The Last Gigachad

Alright y’all. You’re invested. You want to know. Who is the sixth Gigachad? Have they been found?

They have been found.

It’s this b**** (please excuse my language).

Meet Florges. フラージェス. (Furaajyesu).

If you aren’t immediately on board, let me break it down for you. There’s something you need to know.

First of all, she is NOT a Grass-type. It’s a trick. Certainly you would think she must be. I thought she would be. She is not, but she has Grass-type moves. So she can still defeat measly Water-types.

She is only Fairy-type, which is still a great type, and also by not actually being Grass-type, she doesn’t open herself up to weaknesses to Flying, Fire, Bug, Ice… Grass has lots of weaknesses. So that’s good. (Except it doesn’t really matter at all because the game is so easy that I can beat it with my eyes closed at this point.)

Florges is stunning. We see that. And she comes in many colors.

Mine is yellow.

Now, she obviously has charisma and charm. This is a charming Pokemon right here. We can all agree on that. Right?

She has major Queen energy. A diva and a queen. Not too soft or feminine for my team of gangsters. Just the right amount.

I think she adds a certain element of polish and refinement, and a dash of feminine energy. Not that Tinkaton isn’t feminine, but Tinkaton has a little more of a crazed, insane energy. And Soubureizu is a scary, no-nonsense killer. Florges is rounding out the team, even while she blasts you into smithereens with concentrated moonbeams.

Which, yes, she can do.

To be a real Gigachad, you can’t just be swaggin’. You have to be strong.

She’s strong.

Florges can summon the full power of the moon and bomb her foes with it. That is a very satisfying thing to do, I’ll tell you, if you’ve never had the pleasure of doing it yourself. And as if that were not enough, she can also harness the power of the sun, and fire a magnificent destructo-beam of solar energy into her opponent’s face.

She also has insanely high Special Defence. Insanely high.

When thinking about who could be the sixth and final Gigachad, I had a feeling that this Pokemon (Flabébé) might have been the one. And it did turn out to be her.

This is the first version of Florges. And here is the second.

Neither Flabébé nor Floette suggest what incredible power and beauty lies in their final form. I wouldn’t have thought this thing even evolved. Who would have imagined that this soft-looking flower child had it in them to become such a regal, majestic queen?

And look at her now!

The story of Flabébé just goes to show you: everyone deserves a chance. Any one of these little darlings can have the greatest glow-up of the century. You can’t write them off right out of the gate.

I mean, remember this guy?

It’s the classic story of the nerdy kid in school who ends up becoming a billionaire, and cool. And perhaps there was one kid who saw their potential and stuck with them in those dark days. Dorameshiya (Dreepy) is that kid.

With the addition of Florges to the roster, the full team of Gigachads has been assembled.

Real Gangsters, 100% Swaglords, Escaped Convicts, Ultimate Gigachads

You can see how THE QUEEN rounds out the team vibes. Every other member of the gangster squad—Gaburias, Doraparuto, Soubureizu, Dekanuchan, Manyuura— all of them look like they could’ve just busted out of Poke-prison. They’re hard.

But Florges? You would be totally surprised to find out she was an ex-convict. What kinds of henious crimes had she committed? You would look at her in awe and wonder to what extraordinary deviousness she had been up to that landed her behind bars.

I imagine she would be running mob rings, leaking information, embezzling monies and generally doing a lot of double-crossing.

So… The Gigachad Army is complete. What now?

This is about the end of the Pokemon arc for me. I’ve almost entirely stopped playing the main game, and have spent all of my recent time scouring the land for the truest, greatest gangsters, most notable and worthy Gigachads. And now that I’ve got them, there is simply no one that can stand in my way.

I’m near the end of the game. The story is picking up—it’s actually pretty good for a Pokemon game. There are many characters (too many), and you should have never given them your phone number because half of them are calling you all the time. The other half magically show up whenever it’s time for the plot to move, and they usually all decide to do this at once, so that for most of the game you have absolutely no story progression and minimal dialogue, and then you unsuspectingly walk into a room and are inundated with 400 lines of complex plot conversations.

From some of these lengthy dialogues, last night, we learned that the delinquent children who created a gang called the Star Gang (スター団) or Star Army, the truant children who are no longer attending the school (of which you are a new student), have all dropped out and formed the gang because they were severly bullied at school. It’s something of a twist, as you are led to believe that they are just ne’er-do-ells and don’t want to go to school.

At the defeat of the fourth gang leader, the previous school’s principal shows up, and he further elaborates on the great tragedy of the bullying, and his failure as a principal, and how he destroyed the records, which was horrifying information for the current school principal, who is accompanying you undercover, trying to get the kids back to school…

I missed exactly why the last school principal did destroy the records. This was on dialogue line 355 and I was starting to get tired of playing at that point.

There is one reason to keep going, and that’s to figure out who the mystery character カシオピア is, Cassiopia. (Which, isn’t that a great name? Cassiopia is an amazing name.)

All game, you have been getting calls from this mystery person, who has recognized your extraordinary potential, as everyone did somehow after you won your first three Pokemon battles, requested your assistance in taking down the Star Gang, and who pays you for it. I remember in the beginning that you are given the option to refuse to help her, which I think I took, but somehow you end up working with her anyway, because she’s part of the plot. Well, we all want to know who this mystery woman is and what she’s up to. She could even be a he, that would be a twist. She could even be the principal! And he had contrived the whole bullying episode to create a scandal and oust the previous principal. Now that would be juicy.

It’s good to have some mystery and intrigue in your story. What’s the deal with Cassiopia? Who was the bully that ruined the lives of so many kids at the school and led to the creation of the notorious and renegade Star Gang?

I haven’t formed many theories and haven’t cared much about the Star Gang. I’ve been Gigachad hunting. But now that I’ve got the squad… we might just have to see how the game ends.

The Fifth Gigachad

After a long night of candlelight adventures, involving a deep dive through my mental and emotional state, reading old journals and having reflections on life and my purpose — I knew there was one thing I wanted to do for you today, upon my waking. There was one mission I had to fulfill as my duty, on this Wednesday, in the middle of August, in the year 2025, one quarter of the way through the 21st century, what is most likely to be known to humankind as the greatest century in human history.

I have to tell you something. First of all. My two dollar candle (it was $1.99 at Kroger) is STILL going. I must have gotten forty or fifty hours of burn time out of this baby. Unassuming and unscented, it looks like a glass of milk, with white wax, and it sits in a literal glass cup, that looks like any regular, cheap glass drinking cup. It cost two dollars at Kroger. Yet it is the most superior candle I have ever spent my money on.

George Washington spent $15,000 (in modern monies) in candles to get through a winter. That poor guy. He had a large estate. I wonder how many candles he had. What was he getting up to?

I was thinking about him because I feel blessed that my fire light is cheap as heck, in the modern world. And I was thinking about him burning candles in the winter because I’ve been thinking about how this candlelight thing is going to go when the nights are fifteen hours long.

I’m ready for it.

We need torches.

So, again after writing all day yesterday about finding the Fourth Gigachad, Soubureizu, I am now fully in on this Gigachad quest. Today, you don’t need a huge entire Pokemon Gigachad discussion. You don’t need a full story. You already know the criteria for making it on the Gigachad squad — you certainly read my last blog post. You are invested now, I know, you know the backstory, the failures of the giraffe and the dolphin and the scarab beetle.

And if you read my post TWO posts ago, you may remember that I said I had a lot of eggs in THIS guy’s basket.

This is ドラメシヤ, Dorameshiya, AKA Dreepy.

Let me tell you about this thing.

As I first began my great Paldean adventure, it wasn’t long before I started to spy a strange icon pop up on the radar. There’s a little minimap in the game that shows you what Pokemon are around, and I started to see, occasionally, a giant triangular head, with big yellow eyes, and with blue and green coloration. Whatever this Pokemon was, it had my interest, and based on the colors and the fact that I always saw it by rivers made me think it must have been some kind of frog creature. I guessed it would be Water / Grass type, most likely.

Every time I saw the icon, I went to it, trying to find one of these mysterious creatures. I had been hunting for it, couldn’t find it, couldn’t find it — and then one day, I finally did.

It was not what I expected. A whispy little green weakling, floating in midair, with big yellow eyes.

What the heck is it?

Interesting Pokemon, though. And it was not a frog, not Water or Grass-type at all. No, it was Ghost / Dragon. That was the most shocking thing. Ghost / Dragon? A dragon ghost? Okay. Before, it had my interest. Now it had my attention.

Pretty much all Dragon-types are powerful. And the fact that it was also a ghost? Something good has got to come out of this thing, right? Something really good. That was my thinking.

What was Dorameshiya’s secret? I was very curious. I kept it around, and I trained it. I trained it. I tried to fight with it. But here was a problem.

Dorameshiya is the weakest Pokemon in the game, by far. No contest. Even worse than Karabou, the fire knight child, even worse than Teddiursa, the cute little teddy bear.

Teddiursa. An absolute monster-beast compared to Dreepy.

Dreepy could not kill anything, Dreepy could not hang around with anyone, in any fight. Dreepy was 100% useless. Could not even finish someone off.

I would set up a Pokemon for being taken down. Surely, I could put Dreepy in, after weakening it, I could bring in the Dreepster and have it get the finishing blow and get a little extra exp. Right? Surely Dorameshiya could handle things now.

No. My Dreepy must have been KO’ed about fifty times.

Long story short — I completely gave up on using Dorameshiya or getting anything out of it at all. He was simply not a part of the game. He was just on my team, growing, waiting, slowly leveling up and doing nothing, all in the hopes of future greatness. I stuck it out with this yahoo until about level 42, and then I started to feel suspicious, that he was STILL stuck as a runt, that far along. Surely, he should be evolving now. Surely he must stop being an unbearable weakling, like, NOW.

I did my research, WITHOUT any spoilers (so I didn’t know what the evolutions would look like, because that takes a lot of the fun out of it), and the omnipotent internet gave me some answers. It told me that I didn’t have to do anything fancy. No trickery, no cursed armor. You just had to stick with this loser until level 50. And then, for the final form, level 60. SIXTY.

Come on!!!!

But you know, if they are going to make you wait that long, the longest you ever have to wait for an evolution in the history of Pokemon — the payoff MUST be good. Right? It MUST be.

