths don't typically bother me. When you enter the realm of fame, you trade aspects of your humanity in exchange for a larger platform. I'm not supposed to relate to you as a person, but as a symbol of something you represent. This can be a good way of making money, but not a particularly good way of making people care about you.</p><p> But that night in my basement, I had a personal moment of silence for Brooks.</p><p>●●●</p><p>Even after his death, it seems that I'm just learning who Brooks was. And I still haven't watched a single highlight.</p><p>I opened up a browser and typed in “www.Sportscollectors.net” to look up his address one last time. Brooks died on September 26th, 2023. The last person that successfully received his autograph mailed an item to him on September 18th. Six people received their item back from Brooks after he had already passed.</p><p>I bet Brooks enjoyed watching each one being opened. I bet to each person opening their mail, the item was more than just an autograph. I bet it felt more like getting a letter from an old friend. </p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://www.chrisbeaty.com?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_1">www.chrisbeaty.com</a>]]></description><link>https://www.chrisbeaty.com/p/as-told-by-cs-beaty-baseball-a78</link><guid isPermaLink="false">substack:post:148700106</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[C.S. Beaty]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Mon, 09 Sep 2024 20:42:20 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/148700106/48084602e21c2dbb8626df5cc0b22c0f.mp3" length="11304675" type="audio/mpeg"/><itunes:author>C.S. Beaty</itunes:author><itunes:explicit>No</itunes:explicit><itunes:duration>565</itunes:duration><itunes:image href="https://substackcdn.com/feed/podcast/2376831/post/148700106/3f21aca4af9f5c9b0c86b0b66f759eaa.jpg"/></item></channel></rss>