K-Box in the Box

Newspaper reporter, TV/movie reviewer and self-appointed pundit of pop culture.

[kbox-in-the-box]

BYRON BRASS MAKES HIS DEBUT

I keep building out "Saving Alexandria," the pilot episode of "Austin Kingsley: Star Prodigy," and as soon as I cast Ernie Hudson as Byron Brass, I realized he would be an invaluable voice of sanity among my ensemble, as well as a welcome sounding board for Mitzi Klingfeld, as she copes with the madness of adventuring with Austin.

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"We're not in high school anymore," Mitzi Klingfeld told the tall, dapper Black man casually blowing his cigarette smoke out the open doorway of the Bookhouse. "So you don't have to worry about getting caught smoking in the boys' room."

Byron Brass turned to meet the stacked blonde's teasing smirk with a relaxed smile of his own, as he dutifully flicked his ashes outdoors. "Just keeping a promise to Austin's parents. First time I visited, they pointed out how tobacco smoke damages the artifacts."

Mitzi winced. "Shoot. Maybe I'll join you outside, then."

"To bask in my secondhand smoke?" Byron grinned before taking another drag, then extending his pack to her as she stepped out to join him. "You act like you're jonesing for something to take the edge off."

Mitzi reflexively reached out before her shoulders slumped in frustration. "I shouldn't. I promised my daughter I'd quit for good this time." She sniffed derisively. "Besides, I'm not Black enough for menthols."

"Oh, ho!" Byron laughed in earnest. "Says the lady with the Motown cassettes next to the Walkman on her desk. I'll bet I'm not the first brother to share a smoke with you."

Mitzi affected a mock-scandalized gasp. "I'll have you know I was raised a churchgoing country gal in Coral Shores."

"Who came creeping around the clubs in Carmichael Heights every weekend, no doubt," Byron countered good-naturedly, as he meticulously extinguished and field-stripped his cigarette butt. "Your daughter's right, though. You should quit. You'll both be better off."

Mitzi nodded in resignation, before challenging him with a skeptical squint. "What about you?"

Byron flashed an effortlessly high-beam smile, whose cheer noticeably failed to reach his eyes. "Nobody will miss me."

Mitzi winced, even as she sought to keep her tone light. "That … can't be right. I'm sure your family—"

"The folks passed on a while back," Byron summarized briskly, as he straightened his posture from having leaned on the doorframe. "As for my sister, she'd stopped speaking to me even before our father died."

"But … why?" Mitzi almost whispered.

Byron stepped back into the Bookhouse, even as he held the door open for Mitzi to return indoors with him, in what struck her as being a single fluid but formal motion. "At the risk of being rude, that's a private matter I don't care to discuss."

Mitzi stumbled as she rushed to keep pace with his broad strides. "I'm sorry—"

Byron held up his hand. "You didn't know." He then cast a sidelong gaze at her. "But you make it your business to know, don't you? You pay attention. You learn."

Mitzi suddenly felt very seen, in a way that made her uncomfortable, and she crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "Let's face it, you don't exactly last long in this world otherwise, do you?"

Byron shook his head in concurrence, before sizing her up with a glance. "That being the case, how about you tell me what I've just walked into here, Mitzi Klingfield?"

Mitzi blinked and gaped. "That's what you were supposed to tell me! You were part of Austin's family for … what, half a dozen years?"

"The last contact I had with either Austin or his father was a solid decade ago," Byron ticked off his points on his fingers. "You know what we call that in the field? Cold intel. In the meantime, you've been on the ground here for at least 24 hours, working side by side with Austin."

Mitzi protested, "You watched him grow up—"

"That tells me who he was, not who he is," Byron sighed impatiently. "When I saw Austin last, he was a teenaged boy. He still missed his mother, and his father had lost his way. He was a young man on the cusp. Even his mother wasn't sure how he might turn out. Before she died, she made me promise to look after Austin and his father, in case anything happened to her, and to try and do what would be best for them."

"So why didn't you?" Mitzi challenged him, her temper rising as she fixed her jaw defiantly. "Why did I have to look you up in a computerized Rolodex to find you? Why did you break your promise? Where were you, that all of this had to become my problem?"

Byron exhaled, deflating in remorse. "To keep one promise, I had to break the other. If I'd stayed, it would have made things worse." He met her upset stare. "In some relationships, continuing to support someone you care about can turn into enabling their self-sabotage. I'm gonna guess you've had some experience with that yourself."

