Five Star Mixtape 366: Five Great Posts and a Richard Ford Quote

This week's Five Star Mixtape great blog roundup is brought to you by the joy when you stop counting, getting paid, harsher reality, the importance of action over words, a moment in time, and Richard Ford:

by Arild Vågen [ CC BY-SA 3.0 ],  via Wikimedia Commons
I have a theory… that someplace at the heart of most compelling stories is something that doesn't make sense.
— Richard Ford —

Happy reading!

"Bliss on a Dirt Path: What Trail Running Taught Me About Intention" by Sarah Smarsh at On Being with Krista Tippett:

In that space of mental determination, I stopped listening to my body’s signals and needs. As I approached my thirtieth birthday, I was aching, the remedies of Western medicine proving useless for my running injuries.

Then a massage therapist recommended that I run on earth trails instead of on pavement.

"Don't Give Your Work Away" by Dave Nash at Gnasher's Eye:

Those two words keep showing up these days, “No Budget”. Really no budget to pay people for their work! So a multi-million pound company like the BBC has no budget to pay people? I find that rather hard to believe, in fact I find it offensive that they have the nerve to ask people.

"Bubbles Break" by Lana Pacheco at Superhero Lunchbox:

We are looking at a copy of Vanity Fair together, laughing at some item about some celebrity. When I reach over to take her hand, she pulls away and, suddenly, it feels strained. "What's wrong?" I ask, "I was just going to hold your hand. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were on the DL." "I'm not comfortable calling attention to ourselves among so many strangers." she says angrily, under her breath, "I don't know any of the people on this boat."

"Fuck Your Prayers for Orlando" by John P. Sundholm at Medium:

I’m angry that people who have never had to second-guess their surroundings, have never had to scan a room or listen for dog whistles, have never had to butch-up their speech or keep their faggy hands in their pockets just in case, now want to cast us aside and lecture us about having the unmitigated gall to politicize a tragedy that supposedly affects some identity-free “all of us.”

"Cuts With Scissors" by Stacey Gengel at crazytalk:

My 74-year-old father has recently been diagnosed with a neurological disease similar to Parkinson’s, but with a name so long and tongue-twisty I can never remember without looking it up. Progressive Supra-Nuclear Palsy. PSP for short.

“Sounds like a drug I tried in college, once” I joked flatly when my parents broke the news. Not that funny, as it turns out.

Five Star Mixtape great blog roundup

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