Golly. Already 2024. Father Time really doesn’t wait for anyone, does he? Certainly wish I could say a lot has happened over the past year and a half, but truthfully, it hasn’t. I have never pissed in your mouths and called it champagne, therefore I won’t start this year. I won’t lie and say it is the end of a grand 2023. Maybe a few more ‘Little Debbie’s’ and far less visits to the gym, but otherwise, 2024 is the end of another wildly consistent year of my life.
To put it in layman’s terms, my life has been relatively similar Pokéfan Miguel’s – the first Pokémon trainer you encounter in Pokémon Emerald. Life throws you a battle, you’re optimistic, you get your ass beat, pretend it’s cool, and then after a little while you are ready to do it all over again. The only difference between Pokéfan Miguel and me? Bluehost charges me more than I care to admit writing about that shoddy little trainer. Who’s the real winner now, Miguel.
Being that it is 2024, I wanted to look back over the year and a half I have been doing this and admire the few times I have bested the Big Man up above. The times an ever-threatening, omnipresent force was feet shy from us. When a wintry doom washed over us, forcing us to realize our own fleeting mortality. When hope was no longer a green light at the end of a dock in an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel, but something we would yearn for from Hell.
Then we would realize it was the branch of a tree brushing up against the side of an abandoned psych ward. Turns out, the only looming threat to our mortality is too much red meat and a crippling alcohol dependance. We would also realize that all of our English teachers forced depth into The Great Gatsby. It’s just a fucking green light, ol’ sport. Relax. Now on to the top 5 times we thought we were goners!
Number 5
In places like these, it is common for your eyes to play tricks on you. Shadows leap. Objects move in your peripherals. The gorgeous girl you met inside actually has an Adam’s apple and size 15 feet outside. All understandable circumstances to find yourselves in. The only circumstance I have a bone of contention with is when there is a hooded figure at the end of the hallway frothing at the mouth.
It sees two young, palpable, plump bags of milk standing terrified. The only thing separating us from the offspring of Pennywise and Leatherface is a door that hasn’t locked in 20 years. We turned tail and got as far away from that building as possible. There is nothing admirable about dying when no one is there to see. They don’t give purple hearts to fruitcakes. Was it most likely a coat hanger with a moth-eaten jacket still hanging? Probably. Only the foolish would have stayed to find out.
Number 4
Shortly after that goofy little incident, we were met with another spook on the day. It was a same day, twice-caught-lackin’-God-forbid-it-be-thrice type of day. This one rank higher than Leatherwise simply because it is the double-tap. The icing on the cake. A final nail in the coffin of our minds. The apothéose. When your heart rate is touching that of an Olympic sprinter’s, this scenario is the last thing your cardiovascular system needs.
While hunched over catching our breath, we were met with a commendable adversary of laudable action. Xey sprinted out from the bushes and right across our path. Before we could fully grasp the situation, our heart rates once again matched Usain Bolt’s after surpassing top human mph’s. We looked over and it was none other than Sciurus Carolinensis of the Rodentia Order. In other words, an Eastern Gray Squirrel scared us far more than we scared it.
Number 3
When you are 8 stories high in a building that hasn’t been inspected since Casey Anthony mur-… was acquitted, things get testy. You’re not worried about what aviary wildlife resides up in this abandoned tower in the Catskills. No. You’re worried about tetanus and getting home for dinner late in a full body cast. Oh, and news flash: no one pens cute messages on the cast of a 24-year-old.
We took great notice of the rolling hills along with the setting sun while enjoying the cool breeze the top floor of The Neville had to offer. We soaked it all in. Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, we were once again bested by an animal, this time of a different phylum, class, and order. It was none other than the morning dove roosting high above, and boy did it scare the hell out of us. It zoomed past us and got an audible reaction – shrill scream and curses- out of one of us. If that was its goal, congratulations you cooing deviant, it worked.
Number 2
As someone whose stomach does a perfect-10 backflip at the sight of blood, or anything mildly displeasing at that, this one really unsettled me. I’m all for jokes and gags and zany little pranks. However. When the ‘gag’ is set up to look like a murder scene in a place that couldn’t be more ideal for a murder, count me out. As we crept around the corner, I was already getting attitude from the dispatch woman. Clearly anything more than a rabid coyote in a backyard is above her concern.
Turning the corner, I was not nearly brave enough to peek under the red-stained cloth. The long wooden stick we found, however, was brave enough to uncover the slain body hiding in The Pines Resort. As we lifted the sheet, we discovered it was none other than brand name Luxardo and a bucket full of their mashed-up cherries. Some hooligan got one over on us that day. Whether he was able to watch us through a hidden camera or trail cam set up, I don’t know. What I do know is that Luxardo cherries look shockingly like blood. [Video at bottom]
Number 1
Coming in at number one is the time, or times, I felt most in danger. The times that I really was not sure if we would make it out alive. These times had me wondering, questioning even, how does one end up in a situation like this? And I apologize to anyone in advance who this might offend, but it has to be addressed.
The towns we drove through just to get to these places we explore are downright terrifying. What decisions in life were made to end up in these places? They got the wrong side of the Butterfly Effect. They could choose water for a mansion in the hills, or a juice box for an old mattress in the back of a Catskill town’s general store. Even the nicest stores had a foreclosure sign on the front. My number 1 poses more threats to my existence far more than a rusty nail ever could.
Forgive my transgressions
Now that I have said my piece about those places, I would like to apologize. I guarantee each person in those towns would take the shirts off their backs for you in a Siberian winter. They are the backbone of America and have done nothing to deserve the shade I have thrown above. Please forgive my impudence. And if that word is too elaborate, forgive me for being a meany.