Mitzi broke away from their stare first. "Dammit," she breathed, shutting her eyes tight before she eventually returned his gaze. "So, what all do you want to know?"

Byron shrugged. "What's Austin like as an adult?"

"If he ever grows up, I'll tell you," Mitzi quipped automatically.

"Oh," Byron chuckled in understanding.

"How is it possible for the smartest man I've ever met to be the stupidest at the same time?" Mitzi brushed her bangs back from her face in aggravated agitation. "He's, like, Monopoly money rich, right? But he barely even understands what money IS! He's traveled all around the world, but somehow, he's never even learned how to drive! He can speak a dozen different languages, but my 9-year-old is more capable of carrying on a mature adult conversation! Just a few hours ago, I watched him save the WORLD, but I'm pretty sure he couldn't even tie a set of shoelaces!"

"So why stay?" Byron strongly suspected he already knew the answer.

The question, by itself, seemed to stop Mitzi short. "Somebody had to, I suppose." It was all she could come up with.

"No." Byron said the word sternly but gently. He was no longer brooking any self-deception. "The moment Austin told you about me and Ken, you could have contacted either one of us, and none of this would have been your problem any longer. You stood by our boy," he preemptively interrupted her, "for reasons beyond your bleeding heart for orphaned strays and lost causes."

Mitzi inhaled sharply, and Byron thought he spotted her widening her eyes, to prevent their welling mist from spilling over onto her cheeks. "As much as he drives me batty, Austin is actually a really good person," she conceded, her tone uncharacteristically muted.

"He told you he believed in you." Byron managed not to laugh out loud.

"Who says that, to someone they've barely even met?" Mitzi objected, her voice finally faltering. "Coming from anyone else? I'd call it emotional blackmail. But Austin's not sensitive enough to anyone's feelings to even TRY to manipulate them. When he tells you he trusts you, he's not even trying to make you feel better. He's just telling the truth. It actually means more because he couldn't care less about your feelings." A broken-glass giggle escaped the back of her throat. "What a mind-job."

Byron leaned back, against what he'd accurately deduced was Mitzi's desk, and for the first time since his arrival, he took the time to take stock of the interior of the building he'd once regarded as a second home. "The more things change, the more they stay the same," he assessed with a serene amusement.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mitzi wrinkled her nose warily.

Byron slapped the heavily scarred yet solidly built desktop with his broad, open palms. "Austin's mother deeply disliked this desk. She tried to get rid of it at every opportunity, but his father kept hauling it back out of the scrapyard. Sometimes, I think this place is where things wind up when they're too old to die."

Byron paused, briefly lost in thought, before he recovered his bearings. "That includes old memories, and recurring emotions. Whenever Austin's father first met someone, I could always spot the moment they fell in love with him. Not that he ever caught on, not even once. I used to wonder whether that oblivious Kingsley charm would pass onto the next generation." He turned his sizing-up stare back onto Mitzi. "At the risk of being reductive, seeing you get this worked up sure does seem to settle that question."

"Ohhh, nonononono," Mitzi wagged her finger. "Even when I was still married, to a lawyer who was always away from home, because he was 'putting in overtime,'" she emphasised her sarcasm with air-quotes, "giving his personal assistant 'dictation,' I was never one of those Eloi Estates housewives, who was desperate enough to hook up with shiny guys named Chad."

Byron nodded in sympathetic understanding. "And since I'm guessing you got wrung through the wringer, going up against a husband who was also a lawyer, in divorce and child custody proceedings …"

Mitzi gripped her own shoulders. "Let's just say I'd like to think I've learned at least enough not to catch feelings for some doe-eyed whiz kid, especially when he's halfway between me and my daughter's ages."

"You think Austin would care about, or even notice, however old you might be?" Byron scoffed.

"No, but somebody should," Mitzi offered in a small, sad voice. "One of us needs to care about things that shouldn't matter, but that absolutely do matter anyway."

Byron raised his hands in silent surrender, declining to press the point further, for the time being.

"Where's your buddy, anyway?" Mitzi perked up suddenly, as the lull in the conversation allowed her to recall Ken Kawasaki, Byron's closest colleague from his time in the Kingsleys' Knighthood of Science. "You said you called each other 'kemo sabe,' like the Lone Ranger and Tonto? Wasn't he supposed to be here by now?"

