Favorite Fictional Character --- Lexington

 

It may be telling that so many of the fictional characters I've been featuring over the last several months come from cartoons. After books, cartoons were where I could get lost in storytelling, forgetting everything else going on in my life — think safety blanket, or blankie for short. As I got older, that dependency shifted into something else. Cartoons became a source of enjoyment first, escapism second. So yeah, I was still watching cartoons in high school.

And while I’m not going through a ton right now, there are a lot of changes at work, and I’m having to challenge myself and what I want moving forward, which is causing a little more stress than usual. That’s probably what’s led me back to revisiting the cartoons from my youth.

Today’s character is from a cartoon that debuted in 1994, the same year I graduated from high school, and I adored him from the beginning. For those of you unfamiliar with Gargoyles, the show follows a Scottish clan of gargoyles who find themselves magically transported from the tenth century to modern-day New York, or at least what was modern day three decades ago. They’re charged with protecting the city from threats, both old and new.

Lexington, the tiny green one, grabbed onto this new opportunity with gusto. He was fascinated by modern technology and dove into it headfirst. He taught himself so well he became a hacker extraordinaire, able to break into almost any security system. He also enjoys the fun side of tech, especially video games. If you need a new motorcycle, he can build one for you — just don’t let him test drive it.

Of all the clan, Lexington adapted to his new reality the quickest, and I think I loved him so much because I hoped some of his openness to new environments would rub off on me, especially as I was preparing to move out of state for college. I’m not sure it did, but I appreciated the inspiration all the same.

What Feasts at Night by T. Kingfisher

 

Synopsis From Dust Jacket:

After the terrifying ordeal at the Usher manor, Alex Easton feels as if they just survived another war. All they crave is rest, routine, and sunshine, but instead, as a favor to Angus and Miss Potter, they find themselves heading to their family hunting lodge, deep in the cold, damp forests of their home country, Gallacia. 

In theory, one can find relaxation in even the coldest and dampest of Gallacian autumns, but when Easton arrives, they find the caretaker dead, the lodge in disarray, and the grounds troubled by a strange, uncanny silence. The villagers whisper that breath-stealing monster from folklore has taken up residence in Easton’s home. Easton knows better than to put too much stock in local superstitions, but they can tell something is not quite right in their home...or in their dreams. 

Let me tell you a story, and if it gets too long, you can skip it. Promise. One of the few places my mom stopped long enough, as we moved more times than I can count — pre-carnival years — was Salem, OR. We lived there for at least a full year before moving further north, but that’s not the story. The house we lived in is.

It was a yellowish beige house on the corner of State St. and some random street I don’t remember the name of. It dead-ended at a railroad track, if that helps anyone place it. Salem wasn’t the safest area to live in the mid-1980s, and our neighborhood was pretty rough… but that’s not really the point.

This little, unassuming house was odd from the start. I had never sleepwalked before, but I started within the first week of living there. The attic opened into the garage, and if you threw a rock up there, it came back down a few minutes later. My mom kept our dog in the garage — not the attic — and it would go absolutely insane, barking up at the attic like its soul was in jeopardy.

One night, some kids from the neighborhood were spending the night, camped out in the living room, when we all heard what sounded like a power saw starting up in the attic. There wasn’t a kid there who didn’t bolt for home. Then there’s the time I watched a crutch travel across a wall in my mom’s bedroom. That one stuck with me.

Needless to say, my mom did a little digging, and while I won’t go into the details, that house had every right to be haunted.

I’m not here to convince you that ghosts are real or that haunted houses exist. I’m just telling you all of that so you understand why I love haunted house stories as much as I do. You’d think an experience like that would’ve sent me running in the opposite direction, but it did the exact opposite. I can’t get enough of them — especially when they lean more Gothic, like What Feasts at Night by T. Kingfisher.

When I realized the sequel to What Moves the Dead was set in a haunted hunting lodge, I was basically screaming in delight like a six-year-old at a My Little Pony birthday party.

I loved What Moves the Dead so much that, despite all that excitement, I was a little hesitant going into this one. I was worried a second outing with Alex — which still somehow doesn’t involve us sitting down for tea — wouldn’t live up to my probably overinflated expectations.

Thankfully, Kingfisher didn’t let me down. I enjoyed the hell out of this.

I tore through this in one sitting, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t get under my skin a little. There’s a slow, suffocating dread here that just keeps building until you realize you’ve been holding your breath right along with Alex. That dread comes through most in how the haunting itself plays out.

The way she crafts this haunting genuinely got under my skin. Alex is attacked by a vengeful spirit that literally steals their breath as they sleep, slowly wearing down their already fever-racked body. And as if that isn’t bad enough, they’re trapped in a nightmarish dreamscape that forces them to relive the worst atrocities they experienced during the war — along with all the guilt and regret that comes with it. To fight back, Alex has to work through those memories head-on instead of avoiding them, which makes this feel more personal.