Still, I was bored of sticking it out with Dorameshiya. I put him away and turned to other Pokemon, tried many others. But no one was making the cut, except Tinkaton, and then Soubureizu.

And then yesterday evening, I knew what I had to do.

I had to know if Dorameshiya was going to be the fifth Gigachad.

I evolved him into the second form. Now I had some hope.

Now, look at what we got here. ドロンチ. Doronchi is quite a step up. And that’s a cool name — Doronchi. We are starting to have a Pokemon here.

Dorameshiya just went and got its older brother. At least he looks like he could handle himself somewhat more, and he could. Doronchi could actually fight now, although it was still nothing powerful.

This was encouraging. Who would follow Doronchi? We had to get to level 60.

It was a slog, I’ll tell you. It was taking quite a time to get from 50 to 60. And for those last few levels, I just decided — I was all in. My primary objective was getting Doronchi to 60. I had to know.

Could he be The Fifth Gigachad?

I have to tell you guys, I was somewhat afraid of knowing the truth. I was afraid that all of my investment would not pay off. I was afraid of being let down.

I had put so much time and energy into this weakling. I had him for most of the game. And now I was about to have my answer. Gigachad or no?

Well y’all.

I’ll let you decide.

ドラパルト, AKA Doraparuto, AKA Dragapult.

Is this The Fifth Gigachad?

This is definitely the fifth.

Look at that slant in the eyes; look at that squint. What a sassy Pokemon! A giant salamander tail! And what’s up with the hands? Why does it hold its hands like that? That’s just goofy.

Something about it is giving cat. I don’t know what it is.

This Pokemon is a trickster. This Pokemon is full of swag. And he’s using his children? brothers? sisters? as ROCKETS?? Do you see the Dorameshiya in the slots on his glider thing?

As soon as he evolved, he learned ドラゴンアロー (Dragon Arrow). That involves him launching a bombardment of his Dorameshiya children at the enemy Pokemon.

Come on. That’s badass.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Doraparuto is The Fifth Gigachad.

And you don’t even know about his STATS yet.

The stats are out of control.

Speed 200. Yes people, 200. At level 60. Unprecendented. Never before has a 200+ stat been seen. But he’s not just fast.

Attack 183. Very high. Special Attack 157. Still great. This makes him a dual-threat attacker. All shall fear him.

So, yes. Charisma? Swag? Absolutely. Power? Out of this world.

Confirmed Gigachad.

Welcome to the team.

Now, we just need one more to complete our team. We can have backups, sure. There doesn’t HAVE to be a limit on our Gigachad army. However, you can only have six Pokemon on the team at a time. That means that a true Gigachad gangster squad of hitters will have six at any time. And here we have five.

We have to find one more.

The sixth will be tricky, because they really do have to be a strategic choice. The current lineup of slammers is ballin’ out of control, but they do have one glaring weakness, probably two real weaknesses.

Pokemon strategists. Do you see?

If you are advanced, you may see hundreds of flaws in this plan. Well, I am not advanced. I’m basic. But I see two problems.

I simply have no way to defeat a Water-type.

That’s it. And any Fighting-type that knows a Dark move will give me a run for my money.

Can we have such a glaring weakness on our team, and truly have them be a gangster squad, if they can be so easily stymied by a measly Water-type? Is this acceptable? I don’t think so.

The sixth Gigachad therefore must be someone special. They must be an enemy of the Water-type.

I laid in bed last night, the question of The Sixth Gigachad occupying my mind. Yes, we need someone who can defeat our Water-type nemesis… yes, they have to be swaggin’, they must have unbridled raw power… Could it be an Electric-type? Is there a Grass-type yet untapped? Who can answer the call?

Swag and charisma, swag and charisma…

Could it be…

No, surely not…?

This one?

Tinkaton Lore // The Fourth Gigachad

HANNA BEE COFFEE

I am at a new coffee shop, next to a quaint, charming bookstore here in East Nashville. Not at the traditional and beloved Ugly Mugs, because they are closed for a staff summer party. That’s great—

Oh. I just saved a child’s shoe. It was a Croc.

Something tumbled off a mother and child standing in front my table. She didn’t notice. The child was just starting to realize it had lost something important, and was trying to figure out how to tell Mama, when I picked it up and brought it over to her.

“Ma’am,” I said, the dad realizing what’s happening.

(I’m watching them right now, they just took the shoes off, put them back on. I think this might be a reoccuring problem for them.)

(They just passed me and the dad said, with a twinkle in his eye, “Thanks for the recovery mission.”)

I had said, “Shoe down,” to the Mom. She smiled and said thanks, and put the shoe back on. I’m saying shoe, but it was a Croc. With a dinosaur on it.

I’m not at my usual cafe, as I was saying, my favorite, because of the staff party. That’s alright. I’ve been meaning to check this Hanna Bee Coffee out anyway.

My rating? It’s alright. It’s like all of the other cafes, bar Ugly Mugs.

Ugly Mugs has risen up and taken the crown for a few reasons. I can see now and am reflecting on exactly what sets it apart. If I had to break it down…

It’s a large space with a variety of seating. Tables, large wooden table, individual circular tables, square tables, a counter, another taller counter by the window, a couch, and there’s outdoor seating as well, in a nice yard space on the side.
Lots of light. Most of the store is windows. 3/4 of the walls of the store are windows, ceiling to floor. Awesome.
Staff. Staff are friendly and cool. That’s always a plus.
Community. There are all walks of people hanging out at Ugly Mugs. Remote workers, business people, friends, students. Everybody fits in.

So there ya go. The cafe that I’m in right now, as with many of these cafes, at least when I go seems to be mostly or entirely remote workers. (It makes sense with the times that I’m usually at these cafes, though. During normal 9-5 work hours.) The other people don’t stick around and hang out. The cafe I’m at right now is all remote workers, or students studying. Everyone has a laptop. Including me.

My Osaka Tully’s was a lot like Ugly Mugs. Large, lots of seating options, different crowd of all walks, entirely surrounded by windows, floor to ceiling, and a good staff. Bustling atmosphere.

Now I have a problem, which I can remedy easily, at this current time, which is to find an outlet. Eventually I will have to charge this laptop.

I like where I’m sitting right now, but no outlet…

TINKATON LORE

Tinkaton really is a gem. I can’t stop thinking about her.

I wanted to know more about her origins and her Japanese name, Dekanuchan. Truly, this Tinkaton is an interesting and captivating Pokemon. What is her story?

I feel there is a clue in her name, as there usually is. I’m especially wondering if her name holds a reference to her weapon. The deka is probably dekai, でかい meaning huge. And chan is just the cutesifying suffix that we put on things, like inu-chan, to make them cute. Puppy-chan. Now it’s cute.

It’s the nu part that I’m not sure about.

Dekanuchan’s middle form name is Nakanuchan. 中 Naka just meaning middle, probably. So, what’s the nu? Nuchan?

Kanuchan is the name for the first form of this Pokemon. Doesn’t that sound cute? Kanuchan. There was a girl in my English Club named Kano and I would call her Kano-chan. Kanuchan reminds me of that. So does that Ka mean anything? Or kanu?

There is one more clue about her that is significant — she is a Fairy type. That suggests that she is based off of a yokai, a Japanese fairy/spirit. There are thousands of yokai out there, and I don’t recognize her as any yokai I know. They’ve either made one up or are using an existing yokai as inspiration.

Alright. Time to get the TRUTH.

Okay. I just did extensive research (about 20 minutes worth). Here’s what I’ve dug up.

It appears that the Kanuchan/Dekanuchan Tinkaton line is not necessarily based off of any one character, and not a Japanese yokai, but rather is a production of brilliant creative synthesis. There was probably some inspiration drawn from from Iberian folktale creatures, especially the mouros, which would make sense as the Pokemon Violet/Scarlet world is based around the Iberian Peninsula.

Mouros may have been a primary source of inspiration.

From a Myth and Folklore Wiki: “The Mouros are a race of supernatural beings from Galician, Asturian, Leonese and Portuguese mythologies.”

(Galician? Asturian? Leonese? Do you know about those? I only know one of these words, Portuguese. Must be some deep lore.)

We can see from this picture, clearly depicting them in the act — they are small, and they are plundering. We know that Dekanuchan is also a fun of plundering, as her Pokedex entry said she loves to do.

They also have those tiny bodies and massive hands. I can see the resemblance.

Further supporting the theory of Mouros inspiration is that they were goldsmiths, and concerned with the extraction of gold from the earth. This seems to be part of Kanuchan aka Tinkatink’s character creation, as a “tinkerer” or “smith”, or simply a metal enjoyer. And you can see her hammer looks like it was forged from scrap. Perhaps she made it herself?

So, this all makes sense, and now we have the question of the ka in the name. Kanu, nakanu, and dekanu. I put “kanu” in my Japanese dictionary, and we have our answer.

That first kanji, 鍛, means forge, or temper. The second, 冶, means smithing. And Kanuchi is a reading of these two kanji, 鍛冶, and is a family name (so the dictionary says). The dictionary is also telling us that 鍛冶 is typically read as kaji (かじ).

So our beloved Tinkaton, Dekanuchan, is based off of an Iberian goblin blacksmith creature, and her name is a play on smithing and metalworking. There is actually some wordplay happening in her name, with kanu being a reference to kanuchi, and then nakanu being made of naka, meaning middle, and she is the middle evolutionary form, and kanu, the kanuchi element — and then for dekanu, again being deka as in dekai, giant, and still with that kanu as in kanuchi. Kanuchan itself almost sounds like Kanuchi. You can imagine a Japanese person out there with the family name Kanuchi that is already being called Kanuchan as a nickname.

There you have it, folks.

This is the Tinkaton lore. As the kids say, that’s the tea.

(I have to reference this article, In-depth article of Tinkatink inspiration sources, because this good man did extensive research on Tinkaton’s possible inspirations and historal background. I could only handle about twenty minutes of Tinkaton origin research. This man must have spent hours on it. Thank you for hard work Aashish Victor, you good man.)

Man, isn’t this how life goes? This is exactly how life goes. I’m still at the coffee shop, and I needed that outlet. My laptop is now approaching critical outlet-needing time. I’ve had my eye on an open table with an outlet, a table that has remained open for the entire duration of me writing my Tinkaton lore story—but as I said, I liked the spot I’ve been in. I’ve been watching this open table, knowing that I will want to make a move over there eventually, but no one seems to be wanting to take it, it’s been available for the last hour, and THE MOMENT I STAND UP TO MOVE OVER THERE, a group of friends sits down and takes it.