"We each work diligently to defy our respective racial stereotypes," Byron snarked playfully, but with a hint of impatience reemerging from behind his smirk. "I'm Black, so I arrive 15 minutes early. He's Japanese, so he shows up late. What's somehow more tiresome than his tardiness is how he tries to pull it off, by saying—"

"A wizard arrives precisely when he means to," Ken completed Byron's quote, rapping on the Bookhouse's opened door with his key.

"Well, hi!" Mitzi chirped cheerfully, as she pushed back the sleeve of her baggy sweater, and the hoops of her bangle bracelets, to extend her hand. "Mitzi Klingfeld. We spoke on the phone?"

The leather jacket-clad motorcycle rider accepted her hand to lay a quick, ceremonial peck on her proffered fingers. "Nice nails," he observed offhandedly. "Ken Kawasaki. Console Cowboy Consulting. And I see you've already met Byron Brass, of Conscientious Countermeasures."

"We've already gotten acquainted, thanks to you generously giving us plenty of time to do so." Byron couldn't resist tossing in a sardonic aside.

"I'm Austin Kingsley's … personal assistant, I suppose," Mitzi twittered her fingers anxiously, more flustered than she anticipated by Ken's idle compliment and affectionate gesture. "Austin told me the proper title is, I'm his … amanuensis," she enunciated each syllable deliberately.

"Yeah, that sure sounds like our Buckyball, alright," Ken rolled his eyes in recognition. "Where's our boy, anyway? Napping in the stacks, like always?"

"Hmh, probably," Mitzi couldn't help snorting slightly. "Wanna help me hunt him down?"

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THE SEVEN KEYS TO THE BOOKHOUSE

In 1936, Ulysses Kingsley acquired Building 49-A in what would become the Hammersmith Industrial Development of Apex City, Calizona, and he named that building the Bookhouse. The Bookhouse (and its contents) became the most prized asset of three generations of the Kingsley family, for which only seven keys were minted, and those could not be duplicated. Custody of those keys came to define each generation of Kingsleys' inner circles, but it was Ulysses' son, Charlemagne Kingsley, who named their custodians the Knighthood of Science.

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Green Key Golden Age owner: Ulysses Kingsley Silver Age successor: Charlemagne Kingsley Modern inheritor: Austin Kingsley

The first key to the Bookhouse was named for the center of the visible light spectrum. This key was minted in 1936, and when Ulysses went missing in 1956, his son Charlemagne found that the key had been left behind for him. Likewise, before Charlemagne disappeared in 1987, he made sure his son Austin knew where his key was safely stored.

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Blue Key Golden Age owner: Phryne Falken Silver Age successor: Hypatia Germain Kingsley Modern inheritor: Mitzi Klingfeld

Ulysses gave the second key to the Bookhouse to his partner Phryne shortly before they got married in 1936. Shortly before Phryne set out to try and find her former husband Joshua in 1954, she left her key with Ulysses. Phryne never returned, and two years later, Ulysses passed her key, and his own, onto their son Charlemagne in 1956. Charlemagne bequeathed his mother Phryne's key to his partner Hypatia shortly before their marriage in 1962. When Hypatia died in 1976, her key returned to Charlemagne's custody, until he passed both of their keys onto their son Austin in 1987. After Austin hired his partner Mitzi in 1987, Phryne and Hypatia's key became Mitzi's.

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Yellow Key Golden Age owner: Léon Volkov Silver Age successor: Hamilton Van Doren Modern inheritor: Nora Van Doren

Ulysses gave the third key to the Bookhouse to his former college professor Léon in 1938, but that key didn't remain in Léon's custody long. Shortly before Léon disappeared in 1940, he returned his key to Ulysses, who kept it in storage for his son Charlemagne, who received custody of Léon's key after Ulysses' disappearance in 1956. When Charlemagne and his wife Hypatia co-founded the Knighthood of Science in 1964, Charlemagne's first recruit to the Knighthood was his former college classmate Hamilton, who became the team's attorney, and the bearer of the Bookhouse's third key. When Hamilton died alongside Hypatia in 1976, he ensured his daughter Nora would receive custody of his key.

