On Adam West

Back before I moved to this side of Murfreesboro, I lived in a little blue house. Every day, when I would come home from school, I would get a peanut butter sandwich and watch the 1966 version of Batman. That was Adam West. In the cartoons and shows I watched growing up, from Fairly Odd Parents to Goosebumps, I saw Adam West play the hero.

He was my favorite character in Family Guy and managed to do so without a single Batman reference. He was the Gray Ghost, the hero that inspired Kevin Conroy’s Batman. He played Thomas Wayne for Diedrich Bader’s Batman. Adam West was a kind-hearted man who could take a joke. He loved being lampooned on Mystery Science Theater 3000 and reveled in camp.

I am filled with sorrow at his passing. He was everywhere in my life and his work will live on, but he will be so tremendously missed. Adam West represented the Silver Age of Batman. An age where light heartedness and justice could be one and the same. Adam West was so much more than that though, but he thrived in it regardless.

Thank you. Thank you for always being you and not forcing yourself to change. Thank you for always bringing a smile to my face. Thank you for introducing me to Batman. Thank you for everything.

I will miss you.


College Story Time #1

Last night I went out with my friend Brian to get some of my favorite things ever, Taco Bell hard shell tacos.

It was late, or early depending of your frame of reference, and the line was long. I let my thoughts drift to other things. Brian asked me what I wanted to order, since he drove, and I told him a regular Taco 12 Pack, might as well share what I love. So, we pull up to the speaker.

Speaker Voice #1: “Welcome to Taco Bell, may I please take your order.”

Brian: “Yeah, I’d like a Taco 12 Pack, please.”

Speaker Voice #1: “Okay th-”

Speaker Voice #2: “OH MY GOD!”

Speaker Voice #1: “That’ll be (insert arbitrary dollar amount here). Please pull to the first window.”

Brian and I begin to discuss what could have happened to cause such an outburst. I jokingly suggest that they ran out of tacos. We get to the window and here the cashier say, “I don’t want to tell him, you tell him.” So a guy leans out the window.

They had run out of tacos.

Beef anyway. Immediately I think, well I wouldn’t mind a substitute. Chicken or steak would do. Before I can even get the words out of my mouth I here him say, “And I know this sounds fuckin’ crazy, but we’ve run out of chicken and steak too. There are five tacos left, just give us a minute and you can have them for free.”

The window closes and Brian and I are flabbergasted. Suddenly, what I can only assume is a discontented customer, whips around us and crosses the street quickly to the McDonald’s drive thru. I get my tacos and get back to Brian’s place.

They were delicious.

Alone in the Theater

I am a part of a generation that sees going to the movies as a very social event. One night out with friends or a significant other to see a movie is the most basic way to spend a night with people my age.


I love movies. I love seeing movies. I love hanging out too, so I have traditionally delayed seeing something in theaters until I had at least one other person to go see it with. In my Freshman year of college, when I was in a relationship and all my friends had the same schedule as me I saw a new movie every week. I saw everything I wanted to see in theaters during that time. The good, the bad, and the ugly (Looking at you The Identical) were all seen by me and my gaggle of pals.

Then things changed. The relationship ended, some friendships faded, and schedules changed. Suddenly going to see movies with my friends went from a weekly thing to maybe once every few months. A part of my life basically disintegrated and I didn’t realize until recently.

Now, I have always been a big proponent of doing things by yourself.  It is very easy for someone who has a girlfriend and sees their friends everyday to say things like, “You can always do things by yourself”, “Being alone doesn’t mean you have to stop having fun”, or “You don’t need friends/a significant other to treat yourself”. When all of that stopped I felt like I had to eat my own words.

I didn’t do things by myself. I couldn’t do things by myself. Isolation put chains around me and the idea of having fun with no one else around became myth. Something I could entertain in my thoughts, but could never aspire to reach.

Then the story, as a tragic number of stories do, took a darker turn. My depression got worse, my anxiety attacks became more frequent, and my bipolar disorder swung harder. It became difficult to even go to bed without suffering from some sort of attack. And I continued to do nothing different in my life. I kept the same habits, I kept the same everything. So, I kept the same conditions.

Then something in me, as many things have, broke. Guardians of the Galaxy VOL. 2 came out. It wasn’t like I was counting down the days to this movie. I’d only seen the original in theaters once and haven’t seen it since. I asked the usual group of people and they had plans with other people to see it, I asked another group and they had already seen it, I finally asked people I had never seen a movie with and I was met with either no response or something that the first two groups had given me. I went to see it by myself. I bought my ticket and drink. Sat my lonely ass down in a theater seat and watched Chris Pratt fight Kurt Russell.

Then, a week later, I saw it again with one of my closest friends.

Last night, I asked less people if they wanted to see Wonder Woman and all of them had their reasons not to. So I went to see it alone. Earlier that day I asked my friend and former film teacher how often he sees movies by himself and it gave me a resolve not to make myself wait so much anymore. I don’t need other people to do what I want and seeing movies by myself is the first step to doing many other things.