Come on!!!!!!!!!

How classic. I knew that would happen, too. I knew it.

This post is surely long enough already. I’m kind of stalling on anything I’m really supposed to be doing, like reviewing my Japan memoir one final time and making the last edits, before trying to send it to some people and get it published. I’m stalling on that. I don’t know why — I have a mental block.

I’m also in limbo about a potential job. It’s a weird place to be. I’m sitting in-between projects, in-between jobs, in a limbo state. I would prefer not to be, I’ll tell you that.

And, it’s raining.

(My limbo has been somewhat resolved. Official interview incoming.)

It finally rained today, after fifteen days of blazing sun.

I feel like a real farmer now, because I had been praying for, hoping for rain, for my good plants that need it, need a deep soaking and watering, my seedlings and juvenile sunflowers and zinneas.

This morning, sitting outside in front of the house and enjoying our coffee, as is our household tradition, Parker tells me that it will rain today and tomorrow. Today, 5mm, tomorrow 15. Well, we got the rain. Sweet, sweet rain!

And we got more than 5mm. Unless it takes a ton of rain to get even 5mm, I think we got more than that. That’s good. We needed it.

It has been drought conditions here in the last two weeks. Scorched earth. People’s Hydrangeas are going crispy and wilting. I seem them all around the neighborhood. I read that Hydrangeas need a lot of water. They are not native. (Well, four strains of them are.) I think the main varieties that we are using are not native to the US. I only see the same one or two types of Hydrangeas in the neighborhood. They have all been suffering in this drought.

THE FOURTH GIGACHAD

Now I will tell you about The Fourth Gigachad.

Tinkaton was the third Gigachad. On my team of serious ballers, of total Gigachads, Tinkaton was the third true boss to earn a lasting spot on the team. Tinkaton is not going anywhere, with her sass and power, and giant 100 kilogram hammer. That left us with three more spots on the roster. So yesterday evening, after writing up for you about Tinkaton, and going about my other life business, I found myself laying on my couch, and thinking.

Thinking hard.

Who will be the fourth Gigachad?

We found them.

Before I reveal to you who has next stood out from the pack and earned their spot on this team of true swaglords, I will tell you some of the failure stories. There have been quite a few failures.

It takes a lot to make it on this squad — to be an absolute Gigachad. I thought carefully about what exactly it takes. What do the success stories have in common? Why did Tinkaton rise up? Weavile, the ice-weasel? Garchomp, the sandshark?

I decided that it all boiled down to two essential characteristics.

Swag (charisma, personality).
Power

Swag but no power? Not good enough. Power but no swag? Can’t be on the team.

Here is the roster so far. Feast your eyes on these embodiments of Swag and Power.

Before I landed even on these three, there were many investigations.

I had very high hopes for this guy.

I spotted him rolling around in the desert, rolling his ball of mud (I thought it was poo, of course, as he resembles a dung beetle). It was a beautiful sight.

Cute and charismatic, and he was actually strong, for a tiny little dung beetle. He had one evolution, which I figured would be a Ground type, which at the time I needed. In my mind he was just going to become a larger, more badass dung beetle. Possibly with armor, rolling a spiked ball, anything like that. Maybe he would become something like Heracross, with a big horn and a powerful rolling ball.

I had much hope for this dung beetle Pokemon. He showed a lot of promise. I worked hard to evolve him, running around in a field for 1000 steps, having him roll his little ball around for about ten minutes, before he was ready to unleash his true power. Well, he finally was evolving, and I was excited to see what kind of a Gigachad beast he would become.

Imagine my shock and horror, when THIS is what came out.

Excuse me??? What the hell? A Psychic type??? A Scarab beetle???

You might think it’s cute. That first picture makes it look cuter than it is. It game it does not have a cute little face like that. It’s just floating in there, rolling its giant magic pink orb around in the air. It’s stupid. Not badass. Not an armored wrecking ball roller. A floating magic scarab Psychic beetle? Come on.

I was horribly disappointed.

I tried out quite a few other hitters, including this giraffe.

What an incredible Pokemon. Rikikirin. Rikikirin is huge, towering over most other tiny Pokemans.

Rikikirin is awesome, has some personality, definitely. But Rikikirin is too slow. Too slow. Take a hit, get smacked, good game. We just can’t have that.

Unfortunately, it was the same with my shiny green teddy bear.

Look at this guy. He LOOKS like a Gigachad. Yes he does.

This Pokemon has the air of a gangster. He is clearly up to no good. You don’t want to mess with him; he’s taking no nonsense. And mine was shiny. Very rare. (That’s why he’s green, he’s usually brown.) My Ringuma is the only shiny Pokemon I’ve ever had, because they’re so rare. And yet…

This Gigachad contender went the same way as the Rikikirin. Poor Ringuma was TOO SLOW and TOO WEAK.

Sad!

Here’s the deal. If you’re going to be slow, you have to take a hit. You have to be able to get smacked, and then turn around, say “Who threw that piece of paper at me????” menacingly, laugh and then clobber whoever smacked you. That’s how it has to be. You have to be able 1. Take the hit and 2. Knock them out.

At least, you have to be able to knock them out. If you can take 20 hits, you can take your time in knocking them out, fine. But if you can’t handle getting beat up, then you at least need to turn around and obliterate your opponent in a single strike, after letting them whoop on you.

Well, Ringuma couldn’t do that. He couldn’t take it and could just barely dish it out. Rikikirin at least would do serious damage. It could shoot two lazer beams from its eyes. That’s powerful.

(I just did some research — apparently this giraffe is a powerful Pokemon in competitive. Rikikirin may have some untapped potential, it’s true.)

Now, I did have another top contender, that was extremely powerful, and majestic. This Pokemon was a go-to of mine for a long time.

It’s a White Ermine. How amazing is that? This is モスノウ, Mosunou. Like, Moth Snow.

The only real problem with Mosunou was that it I got bored with it. It was too strong. It could hardly ever be killed. It was an absolute beast. It one shot everything. How incredible. But… where’s the charisma? Where’s the personality?

Not enough charisma. Mosunou could possibly make a reappearance, except it has been replaced as an Ice-type by the significantly more charismatic Manyuura. (Weavile.)

マニューラ. Sorry, Mosunou.

Manyuura aka Weavile is actually a legitmate gangster. It’s Pokedex entry:

“They travel in groups of four or five, leaving signs for one another on trees and rocks. They bring down their prey with coordinated attacks.”

A pack animal. That’s gangster.

So, who is the fourth Gigachad? You want to know.

I was on the couch, racking my brain. Who has what it takes to be a Gigachad? Who has potential? Thinking, thinking…

And then, Parker’s words hit me.

I had been telling him about my team, keeping him in the loop. He knew about Tinkaton’s glory and beauty. He was aware of my hope and faith in the pathetic weakling dolphin Pokemon. He knew of my disappointment in Rotom, of my anger and betrayal by the Psychic scarab dung beetle.

Parker had been following my progress and giving me answers to Pokemon questions that I didn’t want to look up myself, because I didn’t want spoilers. And so, he knew that there had been a Pokemon that I liked from early on, that I had a good feeling about, and it was this’un.

This is カルボウ. Karubou. In English, Charcadet.

Now, this little guy has some charisma.

I was immediately attracted to this Pokemon, for obvious reasons. Fire? Awesome. A knight? Incredible. We love Don Quixote. We love knights. Knights are cool. Flaming knights? Even better. And if the first form is this cool, well then how about the second? There was no way that this Pokemon did not evolve into something amazing, so thought I. I kept him in my party, I trained him, I fought with him… (I should say her, because mine was a girl.)

What happened with my little Karubou was this: I simply forgot about her. Parker’s research revealed that Charcadet needed a special item to evolve, and you couldn’t get it until later in the game, and I tried to get it, but it was too convoluted, and long story short, it was too long before I could evolve this swag little gangsteress, and I couldn’t keep it around, because unfortunately, it was so, incredibly weak. Unusably weak.

I had put her away, stored her in the bank, until another day—and I had all but forgotten about Karubou, until I was lamenting my struggles on finding the coolest, most Gigachad Pokemon for my team, and Parker then hit me with, “What about that one Pokemon? The teacup Pokemon.” (Because you had to defeat teacup Pokemon to get the shards to trade for the item to use on this guy to make it evolve… Convoluted, I know.)

Long story short, people, this is the story of The Fourth Gigachad.

I remembered my little Karubou, I now had the teacup shards, I went and hunted down the stranger in Pikke town, got the special item, the cursed armor, Noroiyoroi,ノロウイヨロイ. I gave it to my little fire knight child, and held my breath.

Now, ladies and gentlemen — here is the reveal you’ve been waiting for.

Behold; The Fourth Gigachad.

Come on!!!!! Come the hell on!!!!!!!!

Two swords???? NO hands??? Blue flame????? Ferocious look in eye????? A ghost??????

When my Karubou evolved into this baby, Soubureizu,ソウブレイズ, in English Ceruledge, I have to tell you.

I audibly gasped. I jumped up off the couch.

I’m serious.

Come on y’all. This is a Gigachad right here.

Visually, aesthetically, I could tell that this was an absolute top contender for being on the gangster squad. But there is another test — it’s not all about looks. Ringuma failed that test.

Soubureizu had to prove itself on the field of battle.

I had high hopes, and it turned out, yeah. She’s actually strong.

I mean, if you have two swords instead of hands, and your head and eyes are on fire, and you’re a ghost, you should be strong, right? How could you be weak? It simply wouldn’t make any sense. And that is true for Ceruledge.

Soubureizu is a true hitter. And her typing is perfect, a Ghost/Fire-type. What about the story? What does the Pokedex tell us about this mysterious anime-character-esque killer?

“An old set of armor steeped in grudges caused this Pokémon’s evolution. Ceruledge cuts its enemies to pieces without mercy.”

There you go. A flaming ghost knight with swords for hands, cutting her enemies to pieces mercilessly.

Welcome to the team, fourth Gigachad.

We wonder — who will be next? Competition is fierce. Only two spots left.

Could it be… this guy?