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Indigo Key Golden Age owner: Hedy Fine Silver Age successor: Edgar Prufrock Modern inheritor: Beatrix Klingfeld

Ulysses gave the fourth key to the Bookhouse to his former college classmate Hedy for safe keeping in 1938, but she mostly just kept that key in storage. After Hedy's disappearance in 1966, her estate passed her key onto Ulysses' son Charlemagne, per her written instructions. Upon receiving Hedy's key in 1966, Charlemagne immediately passed that key onto his former college classmate Edgar, thereby finally officially inducting Edgar into the Knighthood of Science, as the team's archivist. Edgar retained custody of his key until his arrest in 1987, when he passed that key onto Charlemagne's son Austin, who in turn immediately passed Edgar's key onto Beatrix, the daughter of Austin's partner Mitzi.

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Orange Key Golden Age owner: Osamu "Ozzie" Otomo Silver Age successor: Ambrose Absinthe Modern inheritor: Ken Kawasaki

Phryne suggested to her husband Ulysses, and he immediately agreed, that he should give the fifth key to the Bookhouse to their shared junior sidekick Ozzie in 1938. When Ozzie retired from costumed crime-fighting in 1941, he returned his key to Ulysses, who kept it in storage for his son Charlemagne, along with all the other keys, until Ulysses' disappearance in 1956. When Charlemagne and his wife Hypatia co-founded the Knighthood of Science in 1964, Charlemagne recruited another former college classmate, Ambrose, to serve as one of the team's "science heroes," specializing in chemistry and physics. When Charlemagne handed him the Bookhouse's fifth key, Ambrose took that trust seriously. Even after Ambrose turned to supervillainy three years later, in 1967, he upheld his fidelity to Charlemagne's trust by returning his key, insisting that the key be passed onto the Knighthood's then-teenaged engineering and electronics prodigy Ken, the son of Ozzie.

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Violet Key Golden Age owner: Joshua Lennon Silver Age successor: Herbert Heinlein Modern inheritor: Byron Brass

Phryne insisted that her husband Ulysses give the sixth key to the Bookhouse to her former husband Joshua in 1938. Shortly before Joshua's disappearance in 1942, he returned his key to Ulysses, who kept it in storage for his son Charlemagne, along with all the other keys, until Ulysses' disappearance in 1956. When Charlemagne and his wife Hypatia co-founded the Knighthood of Science in 1964, Charlemagne recruited yet another former college classmate, Herbert, to serve as one of the team's "science heroes," specializing in biology, ecology and other environmental sciences. Shortly after Herbert's divorce in 1970, he formally resigned from the Knighthood and returned his key to Charlemagne, recommending that the key be passed onto the team's then-recently acquired ally Byron, a military veteran whom Herbert also recommended for full membership in the Knighthood, to serve as the team's combat (and conflict resolution) advisor.

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Red Key Golden Age owner: Shoshana Shuster Silver Age successor: Dale Arden Carlson Bronze Age interloper: Lilith Killian Modern inheritor: Xavier Killian

Ulysses started partnering with Shoshana on investigations and crime-fighting in 1935, a year before he made Apex City his home — and a year before he met and married his subsequent partner Phryne — in 1936. Out of consideration for his wife's feelings, Ulysses waited for two more years to give the seventh key to the Bookhouse to Shoshana in 1938, after he'd already given keys to Phryne and two of her allies. After Shoshana was murdered in 1941, custody of her key returned to Ulysses, who kept it in storage for his son Charlemagne, along with all the other keys, until Ulysses' disappearance in 1956. After Charlemagne and his wife Hypatia co-founded the Knighthood of Science, and Charlemagne's former college classmate Herbert was recruited as one of the team's "science heroes," Herbert married Hypatia's former college classmate Dale in 1968. Over Dale's initial protestations, she grudgingly accepted the Bookhouse's seventh key, as a wedding present, at the insistence of Charlemagne, Hypatia and Herbert. Dale never accepted full membership in the Knighthood, but as an environmental scientist, like her husband Herbert, she freely lent her expertise to the team, as a botanist. When Herbert and Dale divorced in 1970, Dale returned her key to Charlemagne. In 1975, Charlemagne grew desperate enough, in his bid to save the world, that he inducted his former lover Lilith into the Knighthood, over Hypatia's sustained objections, but after Lilith died alongside Hypatia and their teammate Hamilton in 1976, Lilith's key could not be found. What no one else knew was that Lilith had ensured her key would pass onto Xavier, her secret son with Charlemagne.

