Stories By Van

What's up everybody? I hope the day is going well for you. I have a question for you all? Do you like Star Wars? I do, and I think most people do too. But, I think that we can all agree that there was something funky going on with Episodes 1 - 3. Sloppy writing, over-usage of CGI, and poor acting mixed together to create a steaming bowl of bad movies. I have seen countless hours of reviews, behind the scenes clips, and videos re-writing each movie. There's extensive research by people explaining why these movies are trash. One question I got recently, from my brother Trace, was, "If they're so bad, how did they even get made?" Which is a fair question. How could something so bad get green-lit? Well, I have some theories that I think answer that question. George Lucas put all his chips on the table back in the 70's to make Star Wars. It was revolutionary, but also super weird. He was still a young director, so of course the producers were on his ass ever

Hey everybody! How is everyone doing today? Greeeeat. So, I don't know what to talk about today. no real specific theme to talk about, so I'll just talk about Japanese stuff. Why is it that Americans get so obsessed with Japanese culture? Anime, manga, and all things in -between. People love all things Japan. And, I'm not saying that's a bad thing. I mean, I have two separate apps on my phone that are teaching me Japanese. There's just something about the culture that pulls us all in like a magnet. Maybe that is's so different than ours..? Recently, I have done a full swan dive into the vast world of Japanese entertainment: Anime, manga, and Terrace House (the Japanese Jersey Shore). I am in-depth. It's just so interesting to see the differences in how those other humans live on the planet. I don't know. I'm not sure where to go with this. I might just end it here because my brain is just completely off today. Before I go to day, I will make th

What is going on people? I hope everything is going splendid for you, and I hope that you all enjoyed America's birthday. What do you guys think about your town or city's community facilities? Do you think there are adequate facilities near you that properly breed communication between people? I was talking with my cousin, Terry, the other day about this, and we both agreed that there really isn't. There aren't that many places to go and meet strangers that have similar interests as you. Like a proper comic book shop, or even a decent barber shop with that classic barber shop atmosphere. Does that make sense? He was talking about businesses that are made for people to go in and discuss their interests with like minded people. He explained them like safe-places where you're free to talk about what you're interested in without any outside negative discussion from someone that isn't interested in that. A good example is a comic book store. I can go to a hou

Happy Fourth of July everyone! Hope it's going well, and you're all shooting your fireworks and grilling hot dogs. For me, I decided to just go the grilling route this year. I grilled a bunch of bratwursts, and I'm going to sit on the couch and watch Seinfeld all day. I think that's the most American thing to do on this day. Better than fireworks, at least. I mean, they are from China. Anyway, I was watching this documentary this morning about comedians making jokes about Nazis and the Holocaust and whether or not that was okay. It dealt a lot with survivors of the Holocaust and what they thought, and it was very interesting. Some would say that all they had while in the camps was humor. They used the laughter to ease their struggle. Then, of course, there were other survivors that couldn't imagine anyone finding anything about that time funny. Makes sense. Understandable. There were a lot of funny comedians, writers, and directors that talked throughout the fil

Ahh, it feels good to reach the end of a journey, don;t ya think? I hope you all enjoy finishing this one with me in the final pages of this story. I still haven't gone through it completely, I was waiting until the last entry to read it, and now we're here. From the snippets I've gone through it doesn't seem as bad as I remember. What do you think? Leave a comment and let me know. And now, enjoy the end of this true story. The Back Road (Part 5) When the truck finally stopped in front of the driveway it was clearly not full of salt.  It was just a normal white police truck sporting large metal chain links covering each tire.  We approached as the passenger window began to roll down.  Inside was an overweight balding man driving the truck and an older man that was both graying and wrinkling.  He poked his head out a little, but quickly retreated after feeling the brisk wind.  I tried not to fall into the window as the heat spilled out and surrounded my body.  The ol

Hello, hello, and welcome to part four of my The Back Road series. Carry on please. The Back Road (Part 4) The group separated as everyone returned to their respective cars.  All except for Mustachio.  I watched him in my rear view mirror jump into the bed of his truck and lift up a large and heavy looking bag.  He spread the top of the bag open and pulled out a large red scooper filled with what looked like tiny white rocks.  He stuck the landing off of his truck bed and walked toward the road with his scooper.  It was obvious now that he was salting the road himself as he dumped the remains in the scooper back and forth across the left half of the street.  He made it ten feet before having to return for another fill up.  That’ll take forever if he wants to salt the whole road, but it’ll be worth it when it’s done.  I opened my car again and buttoned my coat before walking across the driveway to where Mustachio was hunched over scooping more salt.  “Hey man, you need some help wit

Part three of The Back Road is here and I know you're all excited. I can just feel it. Enjoy. The Back Road (Part 3) Ten minutes later I woke up from a half-sleep daze to the sound of a loud clunk.  I pulled the seat lever again and sprung myself to a normal sitting position.  Out the hazy windshield I could see Spencer standing over his open trunk.  He pulled out a thick black pullover and laid it on the car.  He removed the jacket he was wearing and exchanged it with the pullover.  He reached back into his trunk and pulled out a large blue winter coat with a furry gray hood.  He quickly slipped that on over his pullover as well as some black gloves that fell out of the coat’s pockets.  He was already wearing plain gray sweatpants and a thick winter hat with green stripes and a ball top bouncing wildly to the slightest move of his head.  Wow, I thought, he really came prepared.  I spun around to see what I had in the back seat of my car to keep me warm.  There was an old, crum