Investigations are ongoing. Stay tuned.

There’s A New Farmer In Town // New Favorite Pokemon

I decided to sit at the long wooden table today, at Ugly Mugs. I haven’t sat there in a long time. Today, I wanted to. I’m feeling social and active. A couple sat down next to me and started chatting. Right from the get-go, she wanted to talk to me. The lady said, “Hi,” catching my eye. I said “hi”. Then she said, “We aren’t disturbing you, are we?” Or, actually, she said, “Should we go somewhere else? Are we bothering you?” I said, “No, not at all!” This was the truth. They were not bothering me of course.

Well, two of their friends showed up, and they were very chatty, and I had the sneaking feeling that more of them would be on the way. They were now taking over the table, mostly they had claimed the table. There was still a little space for me. But then, just a few minutes later, more of the party arrived, and I realized, they needed this table, and the right thing for me to do was to give it over to them. I was not going to deny them what they needed, what was the inevitable course of reality. I said, “I’m going to give you guys the table,” and they laughed, and I said, “I had a feeling there were more of you coming,” and the chatty lady said, “Are you sure, you can stay if you want!” And they said, “But he probably has work to do!” I said, “Oh yes, I have a lot of work to do….!” Hiding my screen from them, which would have shown them copious tabs of Pokemon investigations. Yes, a lot of work to do.

I have resumed my morning routine of waking up at the crack of dawn and going to the coffee shop. It took a few days to get back into it. Last night was a struggle, and I could not fall asleep for the life of me, even though I was tired during the day, at the end of it. I was ready for bed. Why does that happen? You’re ready for bed, you lay down, thinking, alright, time for sleepytime, and then, suddenly you’re seized with incredible energy, thoughts moving a mile a minute, your creative genius is exploding, and you want to do a hundred things at once. Everything except sleep, which is what you came there to do. Well, that was happening again last night, and as I am doing the no artificial light thing still, what could I do? I didn’t want to read.

I listened to records. I listened to most of my Superheaven record, Jar. My favorite thing about Superheaven is the chords they use. They have awesome chords. 90% of my love of Superheaven comes purely from loving the chords, and the guitar tone. It really is that simple. I then put on Holiday by Madonna, a great song, but you realize, not heavy at all. Light and dancy. And then, I knew what I wanted to hear – some Tame Impala. Brand New Person, Same Old Mistakes, or whatever that song is called, that is one of my favorite songs of all time. Whenever I hear that song, and I’ve heard it a thousand times, I still stop and listen. It’s a perfect song. It captures me completely. It hits so hard. It’s a song that comes on at cafes sometimes, always the best song that can possibly come on in a cafe. There is something about that song, probably many things, that just grab hold of your ear and your brain and don’t let go. From the absolute beginning of the song, it catches you. Slow, mysterious, groovy. Unlike most things that are being played on a cafe radio.

I can keep going here, I am extremely caffienated. What now?

I think this is the part where I tell you about my new favorite Pokemon.

If you don’t care about Pokemon at all, stay with me. You are still going to love this. Highly probable.

Pokemon can evolve. You knew that, right? Please tell me you knew that.

This is the first version of a Pokemon I’ve found in Pokemon Violet.

Do you see this thing? It’s called Kanuchan in Japanese, or Tinkatink in English. Yes, Tinkatink.

This is how it looks in the game. It looks miserable. What is it holding? Is that a beer bottle? What is this little thing? I first found this Pokemon and thought it was weird, and thought maybe it could be cool, but it was incredibly weak. I really don’t have a lot of time for weak Pokemon, I never have. They have to have a lot of promise, like they have to seem like they will evolve into an enormous powerful dragon-beast, or shark or something. This little pink twinkletoes was not promising, even though cute and charismatic. I had to pass.

Then, much later, I encountered the second version.

Yes everyone, meet Tinkatuff. She’s tough now. She’s scrappier. Her chunky iron beer bottle has now become some kind of exotic club. That’s good. But she’s still tiny.

She’s still weak. How can she have a place on my team of Gigachads? (Including the likes of such greatness as マニューラ and ガブリアス.)

Gaburias and Manyuura (Garchomp and Weavile), certified Gigachads

I could not imagine having her on my team of real gangsters, even if I wanted her around. For her pink charm and her Fairy typing. Every slot is valuable on a team of serious gangsters. You see that we have a dragonic sandshark and a dark weasel killer. Small pink fairy child with club still does not seem like she will make the cut, cute as she is. So, I still wrote this Pokemon off.

However, something happened.

This is a redemption story. This is the story of the ugly duckling, people.

I was on the mountain with the Psychic gym town, on the plains of the mountain. I found Tinkatuff, in Japanese Nakanuchan, in the ruins at night, with Bronzor the giant floating bell with eyes, and I was at that time running tryouts for my team of Gigachads. I was having another round of tryouts, and I was seeing who were the real beasts, and who I wanted on this team of hitters, absolute slayers, and I thought, let me evolve this Tinkatuff. Let me see what this Tinkatuff is all about. I will give her a chance.

Well, ladies and gentlemen. You will not believe your eyes. It is the greatest glowup of the 21st century. We are still early in the century, but I don’t know if this glowup can be beat.

IT’S TINKATON.

デカヌチャン!!!!!!!

How enormous her hammer is! And look at her hands! Massive paws, to hold that beastly hammer! Who would have thought that measly hump of iron would ever become a thousand-kilo slammer????

I never would have expected it. Tinkaton, she glowed up. And she immediately learned a move called デカハンマー, Dekahanmaa, which I took to mean, Giant Hammer, and I surmised that it might possibly be a move where she slams something with her newly acquired, enormous thousand-kilo hammer.

When I first unleashed my new Dekanuchan’s Gigaton Hammer move on a poor, unsuspecting wild Pokemon, I was extremely hopeful that it was in fact going to be a giant hammer attack. Imagine how pleased and enthused I was to see it was exactly that.

Gigaton Hammer

I’m including the above picture because I want you to see just exactly how ferocious this Tinkaton is. Before she even begins her attack, she first unleashes a massive wave of power and energy — she opens her mouth and screams, before charging forward, leaping into the air, raising the hammer and slamming it down, literally obliterating her enemy. It was everything I wanted to see.

I have to tell you, in my Tinkaton excitement I did some exaggerating. I lied to you. Her hammer is not actually 1000 kilograms; it’s 100 kilograms, that is about 220 pounds, and we know this because the game tells us so. From Dekanuchan’s Pokedex entry:

“The hammer tops 220 pounds, yet it gets swung around easily by Tinkaton as it steals whatever it pleases and carries its plunder back home.”

And now, we learn a very interesting fact about Tinkaton here that I did not know, which further enhances her charm and character, which is already outstanding. She is a THIEF.

So small, yet so powerful. And a conniving thief, raiding and plundering? Dekanuchan earned a top spot on my team of Gigachad gangsters.

Who will be next to take a top spot? We really have three slots left for true gangsters. I have been putting Pokemon through the workouts and trials.

I have a lot of eggs in this guy’s basket.

Dorameshya, AKA Dreepy.

Don’t let me down, buddy.

I titled this “There’s A New Farmer In Town” because I have been gradually becoming more obsessed with planting, farming, and gardening. I couldn’t sleep last night, I had too much physical energy, and you know what I decided to do with it? I went out in the yard and dug up my grass.

I had to do it. I have seeds to get down. Butterfly Milkweed. And it was actually a great time to tear up the lawn, at 11 pm at night, because it was cool. It was nice to able to do some yard work without feeling like I’m dying in the sun. That was awesome.

Butterfly Milkweed (*Asclepias tuberosa*)

A neighbor across the street was coming home and I happened to see them turning their head 180 degrees around to watch me as I dug in my yard, bathed in the glare of the copious amount of artificial light in the street outside of my house, shovel in the hand. He was certainly wondering what the hell I was up to. I imagine that if you ever see someone digging with a shovel at night, you’re going to have some suspicion about that. Who can be up to any good with a shovel at midnight?

A 29-year old man, laying in bed with thoughts of Dekanuchan and gardening. Alpha male? Probably not.

Quack Hits

I meant to say, Quick Hits.

“But what could it do, if any danger came?” Alice asked.

“It could bark,” said the Rose.

From Through The Looking-Glass, 1871, Lewis Carroll

Quick hits:

We write for joy. We write for fun. That’s why we write, ultimately. It is for joy.

Sometimes to convey information. Sometimes to persuade. But the best writing is that which comes from an act of love. It is play. That’s the best. So says Stephen King.

I have sat down to do this and found that I don’t really want to do this. So it goes.

“So it goes.”

– Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut.

I went on a run today. A wild run. I ended up in the middle of the woods running on deer trails. I stopped one centimeter before running through an enormous spider web, complete with large, scary black spider in the middle, at face height. It was like meeting a tripwire. I stopped just in time. I felt out around the edge, not wanting to just destroy the poor beast’s hard work and livelihood, but having to pass through this way, being in dense woodland forest, and I felt around the edges of the web, the invisible space, to see if there was some way I could pass without entangling myself in threads. I did find a large patch of open space, and I contorted myself through it, hoping very much to not bring the spider down upon me. I then resumed my running.

I could not believe that I had absolutely no ticks on me after this wild run. Through long grass, for a mile or more, I had mud, some scratches, various other debris, but surely, thought I, there must be a tick or twenty on my body. And there were NONE. Moving too fast? Too much sweat? No ticks in that grass? I couldn’t believe it.

It’s good to run hard through the woods. Makes you feel alive. I ran through about twenty deer, ten different pairs of two or three deer, on that run.

Tragedy struck this morning. Or, it struck last night. I discovered the tragedy this morning. My sunflowers had been ravaged. They had been doing so great, too. Well, they were ravaged. Not even a trace of three of them, only craters left in the ground from where they had been savagely ripped from the earth. The second largest, uprooted and mangled, left a carcass on the soil. If sunflowers had blood, there would have been blood everywhere. The largest, my prize bonnet, or whatever people said in the old days, my prize pig, bit clean off from three inches up. Three measly leaves and a smidgen of stem left. Well, at least they gave me that. Can it rise from the ashes?

Mysteriously, the two that have made it out of my second planting were left untouched. Perhaps they are being saved for later? Allowed to fatten before the slaughter?

Who was the culprit? We will never know. I suspect a rogue deer that haunts our neighborhood.