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For the better part of a decade, living and working in Port Townsend has allowed me to spend the holidays with family for most of those year

"During the winter holidays of 2001, Navy Journalist 2nd Class Kirk Boxleitner demonstrates how smoking can make one appear cool and sophisticated, in the midst of Operation Enduring Freedom on board USS Theodore Roosevelt."

Some further thoughts on the holidays, which the paper ran today.

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Fictional Province - TV Tropes

This is when Where the Hell Is Springfield? actually has an answer, and that answer is pretty nonsensical even by fiction's usual standards.

I've come to realize that a key component in my world-building has been friends and acquaintances introducing ideas that my own brain eventually bullies me into carrying out.

This time, it was the son of one of my friends and writing partners, who has been peppering me with questions about our shared universe, much like how I imagine Roy Thomas sought to interpret what Stan Lee had helped establish about the Marvel Comics universe.

Armand asked about Calizona, the fictional 40th state in my alternate universe in which the United States of America has at least 52 states, inquiring about the sorts of state symbols that many well-established states adopt, to which I initially honestly replied, "The answer to a lot of your questions right now is going to be 'TBD.'"

Because however fond I am of world-building, my approach tends to be to start small, then build outward from there, and the only reason I created the fictional state of Calizona, which Armand already knows that his parent (and my writing partner) does not care for nearly as much as I do, was because I needed someplace to put my equally fictional metropolis of Apex City.

Armand was asking solid, common-sense questions, but he had overestimated the degree to which I had already mapped out my own world.

In previous brainstorming threads with my writing partners, we've reached points where we've agreed that continuing to pursue whatever stories we were considering would require creating new fictional cities, or even entire fictional countries, and my first response has often been, "And it's not like I can just create all of that in a single sitting, ha ha ha!"

And then, a few hours to a few days later, I'm sitting sullenly in silence when I finally admit to myself, "Dammit, I'm going to have to create all this shit after all."

Establishing official state symbols for any state is daunting, because there are so many categories of stuff that real-world states have established, from official state flags, animals, plants and stones, to state mottos, songs, poems and even colors.

As befitting Calizona's status as "The In-Betweener State" — it literally exists between California and Arizona, which I don't need you to tell me is a geographical impossibility — I imagine its population being constitutionally indecisive.

This is why at least two of its officially designated state animals have unofficial holdout challengers, as well as why the state simply gave up and allowed two different choices each to receive official state designations in a number of its food and drink categories.

Beyond that, I should just submit the list for reference purposes, and answer any questions it might generate in the threads that follow.

CALIZONA

Incorporated as territory: 1866.

Admitted as state: 1881.

Centennial: 1981.

Capital city: Gladstone.

Nickname: The In-Betweener State.

Motto: Non difficultates, nisi solutiones (No problems, only solutions).

Colors: Hot pink, fluorescent orange.

Song: "Don't Stop Believin'," by Journey.

Poem: "Coyote," by Alexander Posey.

Musical instrument: Native American flute.

Dance: Breakdance.

Sport: Jai alai.

Theater: Promethean Playhouse.

Bat: Mexican free-tailed bat (Tadarida brasiliensis).

Wild cat: Cougar (Puma concolor).

Dog breed: Golden Retriever.

Horse breed: American Paint Horse.

Bird: American kestrel, or sparrowhawk (Falco sparverius).

Animal (wild land mammal): Coyote (Canis latrans).

Marine mammal: Humpback whale (Megaptera novaeangliae).

Fish: Gulf corvina (Cynoscion othonopterus).

Shell: Pacific calico scallop (Argopecten ventricosus).

Crustacean: Dungeness crab (Metacarcinus magister).

Amphibian: Sonoran Desert toad (Incilius alvarius).

Reptile (official): Western banded gecko (Coleonyx variegatus).

Reptile (unofficial): Mediterranean house gecko (Hemidactylus turcicus).

Butterfly: Red admiral (Vanessa atalanta).

Insect (official): Palo verde borer beetle (Derobrachus geminatus).

Insect (unofficial): Africanized honey bee (Apis mellifera scutellata).

Mythical beast: Thunderbird.

Dinosaur: Deinonychus antirrhopus.

Fossil: Terror bird (Titanis walleri).

Rock: Mesozoic Mesa limestone.

Minerals: Molybdenum, lithium.

Gemstones: Bradbury Valley brecciated jasper, Scar Range fire agate.

Botanical garden: Harmony Gold Horticultural Conservatory.

