William Brand

Sorry, Jill. I never made it out to San Fransisco. Too busy while I was there.

Ahhh, the benefits of being a guest in my own house.

The book mobile was a much bigger deal way back when. I loved the book mobile.

Welcome aboard, sah. Which part of Britain do you hail from?

I need some sunlight for a variety of reasons. Now an act from Hamlet is going through my head.

The Making of Tawny: Part Three The days and weeks which followed David's arrival were as joyous and real as those which follow the arrival of any child, but only outwardly and in unequal portions. Cormac was the perfect picture of a proud father, grinning ear to ear and everywhere speaking of his son. He could not speak of the weather but to say how it would touch his boy. He was alive with the excitement of the moment, and it seemed that that moment would never end. Aingeal, almost Cormac's opposite, was quiet and silent on the subject. Almost everyone around her took this for an inward and thoughtful peace, for she never spoke but to agree with Cormac in the simplest of ways. Indeed, she was so quiet that she was oft compared to the Madonna, ever reflecting inward about her newborn son. As for David, he was a strong child and of a good voice when it came to appetite and requirements. He was vocal on all subjects and seemed to prefer wailing to any other sound. Cormac was delighted by this and ever reminded Aingeal that David's lungs were powerful. Aingeal agreed with a solitary yes, all the while plotting outrageous ills upon the child for the crying grated upon her and made her murderous at times. Despite their differences in affection, the family soon became a matter of routine, for weeks gave over to months and months to years. Cormac soon lost a little of the pride in his stride and returned to his work. His affection did not dim, but it rather altered, for he took on more work than before, anxious to provide for his son and wife in the long term. As many men were wont to do, he turned the matter of David's early years over to Aingeal, content to wait until David was older before stepping in to make him a man. This was of course an unforeseen mistake on Cormac's part, for he could never have imagined Aingeal's unnatural plans to alter the boy. So it was that David became David to his father and everyone else, while in secret he became something else. When no one else was about Aingeal called him Tara. Being as young as he was the name meant no more to him in the first few years than any pet name or nickname that a loving parent might use, but Aingeal was careful to use only Tara and nothing else. After a time she took to calling him Tara openly, but never loudly enough for anyone to hear. As David grew he took this for a distinction of affection from his mother and nothing more, and as no one else seemed to notice this, he never thought to mention it. In addition to this private use of his middle name, Aingeal was also careful to flatter Tara with words or adjectives generally reserved for girls. While Cormac used words like Handsome or clever, she would call him lovely or sweet. She also took advantage of Cormac's absence to dress her Tara up in clothes befitting a girl, not that the clothes of an infant boy or girl contrasted greatly at first, but she carried on doing this into his toddler years and beyond. In addition to dressing her son in garments covered in lace and sprinkled in perfumes, she would also speak to him as if he was a girl, making no distinction concerning gender. She would use phrases like 'We girls' or 'Ladies like ourselves'. She even went a step further and dressed up an unused room in a corner of their very arge home with dolls and delicate things. She would spend most of her time here with Tara ever reminding her child that such things were a secret between women and were never to be spoken of to men. Now Aingeal did sometimes question herself in this regard, but not enough to quit the road she travelled on. She sometimes hated herself for being purposefully strange and secretive, but not enough to change her mind, repent of her actions or alter her course. With each decision to push beyond her conscience, she became stranger still and began to relish the perversion her son might become, imagining new ways to alter him over the course of his years. Time passed this way, and the child was sometimes David and sometimes Tara. For himself, the young Tenile was intelligent, witty and imaginative, enough so that most of Aingeal's efforts of madness had little effect, except to make Tenile confused and more quiet than some children. When he was David, he was awkward and shy, though possessed of physical strength and stature at even an early age, owing to some traits passed to him by his father. As David he was very polite, so Cormac took no notice of early oddities. When he was