I’ve seen her.

I have had a growing history of reading people things from books, offering personal heartfelt readings, generally when in the comfort of my abode. I have read or attempted to read many a story to my living mates. Two nights ago, at a party, before heading out into the night, we sat around in the living room, eight of us young modern American people, and my roommate Smosh said something that I will never forget. I remembered it just now, I was reflecting on the significance of this event just moments before I started to write this piece, because it was truly extraordinary, and has put him in my good graces forever. He said, in the midst of the revelry, the group now gathered around the couch and table, all conversing, he said to me: “You should read us some poetry.”

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it first. Smosh, you wonderful man. I ran the three steps from the living room into my bedroom and grabbed my book of Poems of Fun and Fancy. And I read the poems.

Some of them.

I first chose to go out on a limb and try a new one. That was as an experiment. But it was not a great success. Everyone (my sister) just wanted to hear A Letter To Evelyn Baring.

Smosh then said, “I thought you would read us a Japanese poem.”

I went and got my Japanese poems.

I read the first poem I came across, which happened to be from The Exile Of Godaigo, about an exiled emperor of Japan in the late 1200’s.

tsui ni kaku

shizumihatsubeki

mukui araba

ue naki mi to wa

nani umarekemu

If it is my fate

To terminate thus my days,

In the depths of ruin,

Why was I ever born

Sovereign supreme of men?

After only one week, possibly ten days of avoiding all artificial light bar fire in the evenings, my circadian rhythm has completely reset. I have woken up at the crack of dawn on nearly all of these days. And now, the sun goes down, and I am sleepy. I am still often having surges of energy and late night mental wanderings, but I resist the urge to indulge them. I think it takes some time to fully adjust. This morning I woke up at 5:30 am, and for the first time, I felt like I was waking up regularly, as in, I did not feel that I wanted to go back to bed.

Parker came into my room last night to show me something on his phone. He had been working on some art for his Spotify. I allowed him to show me, he said, in an attempt to persuade me to evaluate his art, “I’ll show you on the lowest light settings.” Well, to my fully adjusted nighttime eyes, that “lowest” setting was still blinding, and when he flashed that screen in my face, I immediately recoiled, and I felt my eyes rapidly contract in my head. It was like I had just looked into the sun. I felt like I had just been doused with cold water.

I talked to a girl at the barcade, the night of the party. It was towards the end of the night. I had gone over to the machine to play Q-Bert. I got the second highest score, that night. Someday I will claim the first.

There was a girl standing alone at Burgertime. She was pretty. I had the urge to talk to her. I walked over to the machine next to her, and said, “Are you winning?” She said, “Oh, I’m just waiting for my friends, they abandoned me.” I said, “Oh.” (Or something like that.) She said, “I don’t even know what this is,” gesturing to the game in front of her. I looked at the title, saw that it was Burgertime. I said, “It’s Burgertime!”

She said something about how her friends were always going outside to talk to the bouncer or something. I said, “What do you think they’re talking about?”

She thought for a moment.

“Drugs.”

I laughed. She said, something about how they’re always talking about a “plug”, and she put emphasis on that word, somewhat mockingly, lighthearted mocking. I think she rolled her eyes.

She then asked me, “Are you winning? Tonight?”

I said, “Eh. I’m not losing.”

She was really looking at me now.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

I could tell she meant where I was really from.

“Elkhart Indiana… Northern Indiana.”

I don’t remember if she had any real response to that or just acknowledged it.

(Actually, I remember. She asked what brought me to Nashville.)

“How about you?”

She was from Nashville. She said, “right down the street” and she made a gesture suggesting that she really was talking about right down the street.

I said, “You can tell I’m not from Nashville?”

She said, “Mhm.”

“How could you tell?”

“Your stature.”

That was not what I expected to hear. I didn’t really know what that even meant.

“My stature?”

“Yep. And the way you talk.”

I ain’t no southern boy. That’s for sure.

Somehow, then, for whatever reason she told me that she had broken up with her ex that night. I don’t remember why she was telling me that. It was pretty matter-of-fact. She didn’t seem too devastated about it. But I remember that she phrased it as, “My ex and I broke up tonight.”

I said, “You’re already calling him your ex?”

She nodded.

I thought that was interesting. Can you say, “My ex and I broke up?” Not really, right. Because you can’t break up with your ex. You’re not dating them anymore.

I didn’t go into that right then. I said, for some reason, I guess I just had the feeling, “Have you broken up before?”

She nodded.

This was about at the end of the conversation. I’m wondering why I didn’t offer any words of solace or comfort. She might have asked me right after that what brought me to Nashville, but that doesn’t seem like it would have been the follow-up question. I think that came earlier in the conversation. There wasn’t much more said though, before she said, “I’m so sorry, but I really have to go now, my friends are waiting for me. It was nice talking with you, though.”

And she touched my arm.

I said, “Go on!”

Not in a way that suggested I wanted her to go. But it was time for her to go.

Maybe I was supposed to say, “It was nice talking with you too.” I don’t think it mattered too much what I said, then.

I now had permission to go ham on Q-Bert.

I had an epic run. In the very first game, I lost two lives like they were… pieces of candy… that you don’t… want, on Halloween. (I want to come up with an original and unique simile here. I don’t have it.)

I lost my first two lives like they were tadpoles… in a pond. Because frogs have so many babies…. they’re disposable… do you know what I mean?

Oh my god.

I lost those first two lives, and then I was on the ropes. I had one life left. And somehow, on that one life, I ended up going so far. It was all I needed. I was rolling hot on that one life.

I was in the perfect place, mentally, for crushing Q-Bert. I was the right level of invested. I didn’t care too much. I wasn’t too drunk. I was just a little buzzed, a little desirous of doing my best. The alcohol was unlocking some Q-Bert skill in me.

Then, my sister came over. She started talking to me. Something happened. I got riled up, I got distracted. And I made my one, final life Q-Bert jump off the cliff.

What a tragic ending!

I watched as my Q-Bert fell into the abyss. There went my final life. And for the night, that was my attempt at the top score. I did no better than that.

Boys’ Club at Ugly Mugs

More freewriting. I’m giving you more freewriting. I’m giving me more freedom to freewrite.

I woke up today at 6 am. And I don’t feel terrible. That’s pretty good, except I did feel sleepy still, and I sat on the floor and meditated for a while, and then moved to the more comfortable place, the bed, and then I was feeling so peaceful and comfortable, and I just touched the edge of blissful sleep —

I forced myself to get back up again.

Why am I doing this? I ask myself as I get out of bed, throw on clothes, head to the coffee shop, Ugly Mugs. If I’m tired, why not sleep in? Why am I battling my sleep schedule like it owes me money? Why am I not just living my life freely and comfortably and doing whatever I want whenever I want it?

Parker, in his infinite wisdom, said the other night, “Why don’t you just use your energy when you have it and rest when you don’t?” That was the most profound thing I had ever heard in that moment, and I told him so, to which he said, “Isn’t it obvious?” That just made it all the more profound.

The coffee at Ugly Mugs is gas this morning. As in, it’s really good. It’s hitting me like gasoline in a tank. And it tastes great. Really good coffee.

This is the earliest I’ve ever made it here, by far. 7 am I was at the shop. I wanted to get something done, I wanted to get started on whatever it is that I’ll do, and I knew that the chances were much higher if I escaped my freezing cave, and made it out here, out into the world.

I wondered what would be going on here at 7 am, I really did. It’s a local neighborhood coffee shop. The day is full of remote workers, college students, friends meeting for a chit-chat, coworkers or acquaintances talking business. What would be happening at 7 am?

A shocking thing. As I stumbled in, there was a guy, my age, different vibe, shorts and sunglasses, sandals (I’m wearing full black with running shoes, black hoodie in July because my roommate blasts the AC in the house, and it keeps me safe from the mosquitoes anyway, that love to feast on my precious blood), and I knew that we were on track to be reaching the door at the exact same moment.

Sometimes in this situation, when my brain has accurately calculated that I am on a collision course with another human, I will slow down or speed up. But I didn’t feel like doing either of those things, and he didn’t either.

I could tell he knew that we were both going to reach this door at the same time. Well, I reached it just a second before he did, and I opened the door and held it open for him. And he said, “Oh, you go ahead,” and I said, with a grandiose, sweeping gesture, “No, after you,” to which he replied, with a small nod, “Thank you,” and walked through the door.

Now, that wasn’t awkward at all. Just two humans being polite to one another. That was nice.

I did end up then walking right past him to order, as he stopped to look at something on the wall.

That was some foreshadowing. The fact that I was holding the door for a MAN, then. As I took my first sip of coffee I surveyed the scene, scanning the crowd. Who were the 7 am folk on a Wednesday morning at Ugly Mugs? And I was shocked.

All men.

Yes, in a place where the crowd is at least HALF women, I’ve never noticed a ratio skewed one way or the other, this morning, Ugly Mugs was a total boys’ club.

There was (and still is) one group of four lads having a great time at the long slab of wood table. They seem to be discussing some business, wearing smart business casual attire. I just stole a glance at them. Then, you have two more gentleman having a conversation at a table behind them… There’s a bro in sunglasses sitting outside in the sun. There is a refined-looking gentleman with well-maintained hair, glasses, comfortably but tastefully dressed, reading something on his phone. Probably the news. He is giving major dad vibes.

There is a guy behind me doing remote work. He was typing up a storm when I sat down.

There were about four guys in the back of the room, that seemed to all have moved on already. There’s one guy left way back in that corner, who is with high probability working. That’s the workers’ corner.

Since my arrival, somehow it’s already 7:45, several ladyfolk have entered the store, one is walking in right now. But none have stayed.

Who will be the first to break the boys’ club?

Will it be this woman in a blue and white summer dress?

Holy s***. It is!

But wait a minute. She may just be taking a temporary seat as she waits for her coffee.

She’s going to pick it up now.

What happens next?

She’s put a lid on it. It’s in a plastic cup. She could take that thing right out the door.

She’s added some cream. We are all waiting on tenterhooks.

She’s taking a sip. She seems pleased.

And now?

Another sip.

And… she’s gone to a table in the back!

She’s sitting!!!!!!!!!!!!

Welcome to the club!!!!!!!!!!

(One minute later)

Oh my god. She just left.