Flower: Barbary fig prickly pear cactus blossom (Opuntia ficus-indica).

Tree: Mexican fan palm (Washingtonia robusta).

Shrub/herb: Creosote bush (Larrea tridentata).

Grass: Bermuda grass (Cynodon dactylon).

Mushroom: Psilocybe aztecorum.

Nuts: Pistachios, pecans.

Fruits: Dates, figs.

Vegetables: Artichokes, spinach.

Bread: Frybread.

Sandwiches: French dip, tacos de pescado.

Pies: Dutch apple, cherry.

Ice cream: Rainbow sherbet.

Snack: Prickly pear cactus candy.

Flavor: Tutti frutti.

Beverage: Citrus Caesar.

Cocktails: Shirley Temple, Tom and Jerry (winter).

Toy: Yo-yo.

Firearm: Webley-Vickers 50.80.

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The Leader earns 37 awards at statewide newspaper contest - Port Townsend Leader

The Port Townsend & Jefferson County Leader collected 37 awards at the 2025 Washington Newspaper Publishers Association (WNPA) Better Ne

Actual quote from the Port Townsend and Jefferson County Leader newspaper's coverage of the Washington Newspaper Publishers Association's Better Newspaper Contest awards that we won:

"The rest of the newsroom is considering entering a new category for next year – Best Support Role in Carrying Kirk’s Awards Home."

Please note, I did not write that.

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So, I did well at the Washington Newspaper Publishers Association's Better Newspaper Contest this year:

Third place in Editorial for “Veterans’ everyday missions mirror civilians’ civic duties” on Nov. 13, 2024.

Second place in Education Story for “Home for the holidays: Endeavour, with its local crew, returns for winter work” on Dec. 25, 2024.

Second place in Personality Profile, Long for “102-year-old globetrotter calls Marrowstone Island home” on March 12, 2025.

First place in Lifestyle Feature Story for “Kookin’ up khaos for Kinetic Skulpture Race” on Oct. 2, 2024.

And first place in Arts Feature or Story for “Pipia sisters put together show inspired by dad’s disease” on Dec. 18, 2024.

And that's without counting my category sweep:

Third place in Art Reviews for “‘Civil War’ captures society in collapse” on April 16, 2024.

Second place in Art Reviews for “Looking at Donald Sutherland’s legacy” on June 25, 2024.

And first place in Art Reviews for “David Lynch’s ‘Twin Peaks’ captured cryptic, serene soul of PNW” on Jan. 22, 2025.

But it's easier to succeed when you're supported by colleagues like those I've worked with at the Port Townsend and Jefferson County Leader newspaper, a number of whom took home a number of awards of their own from the WNPA this year.

Getting old means hearing your coworkers debate which characters from "The Office" each of you most resembles, when all you can think of is how much the job reminds you of Grace Bros. from "Are You Being Served?"

In that spirit, and courtesy of Marcus Badgley Photography, I present … columnist Scott Doggett, reporters Mallory Kruml, Alex Frick and Kirk Boxleitner, publisher Lloyd Mullen, outgoing editor Meredith Jordan, incoming editor James Robinson and sales rep Kachele Yelaca.

As the title card for the closing credits of "Are You Being Served?" always helpfully informed us, YOU HAVE BEEN WATCHING:

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My movie reviews swept first through third place in the Washington Newspaper Publishers Association's Art Reviews category for the Port Townsend and Jefferson County Leader newspaper's circulation group.

Ed Harris: What's your name? Alec Baldwin: FUCK. YOU. THAT'S my name.

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PT Film Fest delivers to wide audience while also celebrating achievement - Port Townsend Leader

It was a big year for the Port Townsend Film Festival, which saw gross sales rise to slightly more than $91,000, compared to $83,000 from 20

If you missed this year's Port Townsend Film Festival, you can still read about it in the Port Townsend and Jefferson County Leader newspaper, through my writing and photos.

"It's the Brak Show, starring me, I'm Brak!"

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Covering the final day of the Port Townsend Film Festival for the Port Townsend and Jefferson County Leader newspaper, when I met "Piggy Duster" director Jesse Stewart.

I'd given his film a positive review, and he shares my love of "Andor," which he spotted among the patches on my Nerd Vest.

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I positively reviewed Rich Newey and Annika Marks' "Adult Children" for the Port Townsend and Jefferson County Leader newspaper, then met them during the Port Townsend Film Festival, while wearing my Nerd Vest.