Tara, or rather when she was Tara, she was genteel and modest, though of a stronger, more outward confidence. She felt comfortable, even encouraged to be such under the auspicious care of her mother-sister Aingeal. Of course, with the passing of time, David-Tara began to understand that there were strange underpinnings in life which were confusing. David-Tara's father seemed to think that he-she was a boy, while his-her mother thought him-her a girl. By the time David-Tara realized this very important thing he-she had already noted a certain difference in genders among other people, for women seemed possessed of ample parts not associated with men and men seemed possessed of a very strange appendage not gifted to women, and as David-Tara had the one and not the others, he-she grew concerned. Owing to these concerns and the many contradictions they created, David-Tara began a secret third life. This life was devoted to learning things on his-her own. Much of this time was spent in spying on both genders to learn the subtle and confusing differences in the sexes, which also required David-Tara's young mind to wade through the impossible tangle of social and political views expressed and hidden by adults. This proved to be a difficult task for a child. Navigating the open and hidden life of people created so many different ideas in the young David-Tara, that he-she could not often decide what was true and what was false. David-Tara also spent a considerable time undressing him-herself to examine the strangeness of being what appeared to be a man as he-she knew it, despite his-her mother-sister's protestations. he-she was very thorough to check him-herself to be certain that as he-she grew older he-she remained unchanged. David-Tara understood that as girls grew they developed breasts, which became ample with some and not with others, but as no such alteration seemed eminent in him-her, he-she did not know what to make of this. By the age of nine his-her young mind came to the childlike, but perfectly understandable conclusion that all parents treated their children as a boy and girl as part of their education. Of course, David-Tara's exact thoughts on the matter were more innocent and abstract, but it was this general idea that gave him-her comfort and he-she decided then that all was well and right, though he-she continued to investigate every nuance of life as often as freedom permitted. he-she did in fact question this idea many times, for outwardly he-she was praised as a boy by everyone but his-her mother-sister and eventually David-Tara replaced the idea that he-she was a girl-boy and came to the conclusion that all people started as both only to become one or the other in time. The problem was, David-Tara liked being both. he-she liked it so much that he-she grew ever more concerned that the choice to remain so would be taken away from him-her. This made David-Tara very angry and even fearful for everyone about him-her seemed determined to make him-her a boy, and he-she was wise enough to see that his-her mother-sister openly despised being made into a women herself and would probably hate him-her if he-she became a boy. "Will they do that to me?" he-she wondered. "Will I have to become a boy?" he-she asked himself aloud, and often. So worried did David-Tara become concerning this that he-she began to wonder about the steps which might be taken to prevent such a choice. These thoughts carried him back to his-her earlier discoveries, for in his-her diverse attempts to understand gender and its purposes, he-she had often turned to the animals about the countryside, noting the similar traits that mammals all possessed. During these discoveries he-she had witnessed the gelding and alteration of animals to a gender of a third kind, at least as he-she understood it. he-she chanced to think innocently that it was possible to become neither gender, so that he-she might in some way escape the need to alter what he-she was with the simplest alteration to his-her anatomy. In these thoughts, David-Tara was utterly alone. Like most children he had reached the age of self discovery, but unlike most he was poorly armed to that purpose, being possessed of so many misguided and misrepresented ideas of life, gender, role, anatomy and even affections that he would never understand what he had been robbed of. He was so altered by this time as to be outside the purview of common understanding and as such he was beyond the many subtle epiphanies of other boys his age. The road before him did not even offer him the choices of sexuality as we understand them, for he would never be heterosexual, homosexual or even bisexual in the ways in which we define them. He would be unique ever after, the damaged son of a loving and oblivious father and a broken woman who dared to call herself his mother and sister.