She had just been waiting for a sandwich.

The boys’ club continues…

Han Jan

I love my morning coffee.

It’s 8:11 am. I’m still adjusting to my early wakeup times. You would think that my body would not wake itself up before it had had enough sleep. That it would just keep sleeping. There is no reason for me to get up so early if I don’t have to. My brain knows that.

The body responds to its own cues. That’s why I get up at 5:23 am yesterday, even if I wasn’t asleep until midnight. And today, 7:20 am.

I did better falling asleep last night, I think I was out before midnight, but there was a long period of undesired wakefulness. I had turned off the AC at some point, and it turned out that that was a mistake, as I was uncomfortably hot. It was 80 degrees in the house, if our thermostat is to be trusted, which I sometimes doubt. That was my excuse anyway, for being stuck in bed, awake, when I just wanted to enter the sweet dream world of sleep, so that I could get started on the next day.

The morning is a precious time. Special things happen in the morning. Yesterday morning I decided to try a new experiment. This morning I am thinking about a butterfly that I had raised, and a Go Pro, and a past love, and its sad end. (This is all one story.)

On another morning not too long ago, I began a story that I have finished, that I am supposed to be working on right now.

Does anyone else… do you wake up with songs in your head? I do. Almost every morning, I wake up “listening” to a song in my head.

It always seems random. Often the song comes deep out of left field. A song that I haven’t heard since middle school. Yesterday I think it was a Nickleback song, Far Away. Today it was Han Jan, by Peggy Gou.

Why? I haven’t been listening to these songs.

I want to be here for the mornings. If I sleep in too much, especially if I sleep in to a horrific hour like 10 am, I feel like I’ve committed a crime. But, I don’t know if I am exactly a morning person. It’s just that I know the morning is such a precious time, and magical things can happen.

I woke up at the crack of dawn for the first time in what seemed like years, probably a month ago. I couldn’t believe that I was awake. I didn’t know what to do. That’s what happens when you’re used to getting up late, and you wake up at 5 am. You’re early to the party by five hours. What the hell are you supposed to do now? You’ve got so much time on your hands.

That morning, I went outside, and sat in my yard. I was meditating. That was all I really wanted to do, then. About twenty minutes in, I heard some crunching sounds, on our gravel driveway. I didn’t think much of them, but I kept hearing them, getting closer, soft crunching, and I had the feeling that something was moving around on the driveway. I opened my eyes, and there, between my roommate’s black Nissan Altima, and the fence, was a small deer, staring at me.

I was shocked, of course. A deer, in our yard? What? There’s never been a deer in our neighborhood, let alone my yard. This is the city. We’re right off of Gallatin. What are you doing here?

It was the last thing I expected to see that morning, or ever, in our yard.

That morning, I also spied several neighborhood cats, sneaking around, in our yard right under our noses, living their secret cat lives. I felt like I was seeing a whole new world.

I think that the morning, like late night, is a liberating time. That might be the secret of the morning.

It’s time that at least I can feel like, it’s totally mine. I somehow have a free pass to do absolutely anything I want with this time. And so I can enjoy myself and live to the fullest, untethered by responsibilities or expectations. That’s great for the spirit, and for creativity.

These recent nights, I have spent in Harry Potter world, reading by candlelight. At 3 am, I exist in the wizarding world, I read about Snape’s past, I learn the secrets…

Morning is also the best time because you get to have your first cup of coffee for the day.

I was thinking about the butterfly that I had mentioned earlier, this morning, staring out of the window… I’m sure it’s on my mind because yesterday, I noticed that I had a green caterpillar, possibly mid-transformation into a cocoon or chrysalis, on my blue plastic tarp that I use to cover my bike in the yard. It seemed to have adhered itself to the plastic and was sluggish, hardly conscious. And if it does decide to settle down there, it kind of becomes my caterpillar, my cocoon or chrysalis, my project. I will have to watch over it.

I’m going to go check on it now…

And there you have it, folks.

Overnight it has become a chrysalis.

I will watch over you, my child!

500 Word Experiment and No Artificial Light

The 500 Word Experiment

I like the phrase freewrite.

I’ve been using that recently. In thinking about what I will be writing about. Often, most of the time I have something specific in mind, that I want to share. Even right now, there are several things that I am thinking about, that I would like to write about. And yet, I’ve noticed that when I just… freewrite, the writing… well, things come up that I wouldn’t have expected, sometimes, and the way I write about them is natural, as a flow of thought, and that’s often even more interesting than me just writing about a specific topic.

It’s good to just have a topic in mind, and something to write a whole piece around. There doesn’t have to be any specific way that you go about writing things for your blog, anyways. You still can do whatever you want.

I was having a good time trying to meet that 500 word cutoff, for a while. Did I even make it a week with that? It’s not my style. I’m simply too meandering and loquacious. I simply have too much to unload, in most cases, that I sit down at the computer, or with my pen and paper, and start going crazy. 500 words is a sneeze.

However, the 500 word experiment was very interesting. I hacked and slashed some of my pieces to death, to near death. I didn’t allow anything to die, and that’s why I ended up mostly being unable to reach the 500 word cutoff. There’s only so much you can say in 500 words. But, if you can say something in 500 words, but you’re saying the same thing in 700, or 1000, then you should really consider cutting that down, think carefully about those extra 300 or 500 words.

That’s how I felt about the experiment. I did feel that everything I posted benefitted from at least some degree of serious pruning, and often, even ruthless cutting helped the piece. But when pushing it to the limit, you see what is too much, when you’ve overcut and done damage, what can’t be cut away. Where to draw the line.

I really thought about Hemingway when writing like this, and editing in such a manner. I do use a lot of fluff. Even in that sentence, I realized it as I wrote it. I do use a lot of fluff. Now, do you see the fluff there? It immediately stands out. And I’m in the habit of using immediately as a filler word, as I just did again. Immediately can often be cut.

I just like to add words, and in conversation we do add a lot of words and use a lot of filler, and especially in a piece like what I’m writing now, a freewrite, where I’m writing as I’m thinking, that’s fine, even important. For the tone and voice. But there are cases where you don’t want that, and where it would be better not to have it. The point is that you are choosing to be terse, or fluffy, loose with your wordage and writing, intentionally. As Hemingway chose.

The fluff in that sentence was the do. Why do we need do in that sentence? We don’t need it. But if I were speaking, I would probably add the do, and say, “I do use a lot of fluff.”

How many words have we got here?

577, so far.

New Experiment: No (BAD) Artificial Light

The 500 word experiment was fun and useful. This is why we like to do experiments. They show you things. And, they are fun. Usually. I don’t know what experiment I’ve done that wasn’t fun.

I’m currently on a new one, that y’all don’t even know about yet, which is that I’m trying my best to avoid artificial light at night. I am shocked that it took me so long to get around to this one.

I’ve known that blue light was bad for the eyes, and screentime is a problem for the circadian rhythm, tricking your body into thinking it’s still daytime, throwing off your cortisol production. But I wasn’t taking it that seriously. Well, Rachel offhandedly made a comment about artificial light being a problem, the other week, and it stuck with me. It sat in my brain, it hit me at the right time. It was something I had been meaning to research.

I only had to read about three articles full of facts and data, to sufficiently shock and horrify me, and outrage me, and put me on the right and true path. I could share that data with you, possibly in another post. I’m freewriting, not writing an inspirational piece or anything here. You might not need all that data anyways, but data is what gets me to take action. Data, fact, reports, they are all what move me. And they are what convinced me of the bane on our existence that is artificial light.

Now, fire is also artificial light. I had to Google that after my first night by the candle. I spent the night thinking, “Is this artificial light?” Having an internal debate. The answer is yes, but it’s nothing like LED light, or light from screens. I am tempted to look some things up here — I won’t do it. But fire is low on the spectrum, the wavelengths are longer, and carry less energy. (Something like this.) It is not so intense on your eyes. I just read that firelight mimics sunlight, which is telling your brain that it’s time to wind down. So at least if you are burning a candle until 3 am, binging on Harry Potter and The Goblet Of Fire, your body and mind are basically already primed to go to bed whenever you decide that it’s best if you finally put the book down now, or you become so absolutely exhausted that you’re dropping the book on yourself or rereading the same page seven times in a row.

Candles are fun. We all know that, right? We are all in agreement of this fact. So, having more reasons to use candles is always great. I think that half of me is adhering to my no artificial light policy (I’m excluding candles from inclusion in my artificial light definition, here, because it’s really not a bad one) because it gives me an excuse to use candles.

It’s a good thing to be doing, a no artificial light (after sunset) policy, because it is like a soft ban on lots of bad things. Things that you aren’t supposed to be doing at night, that keep you up late. Phone, computer, gaming, TV. Even just getting up to shennanigans in your room, even reading, it will be easier to stay up later when you bask in your artificial light glow in your room, in your kitchen. However, when that sun goes down, FIRE UP THE CANDLES. It’s creepin’ time. There’s not much you can do then, or you have to really want it. You have to want it so badly that you’ll do it under conditions of severe low light, and possibly risk an injury, and experience frustration.

That’s how the reading has been. My candle barely casts enough light to illuminate the pages. It’s probably terrible for my eyes, having to squint so hard, but my eyes are already so terrible that at this point… they can get worse. I mean, if it comes to it, I’ll use a magnifying glass if I have to. We’ll cross that bridge when it comes. But this reading, you would be amazed to see all the various positions that I have come up with, the seatings and arrangements, the tactical candle placements, the ingenious schemes to angle the book so that it receives more light.

It took me three nights to come up with my second best idea, which was to place the candle in a drawer in my desk. I have an old wooden desk, and it sits right next to my bed. Reading from bed is more comfortable, especially at night, although I like to also sit at the desk and read. I have been starting at the desk, and then moving to the bed. Sometimes I’ll switch between them, and actually I have been doing that, to give my body a break from being stuck in a single position for too long. So, sitting at the desk could be tiring, as I have to prop the book up in my hands, on my elbows. That has to be done to ensure enough light hits the page.

The angle of the light is very important, and unfortunately most of my candle light is shooting straight up, and is wasted. So, wherever my book is in relation to the candle, it must be above the candle. I have to get that light. That’s why, after two nights, my genius was not to raise the book up, but to lower the candle, by putting it in an open drawer. That makes it lower than the surface of the desk, putting it on the right level for me and my book. It also allowed me to read from the bed, while sitting propped up against the pillows, because my bed height is slightly lower than the desk height.