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Covering the Port Townsend Film Festival at the Rose Theatre for the Port Townsend and Jefferson County Leader newspaper, I got to tell Tom Skerritt that I grew up watching him in "Picket Fences," and I loved his work with Harry Dean Stanton in "Alien" and "Lucky."

And yes, I did it while wearing a Flynn's Arcade shirt.

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After reviewing their fine films for the Port Townsend and Jefferson County Leader newspaper, I was fortunate enough to talk shop with talented writer-directors Kersti Bryan and Vivian Kerr at the Port Townsend Film Festival.

Bill Murray: "So I got that goin' for me. Which is nice."

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At the Rose Theatre for the Port Townsend Film Festival screening of "A Look Through His Lens."

As a film reviewer for the Port Townsend and Jefferson County Leader newspaper, this is my Super Bowl.

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I should have added this to my car ages ago. :)

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The Summer Camps Surrounding Apex

The history of white settlers' explorations of the environs surrounding what would become Apex is a history of whites poking their noses into places where the local Native Americans knew better than to be.

Head southwest on the current Apex City coastline that encompasses "Bitter" Bierce Bay, and you'll find yourself in the Whispering Woods, which lead out to Apex Point at the southwesternmost tip.

Apex Point is itself notable as the site for the second historic lighthouse serving Apex.

Monolith Island, which sits in the middle of Bierce Bay, became the site of the Monolith Island Light in 1855, followed by Fort Maximilian M. Maximus in 1861, before the Civil War military outpost was converted into the Fort Triple-Max maximum security prison in 1946.

Meanwhile, Apex Point became the site of the Lensman Lighthouse in 1875, which itself has hosted Apex's first radio station, KAPX 750 AM, since 1930.

Dr. Albert Atlas Fell, of the Quatermass University of Abstract and Applied Sciences in Apex City, broadcasts from the lighthouse radio station on weekends, logging meteorological conditions, issuing advisories to the ships at sea, and playing peaceful, contemplative music.

The Whispering Woods constitute a microclimate, closer to the cool, rainy Pacific Northwest than to the hot, arid standards of the rest of Calizona.

Within their depths lies a seemingly idyllic body of water comparable to Oregon's Crater Lake in its natural beauty, but closer in its origins to Arizona's Meteor Crater, since it was formed by a meteorite impact rather than a volcanic eruption.

The peoples of the Apex Pueblo warned whites against settling in Whispering Woods or around what would become known as Lake Kinkade, after Nathaniel "Natty" Kinkade discovered the latter in 1851.

But as was so often the case, the whites shrugged off what they saw as primitive superstitions, even as continued protests from local Native Americans, contrary to their typical calls, have kept either Whispering Woods or Lake Kinkade from being declared public landmarks.

Natty Kinkade was the first to observe that the densely forest-lined seclusion of deep, clear blue waters appeared to be "painted with light," which made it an appealingly photogenic site for a succession of summer camps.

Camp Placid Waters for Clean Living opened on the banks of Lake Kinkade in 1927, and has gained notoriety in the decades since as "Camp Deadpool," due to recurrences of reported and rumored harvests of young campers and camp counselors by mask-wearing mass-murderers.

Camp Smiling Coyote for Sacred Clowns was founded in 1954, by retired Marine Corps Cpl. Samuel Charles Smiling Coyote, who originally hailed from the Apex Pueblo, so one might wonder why he didn't know better than to venture out to Lake Kinkade, if they didn't know him.

In the service, not only did he claim that his first and middle initials of S.C. stood for "Sam Clemens," as he insisted was befitting his storytelling talent, but he also served as a "Code Talker" during World War II.

Since ignorant white folks insisted on sending their innocent kids into the cursed, merciless wilderness, the man who'd developed a damnable compulsion to stand up for the weak against the strong decided he'd create a haven for scrappy underdogs and socially awkward misfits.

Of course, nothing good can be done for the disadvantaged, especially if it's being done by a historically oppressed minority, without inspiring a backlash from the privileged class, which is what inspired the creation of Camp Atlas-Seaboard for Competition and Survival in 1958.

Which is how Lake Kinkade wound up with a summer camp plagued by serial killings, a camp providing shelter and encouragement for weirdos and outcasts, and one pandering to pampered rich brats, even before the area gained a haunted hotel in 1968.