Maybe that’s why this worked so well for me. That house in Salem never really left me — that feeling that something is there, just out of sight, but very real. This book taps into that same kind of quiet, creeping dread.

Some haunted houses try to scare you.

This one feels a little too much like home.

Favorite Fictional Character --- Captain Caveman

 

"Caaaptain Caaaavemaaaan!"

I was that kid who would plop himself down on his grandparents’ living room floor — even when they had brand new white carpet — turn on the USA Network, and get lost in USA Cartoon Express for an hour or two, depending on the day. The vast majority of the cartoons came out in the 1970s, but that never mattered to me. I could watch Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!, The Herculoids, Thundarr the Barbarian, Space Ghost, Jabberjaw, and the rest of the gang just as easily as I watched newer shows like He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, G.I. Joe, Shirt Tales, Kissyfur, and The Wuzzles. If it was a cartoon, I was all in. It didn’t matter how old it was or when it originally aired — if it was animated, it had my full attention.

One of the shows I loved most was Captain Caveman and the Teen Angels. If you’ve never seen it, think a mix of Scooby-Doo and Charlie’s Angels, with the addition of a caveman accidentally thawed from a block of ice by three teen girls. Cavey quickly joins them, and before long, he’s right there alongside Dee Dee, Brenda, and Taffy as they travel around solving mysteries and catching the bad guys.

There was something about Cavey — ridiculous as he was — that stuck with me. Between his Cousin Itt-like appearance, his “Me Tarzan, you Jane” way of speaking, and powers that never quite worked the way they were supposed to, he shouldn’t have worked as well as he did. And yet he did. He never gave up. No matter how often things went wrong, he would shake it off and keep going, completely content with the life he had found with the Teen Angels.

They only solved mysteries for 40 episodes, but those adventures have stuck with me far longer than that. It’s still one of those shows I find myself going back to every now and then — not just for the nostalgia, but for the simple joy it always managed to bring with it.

Trust: America's Best Chance by Pete Buttigieg

 

Synopsis From Dust Jacket:

Trust is essential to the foundation of America’s democracy, asserts Pete Buttigieg, the former presidential candidate and South Bend mayor. Yet, in a century warped by terrorism, financial collapse, Trumpist populism, systemic racism, and now a global pandemic, trust has been squandered, sacrificed, abused, stolen, or never properly built in the first place. And now, more so than ever before, Americans must work side by side to reckon with the monumental challenges posed by our present moment.

Interweaving history, political philosophy, and affecting passages of memoir, Buttigieg explores the strong relationship between measures of prosperity and levels of social trust. He provides an impassioned account of a threefold crisis of trust: in our institutions, in each other, and in the American project itself. Today, these perilous patterns of distrust have wreaked havoc on nearly every sector of society, as Americans increasingly resent the very government that needs to be part of the solution. With the internet and partisan television networks acting as accelerants, Americans jettison any sense of shared reality, lose confidence in experts and scientists, and cope with the grim national tragedy of a pandemic that has only further exemplified the lethality of distrust.

Buttigieg contends that our success, or failure, at confronting the greatest challenges of the decade―racial and economic justice, pandemic resilience, and climate action―will rest on whether we can effectively cultivate, deepen, and, where necessary, repair the networks of trust that are now endangered, or for so many, have never even existed.

I’ve admired Pete Buttigieg for quite a while now, and reading Trust only deepened that admiration. During his presidential campaign, he and his husband Chasten carried themselves with a level of dignity and respect that often feels rare in modern politics. Even in a very intense national spotlight, they remained gracious, grounded, and consistently decent. As a gay man, that meant a lot to me then, and it still does now.

What stands out most in Trust is how clearly Buttigieg explains the growing crisis of mistrust in our institutions — and how complicated the reasons for that mistrust actually are. He writes about the erosion of confidence in government, the news media, and other institutions that shape our public life, and he does so thoughtfully rather than defensively. If I’m being honest, it’s one of the most balanced discussions of the issue I’ve read, and that approach really resonated with me.

He is also careful to acknowledge that mistrust didn’t simply appear out of nowhere. In many cases it was earned — particularly among marginalized communities that have historically been excluded, ignored, or even harmed by the very institutions now asking for their trust. At the same time, he addresses the rise of purposeful misinformation and how it has deepened existing fractures. In many ways, that deliberate misinformation feels like pouring gasoline on a fire that was already burning.

When I finished Trust, I felt that the problem he describes is serious but not hopeless. Buttigieg clearly believes our democratic institutions are worth repairing, and I appreciated his willingness to engage the issue directly. The country could use more leaders willing to do that — and honestly, I’m begging him to run for president again someday.