I thought that this was a good lesson in how time can reveal solutions and solve your problems. You do not immediately see all the improvements, you do not strike on all the best methods at once. You inevitably get tired of the problem, you get so tired of the problem, and you constantly scheme ways to solve it, until you do.

It took me about five nights before I found the best, most comfortable solution yet. It was also, however, the most fraught with risk, as I found out. By placing the candle at the side of my hip, directly on my bed with me in my bed, I was able to have the light so close, and receive a majority of the beaming photons, wonderfully lighting up the pages of my book. They would shoot right up into the book, that I could hold in a natural position, right on my lap, as I lay there in the bed, and I could see every word, on both pages, clearly, from a perfectly comfortable position. How wonderful!

Yet, the problem as you can imagine, is that I am laying down, sharing my bed with a precariously placed flame, and a basin of hot, liquid wax.

It was some night where I was reading the Order of the Phoenix, deep into the trials and tribulations, and I just wanted it to be over, I wanted to get through it, but the book was defeating me, all 900-something pages of it. This was no Chamber of Secrets, this was no Prisoner of Azkaban. I was pushing it up to my limit, playing with fire, literally (yes I had to write that)…! And I was falling asleep at the wheel, and the third or fourth time I nodded off on the page, I was jolted awake, feeling my side suddenly become wet and hot, and saw that the candle flame was now sideways, and the hot wax was spilling out everywhere. That’ll wake you up.

You know what? I just remembered. I wasn’t falling asleep. I remember that, I was just deeply engrossed, and forgot about the candle, and adjusted myself. I know I wasn’t falling asleep, because I remember what I did afterward: I took off my pajama pants, now covered in hot wax, I changed my undies (had a little hot wax on ’em too), and then I promptly sat down at my desk and kept reading. When I went back to bed, I checked to see if the wax had cooled, and it had. There was a hard, waxy patch now on the side of my comforter and bedsheet.

That patch lasted for about five days, by the way. I just washed the sheets today.

One week of no artificial light: Results

I was just tempted to let that be the last line, but I should tell you about the big reason to avoid bad artificial light, which is quality of sleep. And I have found that since I’ve started doing this no artificial light thing, I have really been getting great sleep, and I have been enjoying these evening, reading-by-candlelight sessions. It’s got me waking up at the crack of dawn again. I find that even if I stay up late, as I have been, because I have been gripped by a sickness of Harry Potter fever, it’s not as punishing to stay up reading by candlelight, than by browsing the internet on the laptop, watching YouTube or whatever it is that I’m doing with that thing.

It also removes all temptation, and pressure. Maybe I’m pressured to take care of some business? Do it tomorrow. Have to message someone? Nope. Check email, bank accounts, Google something that I absolutely need to get to the bottom of, such as “Is fire artificial light?” It can wait. (It took all of my self-control not to look this one up, that first candlelit night.)

It makes it easier to say no to all of these things because of the clear rule. When the goes down, artificial light is BANNED. That’s it. Simple.

I would recommend anyone to try this out.

(Shoutout to Parker for discovering the unscented $1.99 candles hidden on the very bottom rack in the candle aisle at Kroger, that comes with no plastic except the tiny sticker, that looks exactly like a large glass of milk, and makes this foray into candlelight living much more economically bearable.)

“Rest Day” // Japanese Pokemon

The Celebration That Wasn’t

Yesterday was supposed to be a rest day, and it kind of was. But I “worked”. I dog sat. It wasn’t a full rest day.

Today I woke up and felt like, yes, today needs to be a rest day. And today is actually becoming a rest day. Even me writing this, we’ll call it a restful thing, because I’m just having fun with it. There’s no expectation. This is purely for enjoyment. There’s a big difference, between having to do something out of obligation or requirement, versus just for fun. And this writing here is just for fun.

Two days ago I finished the first draft of a story idea that I had hatched. I carried it all the way to completion and that took about ten days. Ten days of tenacity, of sticking to it, of staying on it, and not letting it escape me, but getting through the whole thing, through the ups and downs, the struggle and joy. When I finished the draft two days ago, I felt euphoric, and yet, lost. It had consumed me and stayed in my mind for ten whole days. I couldn’t believe that much time had actually passed. For ten days I contemplated the story and worked on it, held it in my mind, stayed tethered to that fantasy world. And when I was done, I felt strange. It was over. Except, it wasn’t over, and it’s not over. That was just the first part. But that’s probably the hardest part, I feel. Who knows. I’m new to all of this.

It’s the longest story I’ve ever written, possibly ever. Probably ever. And I still haven’t recovered from the writing of it yet, I think.

I knew that the first thing I had to do upon finishing was celebrate. I couldn’t move on to anything else without celebrating the accomplishment. Even from a work perspective, if you are trying to accomplish more, you have to celebrate. It’s part of the job, it’s a necessary thing.

I racked my brain on what to do for my celebration. I tried to walk through the great suburban desert of East Nashville to go to Woodland Wine Merchant and buy a bottle of wine, to crack open with my lads tonight, but I only made it halfway through the great suburban desert before dying in the sun and throwing in the towel. I thought about going to Waffle House or getting some donuts at East Park Donut, but I didn’t really to spend money on that. I wanted to have an experience, and I knew that I had wanted to go swimming. I keep thinking about surfing. I guess I miss surfing, and I miss swimming, and I really want to do it again. So, I decided I would go swimming, even though it meant work, because I had to figure out where I would go, and drive there, which I really didn’t want to do. But I had to celebrate, and it was all I could think of.

I found that Percy Priest Lake seemed to be the closest place to me that I could swim in the wild. In freshwater. I had to drive on the highway…. blah blah blah. Long story short, the highway was a nightmare, the “beach” was a strip of grass next to the highway, covered in trash, there was a homeless guy there with swollen, rotting elephantitis ankles, the water was scummy, and made my eyes sting, and yet I did enjoying frolicking in the water like an otter. It was exactly the feeling I was looking for. Then I returned on the nightmare highway, and had angry visions of bombing everyone on the highway, and of having a giant plow affixed to the front of my car that would allow me to drive through the highway unimpeded and plow everyone out of my way. I was stuck in bumper to bumper traffic in the 90 degree July sun and moved 0.2 miles in 10 minutes. Not a good feeling.

Climbing Conquest

So, I still haven’t recovered, and still need to rest, before entering work mode again. I did go climbing at the gym, and if you had read my recent post “Perseverance”, I talk about my “nemesis” climb, the V1-3 that was stopping me from becoming a V2-4 man. Well, I walked into the gym yesterday with Parker, and I had actually forgotten about that climb for a minute, as I was really just there to have fun, and chill, but my man Ryan, a #1 One Piece fan, and a chill high school kid, he told me when I walked in, “Bro you gotta get that climb today, they’re taking it down soon!” And I was like.. Oh, god dammit. The pressure is on. Great. I was supposed to be here for fun.

You know what happened? I was fully charged, and I was strong, and I did some warmups, and then Ryan came out from the behind the counter, and Parker said, “Well, are you gonna do it now? Ryan’s here to watch.” And I said okay. And I walked up to the wall, and I screamed, “THIS ONE’S FOR RYAN!!!!!” And I took that sucker down. It was euphoric. I laid on the ground after the conquest, not moving, eyes closed, basking in the glow of victory. Parker gave me knucks, and Ryan clapped, and then he said, “Now you have to find another project-” But I cut him off, and said, “CHILL. Ryan, chill!!!!” I had just beaten this climb. I didn’t need another project (new challenging climb to be working on) just yet. Chill, bro. Let me savor this.

Well, today, it’s a million degrees, and I was not going to try and go swimming again. Nope. I’m not going anywhere, and not driving on the Nashville highway ever again in my life if I can help it. So.. what else could I do for my rest day?

When I was back in Ozu Machi, way back when, in the depths of the pandemic, when we were all bound to the home and desperate for things to do… I bought a 3DS and got Ultra Moon, in Japanese, and played through the whole thing. I hadn’t played Pokemon for like, ten years, so I had no idea what they had been cooking up, but I knew they had been cooking. I remember that time fondly, exploring the new world of Pokemon, and learning so much Japanese I thought my head would explode. These days, I’ve been feeling a pull to Japanese again, and I’ve been thinking about that playthrough, and so as a treat, and for my rest days, I thought I would try to recreate the magic.

After debating on which new Pokemon game I would buy, I ended up settling on Pokemon Violet, for the Switch, an open world Pokemon game from 2022. And now, if you can stand it, here’s what I want to share with you.

Return To Japanese

Note: I think that even if you are not a Japanese language learner you might just be interested to see some of my notes, and a breakdown of some recent Japanese study. If you are not, this part might not be so interesting for you.

I played for about three hours between yesterday and today, and I haven’t even made it to the first town. Parker was watching my slow, crawling progress, as I sat there with my notebook, scribbling my 20th Japanese study note, and he said, “People would love to see this.” I think I had played for over an hour before I even caught my first Pokemon, which is something you can do, if you skip the dialouge and get straight to business, in about ten minutes.

When it comes to studying language, Pokemon is a great mix of everything. Right out of the gate, we had the sensei speaking in keigo (honorific, polite Japanese), especially when talking with the main character’s mom (called in game, ママ, Mama), modeling a real conversation between a Mama-san and her daughter’s school’s sensei.. you have the kids jabbering casually, and then you have the instructive Japanese of the in-game instructions. Between game prompts, in-game signboards, character dialogue, etc… there’s a lot of variety in the Japanese being used. There’s a wide range of characters of all ages and backgrounds as well, and they all have different styles of speaking, so you can see what language is used by an old fisherman, an honorable sensei, a Mama-san, or a young bug catcher child, or an insolent breakdancer gangster lackey, a mob boss, a scientific genius..

Here are some of the snippets of Japanese I wrote down in my notebook today. Let’s break them down. Just for fun.

ご近所同士仲良くしよう！

The word I was wondering about was 同士, and in the context of 近所同士, which is something like neighborhood companion. This is probably a phrase that Japanese use, and is used for members of the neighborhood. Your neighbor friend was saying this to you in the game.