The Bean-Shìdh family imported what was originally their ancestral keep of Samhain's Hearth Inn and Tavern from Callander, Scotland (also the birthplace of Angus Odysseus Battle-Craft), rebuilding it on the rocky shores of Apex Point, near the Lensman Lighthouse.

As ill-advised as Charlie Smiling Coyote considered other white folks' settlements in the area to be, he recognized that the mother-daughter duo of Bonnie and Bridey Bean-Shìdh brought their own unique spiritual energy to the place, even if they themselves didn't fully realize it right away.

Over on the other end of the outskirts of Apex City and Coral Shores, the Scar Range Desert that had become the site for a succession of obscure military installations would ultimately find itself a hotbed for countercultural activity.

Well northeast of Coral Shores, former Sixties flower child Dulcimer Discordia "Cordy" Condor started the temporary autonomous zone of Solstice City in 1986, to host what would become the annual Flaming Paintbrush Midsummer Free-for-All.

Perhaps the festival's most notable feature is the "Infernal Titan," a gigantic wooden effigy that's set ablaze during the culminating ceremonies of the summer's revelry, communal camp-out and exchanges of experimental artistry in the Scar Range Desert.

Ironically, while this occasion threatens to compromise the operational security of Dr. Bianca Yong and her Agents of ABOVE in their repurposed military base, Cordy Condor stages Flaming Paintbrush, at least in part, to provide cover for the clandestine activities of her older brother.

When Air Force Capt. Mandolin Corelli Condor was flying combat missions in Vietnam, his kid sister Cordy was protesting the war, but her peace activism was always intended to protect her big brother, who was practically a surrogate father to her, due to their generational dividing line.

Not long after he started piloting the Skyshark experimental attack helicopter in 1984, the elder Condor finally reached out to contact his estranged sister, who was only too happy to see him again, and after some thought, she figured out her own way to run interference for the Skyshark.

The chaotically organized seasonal congregation in the desert obscures many traces of the Skyshark's concealment in the area, however irritated a Vietnam veteran like Condor might be to indirectly rely upon his sister's hippie freak friends to continue his covert missions in America.

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The Private Eyes of Apex City

Austin Kingsley and Mitzi Klingfeld aren't the only grownup gumshoes looking into mysteries and criminal misdeeds in Apex City.

Reid Warne knows how to navigate a forensic scene, managing to tread carefully even though the treads he's leaving are the tracks of his wheelchair, while one of his fellow licensed private investigators, wisecracking tough guy Bruno Hudson, constitutes one half of Nighthawks Investigations (whose name was inspired by the "Nightshade Investigates..." comic strip, distributed by Kingsley Features Syndicate), and which was bankrolled by former Glamourpuss Magazine cover girl Cybele Seagrams.

To preserve the statements they solicit from witnesses and other sources, Bruno and Cybele have a habit of recording their cases live via compact video, which can lead to snarky running commentary as they play to the camera.

Even more media-savvy, but vastly less given to snappy or sexually suggestive patter, is Richard Corinthian, who acquired the title of "The Auspex Inspector" from his six-season syndicated TV series, "The Wandering Auspex Inspects..." (likewise inspired by "Nightshade Investigates..."), which ran from the late 1970s through the early 1980s.

Richard claims to be psychic, to assist in law enforcement investigations, by playing up his supposed Romani "fortune-teller" heritage, and yet, while almost all of his ostensibly uncanny abilities can be chalked up to keen observational insights and skilled stagecraft, his Romani heritage is more genuine than he lets on (his birth name was "Roman Corinthian," which he correctly estimated would be a touch too "ethnic" to appeal to more mainstream audiences), while his insights include flashes of what would seem to be psychic visions.

Not that "The Auspex Inspector" is above commercial shilling, since the success of Time-Life Books' "The Enchanted World" and "Mysteries of the Unknown" series led Enigma Media to begin publishing "Myths & Mysteries of the Otherworldly" in 1987, for which Richard Corinthian serves as the line's suitably spooky, brooding spokesman ("From fairy-tale fables to paranormal phenomena... If it's out there, it's in here").

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    I write to disagree with Kirk Boxleitner's assertion in his review of Killers of the Flower Moon about Goodfellas. In Go

I've been reviewing films professionally since 2017, and this marks my very first negative reader response to one of my reviews. I could not love it more.