I remember The Pop Shoppe drinks. Of course I grew up near Canada. I also remember the soccer craze in the mid 70s. Knee high socks and Pelé. My best friend had the first Atari in the neighborhood. The last Apollo mission happened at the beginning of my life.

The Callahans and I went to Home Depot in garb to by the canvas and paint for the Pub flag at PIP. We got our share of smiles.

"I fear that den Oven will escape the island, if he has not already. We might yet exchange a broadside or two with the fool come some bloody Friday." Preston continued to muse aloud about the whereabouts and mortality of Ajayi and Joshua. He touched on several points William might have made aloud, including the possibility that Mister Wellings had crossed to the side of den Oven, though he never said such of Ajayi. No, it was more likely that Ajayi would not go willingly with den Oven, but being a slave of some value, was compelled to go for use as 'currency'. William agreed on this point with a solitary, slow 'yes' which came out sounding like a long exhale laced with fatigue. "Klaas, dead." Preston said aloud once more. "Exonerated 'n death." William nodded, and despite the graveness of the moment, he found that he liked the phrase. "Exonerated in death," he repeated aloud, and wondered then if it would be applied to himself one day.

Nicole Dowland deserves much of the credit. She took control of the event and put together and amazing evening, for never having done one before. We filled the theater. Good food. Good guests.

Life has been busy. I recently had the privilege of attending both a charity event and an ambassador event. The charity event was for Equality Now and we raised just over $2,000. It was well attended, despite the fact that we had less than a month and a half to advertise and pull it off.

Pot roast on a bed of carrots and potatoes?

Now...what will you have?

He's much better today. It wasn't illness, but a disagreement with something he ate. A mild case of food poisoning perhaps, but he is fine now.

BOO! Wow, it's so nice to see you among the masses. Consider yourself added to the camp this year and every year after.

3 1/2 year old. Vomitting. 3 AM. One of those nights after one of those oh so unpleasant days.

When you deal with some of the people I deal with you sometimes wear boots. What time is it...? I can't remember the last time I slept in 'til the latter part of the Forenoon Watch.

William walks in, goes straight back to his room and falls into bed without so much as removing his boots. Just that kind of day.

August 4, 1704 -Aboard the Lucy William asked Preston to explain all that had transpired aboard the Lucy and ashore in the absence of the 'Dog. Preston launched into an immediate narrative as William wrung out what few personal items he could in a basin that Miss Ashcombe made available to him. William also took the time to lay out his cutlass and confirm the absence of his pistol as Preston went on uninterrupted. Over the course of a few minutes, several items found their way onto the table before Captain Brand, including a purse of mixed coin, a handkerchief, and one very large, round, golden watch, which William took up at once with some concern, holding it to his ear. Preston paused to give William adequate silence and after a moment, an appreciative smile spread across William's lips. "A credit to its maker." William said as he replaced it on the table. During all of this, Miss Ashcombe attempted the role of hostess, offering what alcohol was to be had, which only Preston accepted and a weak tea, which William refused with a slow shake of his head. The stew was received better, despite a distant civility on William's part when speaking with Miss Ashcombe, for he had shared no more than two words with her since coming aboard. Preston ended his report and asked for news in kind. William paused a moment before reciprocating. He pushed his stew aside and looked directly at Preston. "Klaas Scymmelpenninck was found beaten to death....his body thrown headlong down a well." William said flattly, and waited while the Master's countenance altered in degrees. Preston's face changed very little on the surface, apart from darkening into an angry quiet, but William knew him well enough to take in the more subtle reactions. With this news ingested, William continued to explain the business of hunting down den Oven as he had witnessed it in St. Louis. He made no mention of Murin or her new accommodations.

Welcome aboard. Which part of the Carolinas do you hail from?

A nice thick head of hair and a good healthy color. She looks fine and well suited to go to sea one day.

August 4, 1704- Aboard the Lucy William stood awhile in bemusement of his own appearance. As hard as it was raining, he still managed to match it with the remaining water that streamed from his cloths. He held his arms out from his sides and examined the damage to his coat. One of the great pockets was torn, but more than this, it would take days to see it dry again. His heavy weather gear now served only to keep water in. 'I'm drowned.' William thought, though he didn't say it aloud. He thought it best to tempt neither fate nor the fears of men. Preston stood by remaking Gavin Montgomery from the crown of his head on down with so many carefully picked words. William was of no such mind, too grateful not to be drowned in such a stupid way to be angry now, but he let the Ship's Master remind Gavin that a mistake great or small can kill a man or two along the way. "Sah...?" Nigel stood at William's elbow with a dry coat. "Keep it by." William said, to wet to care for comfort for the moment. Instead, he went to the side and watched the Lucy's men bail the Patricia. Preston joined him there and William did not withhold his praise of the Lucy's crew. Three bells of First Watch

Cigars and clay pipes all around! Congratulations and a hearty well done to your lovely wife.

Crow!!!

Having nursed a crow and a common raven back to health, I would love a corvid of some kind, though it would have to be one that can't fly, because I can't justify keeping any creature of flight in captivity. I would love an African Raven.