Favorite Fictional Character --- Charles "Trip" Tucker III

 

I’m going to apologize in advance if this ends up being a little rambling as I’m currently dealing with a medication change from gabapentin to Lyrica. The brain fog is real and I'm ridiculously tired — all I want to do is lie down and watch TV until I fall asleep.

Lately I've been binging Star Trek shows, which is not a series I've ever been all that interested in. I kept reading a certain segment of the fandom is melting down because of Starfleet Academy, so I gave the first two episodes a try, and I'm now hooked. I loved it so much that I decided to watch all of the shows in chronological order. I started with Star Trek: Enterprise, and now I’m finishing up Star Trek: Discovery.

I wasn't sure what to expect as I've never been an actual fan of the Star Trek universe. I was a sporadic viewer of The Next Generation and Voyager, and I would watch the original series with my mom as a kid, if I couldn't get out of it. I think I watched more episodes of The Animated Series than I did the live-action version.

I absolutely loved Enterprise, and one day I'll do a binge review, and a huge reason I enjoyed it as much as I did was because of today's FFC subject, Charles "Trip" Tucker III, the chief engineer of Enterprise (NX-01).

I don't often describe someone as magnetic, but I can't think of a more fitting descriptor when it comes to Trip. He has a large personality and has more self confidence stored in his blue eyes than I have ever possessed. When he walks into a room, it's impossible not to notice him. He's loyal, yet can be quick to anger and hold a grudge like no other. And yeah, I'm rambling a bit but I really do like this guy.

When he fell in love and eventually had his heart broken, he showed a level of emotional maturity that had me thinking he needs to jump off the screen and start teaching people, and I mean men, how to handle heartache in a way that can't be described as toxic.

He's a complex guy with a strong sense of duty, and he is one of those guys I would have had a hero-worship crush on when I was younger. Now that I'm only a few months shy of fifty, he's the kind of guy I would respect the hell out of — and gravitate toward as someone who would make a great friend.

I think I'm going to pick one character from each show to do one of these on, as I'm curious to see who will end up being my favorite on each show. I just hope whoever I pick from Star Trek: Discovery isn't treated as badly by the writers as Trip was at the end of Star Trek: Enterprise. That was a damn shame, though you'll have to watch the show to find out what I'm talking about.

Midnight Lace (1960)

 

Synopsis From Rotten Tomatoes:

When the American wife of a wealthy London-based financier starts receiving frightening phone calls, she believes her life is in danger, but when she protests to her family following a near-fatal accident, they and the police doubt her claims and even her sanity. 

I'm not sure when I first watched Midnight Lace, but the scene with Doris Day in a fog-filled park while an invisible stalker whispers death threats stayed with me for years. It's one of those scenes that sends chills up your spine, and Doris Day absolutely sold me on her fear and panic as her life was being threatened.

As a kid, I grew up on the Doris Day and Rock Hudson movies, so I wasn't expecting her performance as a woman whose life is slowly unraveling to be so captivating, as I had prejudged the type of actress she was based on my limited knowledge of her. She was mesmerizing — just staying this side of paranoid madness.

The supporting cast is just as good — but what would you expect from Rex Harrison, an actor who can swing between hero and villain effortlessly? Watching Myrna Loy as Aunt Bea reminds me of just how little the studios made use of her gifts as she aged. She was brilliant in the 1930s, and she was just as good here, albeit in a much smaller role than she deserved. John Gavin, despite his politics, was a talented actor who drew an audience in and never let them go. I'm pretty sure it had just as much to do with his good looks as it did with his talent — he was always easy on the eyes. His performance in Midnight Lace as the man who swoops in and saves the day could give some of our current action heroes a point or two.

If you've had the pleasure of watching Grace Kelly in Dial M for Murder or Barbara Stanwyck in Sorry, Wrong Number — two of my favorite movies — it's not hard to guess who's behind the murderous scheme. But don't let that stop you from watching Midnight Lace — it's a thrilling romp through the streets of London, and Doris Day proves she was more than a brilliant romcom actress. It's just sad that she didn't do more movies like this, because I would have become just as addicted to them as I am to this one.

What I'm Currently Reading

 

The God of the Woods by Liz Moore — A friend of mine sent this to me when it was first released, and while I’m just now getting started, I’m enjoying it so far.

Trust: America’s Best Chance by Pete Buttigieg — With the steady rise of misinformation bombarding us from all directions, this felt like the right moment to revisit it.

The Mage and His Brute by Ava Salinger — A gay Regency romance/mystery series with an intricate magic system. I'm turning to this when everything else feels too heavy.

Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen — This was one of the selections for the “12 Books from 12 Friends” challenge on Facebook. As much as I want to enjoy it, I’m struggling.