凄腕トレーナーなんですよ

This word is すごうで. I thought it was a more polite way to use 凄い, and actually it’s using the same kanji 凄腕、凄い.. So I was on to something there. 腕 is arm. So it’s saying “great arm”, literally. The dictionary says that 凄腕 means “1. remarkable ability, brilliant technique or 2.virtuoso, resourceful person”. It’s a compliment to someone’s ability. I like this word.

交流を深めてください

交流を深める seems to be a set phrase. It’s saying something like, “deepen our exchange” or “grow together in our relationship”.. Kind of a thing.

ポケモン勝負より放題

I wrote this down because I couldn’t remember at the time what 放題 was. It’s houdai, unlimited, as much as possible. Like 飲み放題, “all you can drink”. So this is “Let’s battle as much as possible.” I might need the whole sentence to perfectly translate it or to graph the entire meaning because I am a little confused about the より here, which seems to be in this case saying “less than”.

実りある勝負をしよう！

I had never seen the 実りある part here. Not hard to guess what this means. I take this to mean “fruitful”, so, “Let’s have a fruitful battle!” 実 is fruit.

勝負をしかける。

Noting that しかける is a verb used with 勝負. This sentence just means “To start a battle.”

Well.. what I have taken on here is unfeasable. I have about forty more notes in book, just from today.

I’ll do a few more. It’s good review for me, at least…!

へえー！きみやるね！

I was just suprised at this sentence. It’s so basic. The girl I had just beaten in a battle said this, which basically just means “you can do it!” as in, “You can fight!” That’s what I took it to mean. Natural English translation of this sentence might be: “Damn girl! You can really fight!”

Hermoine, Crookshanks, And Katakana

I was mysteriously drawn to choosing a young black girl as my protagonist in the game. I named my girl Hermione, trying to write that in Katakana (this took me about five minutes of debating and saying aloud how I thought a Japanese person would write it), and settled with ハーマィオニ. This turned out to be very close to correct, but not quite. The official Japanese translation of Hermione is ハーマイオ二ー。And then after naming my character ハーマィオニ, one of the starter Pokemon was a cat, and extremely cute, so I had to pick that.. because Crookshanks. (Hermione’s cat in Harry Potter world.) I couldn’t name my cat Pokemon Crookshanks though, because I was limited to 6 Japanese characters when naming in the game, which pissed me off. What the hell? 6 characters??????

Crookshanks in Katakana is a nightmare. I have to attempt writing it now, for you. For the blog.

クルックシャンクス.

I guess that wasn’t so bad.

But was it right?

Internet says: クルックシャンクス

Yatta!!!!!!!!

I do not know how much you are enjoying reading me thinking about Japanese and getting an insight into my Japanese study world, or if you are just confused. I imagine it would be interesting just to see some snippets of Japanese and look into the world of Japanese language. Japanese is really a fun and interesting language. (Profound statement.)

Chat GPT Sensei

疲れておいでですよ

This was interesting because of the おいで part, which seemed to me a kind of grammar conjugation going off of 疲れておく (spoiler: not true, it’s actually a form of 来る), but I don’t think I’ve ever encountered it. The おいで, and then adding です at the end, which is a formal sentence finisher. This sentence is keigo (honorific Japanese) I think, which has interesting and lengthier conjugations. That’s my guess here.

This one actually is a puzzler. So let’s ask our master translator, Chat GPT.

(For all y’all who don’t already know about the power of Chat GPT.. you’re about to see it. I’m bouncing around here in this post. It’s my rest day, alright? Stream of consciousness. Below I have pasted the entire result of me asking: “Can you help with this sentence? I’m wondering about the conjugation.” to Chat GPT.)

(Chat GPT answer)

Yes, I can help with that! The sentence: 疲れておいでですよ is a polite and somewhat gentle expression in Japanese, but the conjugation is slightly unusual and worth unpacking.

Breakdown:

疲れて = the て-form of 疲れる (to be tired)
おいで = an honorific or polite imperative form of 来る (to come), but in this context, it is functioning differently
です = polite copula
よ = sentence-ending particle for emphasis or assertion

What’s going on here?

This is a respectful/polite way of saying “You look tired” or “You are tired,” using a classical or regional (often Kyoto-style or older) construction. It’s a softened, polite version, especially common in service industry or among people showing concern in a gentle way.

Key point:

おいでです is a polite respectful form of いらっしゃる, which itself is an honorific verb meaning “to be,” “to go,” or “to come,” depending on context.

So:

疲れておいでですよ

really means:

You are tired, or more literally, You are in a state of being tired, said politely and with care.

More “standard” equivalent:

お疲れですね (You’re tired, aren’t you?)
お疲れのようですね (It seems like you’re tired)

In summary:

The conjugation おいでですよ is a respectful and slightly old-fashioned or regional way to say “you are…”
It comes from おいでになる, a polite form of いらっしゃる
It’s perfectly natural in certain contexts, especially when someone wants to express gentle concern

(End Chat GPT answer.)

How incredible. Chat GPT just gave us a detailed explanation on the meaning of 疲れておいでです. This phrase seemed strange to me is because.. well, it is strange. It’s a set phrase, it’s keigo, and it looks like it comes from older Japanese, so the grammar is funky. It seems to be an older and more polite way of saying お疲れですよね！

That was an interesting one. Yes indeed…

興奮しやっって　ついつい…

しやっって is an interesting conjugation.. I didn’t even notice that so much when I wrote it down because I was thinking about the ついつい, and I understood it. I think it is another way to say しちゃって.. combining しちゃう and って. Now I can’t even remember exactly what って is used for in Japanese, in this context at least… But that gets used all the time. The ついつい seems to be “accidentally” or “unintentionally”.

Yeah.. we can stop here. Let’s wrap up this brain dump.

Reflecting on this morning’s session, I was thinking: I already know so much Japanese, and yet there is so much Japanese I don’t know. It’s crazy. There’s just so much language out there. So many words. It’s wild how much we all really know.

Bart

Sometimes, the universe gives you exactly what you ask for, exactly when you ask for it.

(This just happened to me.)

It was noon. I had already done some writing on a story that I’ve been working on. I’m nearing the end of it, and it feels like I’m in the middle of a boss battle. I’m currently writing what seems to be the core emotional center or climax of the piece. It’s a difficult part. I can’t force it. But I can’t leave it alone.

However, after spending the better part of last night as well immersed in writing, I realized I was hitting a limit of time spent in fantasyland. I tried to write outside so that I wasn’t cooped up inside all day but was immediately beset by mosquitoes and angry about it.. I had an unshakeable feeling that I needed to get out into reality and connect with it, right now, during the day. I could come back to writing at night. Now was the time for reality.

With that solified in my mind, I decided to go out and walk, and do a bit of running, which I have wanted to do but am struggling with a calf strain. Just let my feet take me somewhere, and move my body in the sun. I changed clothes, threw on shoes, and out I went.

Immediately, as I turned right to go up the hill and into the depths of my East Nashville neighborhood, I saw a man on the ground in the grass across the street. He was about thirty feet down the way, rolling around near the sidewalk. I didn’t recognize him. I saw that he was old, had snow-white hair. And at first, I thought that he may have been doing yoga or something. I approached him with great curiosity and growing concern. I realized that he was not just doing some noonday stretches, but he trying to get up off the ground, and he was shaking and rocking rhythmically, like he was having a small seizure.

I walked up and studied him. There was no else around. I asked him if he was okay, and what had happened. I now noticed that his forehead was covered in a smear of blood. It was shining and deep red. It was the color of blood. He seemed confused, and I was trying to figure out what had happened to him. Was he having a stroke? Did he have a concussion? How conscious was he? Was he on drugs? He was not coherent at all. He only kept asking me to help him get up.

I could tell that if he did get up, it wouldn’t help him much. He was going to fall right over, and risk hurting himself again. I knew then that I needed to call an ambulance, and I looked around for anybody, but there was no one around. I didn’t have my phone on me and would have to go back and get it. I didn’t want to leave this man, but that was what I had to do. As I walked over to the man I had heard a siren, and I was hoping that maybe they were on the way for him, although there was no one around that I could see that would have called the police. Well, I hung around with this man, who was becoming angry at me, that I was not helping him stand up, which he couldn’t do anyways, and he started yelling at me, when I let go of his hands, “Help me, God Dammit!!” I grabbed his hands again, calming him, and then I saw turning the corner at the end of the street, a fire truck. That was a relief, and I waved to them. They pulled up, and three guys hopped out of the truck.

The lead guy was middle aged, shaved head. The two guys following behind were younger, wearing sunglasses. The shaved head firefighter walked up to the old man, and said to my surprise, in a friendly way, “Hi there Bart! Need some help?” The firefighter knew this guy. That was good. Bart said, not looking up at them, “I don’t want your help. Don’t help me.” He seemed to know them too. He was not happy to see them.

I backed off, and let the professionals take over. They talked to him, grabbed a plastic chair off the nearby porch and sat him down in it. As they picked him up, he collapsed again. The two other firefighters were sitting with him now. The lead firefighter now turned to me and gave me an explanation, in low tones. “He lives just over there,” he said, gesturing to the houses back behind. “He has Lou Gehrig’s disease and does crack, smokes weed.” He talked about it as if it were regrettable but common. All I could really thing to say to this was, “He’s having a tough time, I can tell.” The firefighter now walked over to Bart, and at that time an ambulance and a squad car showed up, everyone getting out of their vehicles. Six personnel were on the scene, and my role here in this small play was finished. I went off on my walk.

I thought briefly about this. I reflected on the plight of this old man, of the casual, matter-of-fact way of speaking about him, in his patheticness, of the firefighter.. This man, a man of my neighborhood, in such abysmal condition, and his story so natural and normal that I don’t even bat an eye at it. It’s not surprising to me at all to have encountered this situation. Especially after New York City, and from my time at the Cummins Station Starbucks, I am not shocked to see these things anymore.

Underneath the normal veil, the standard quietness of this suburban space, today, where I do my writing and my gardening, and things seem so normal, there was a rupture. I learned that my neighbor is doing crack. He is not okay. He is suffering.

Bart punctured the veil.

I am supposed to write something memorable and significant here, in conclusion. I know that. But I don’t really have anything to say.

I left my house seeking reality, and yet I was immediately met with a somewhat fantastical event. I guess it’s just that kind of day. The lines are blurred.

I hope Bart is okay.