But It's a Dry Heat

Dear friends,

Every year, civilization collectively crowns one radio hit as The Song of the Summer. Remember "Baby Got Back" (1992) and "Hot in Herre" (2002)? They reflected the society's obsessions at the time; enormous butts and meteorology, respectively. 

I'm hoping that this year, society is so confused and dystopian that it considers this month's Hard Taco song, "My Grandmother's Grape," for this honor. If it's not anthemic enough to serve as The Song of the Summer, I hope that it can at least be a finalist for the Song of July 1, 2022 Between 9:00-9:04 am.

Speaking of it being Hot in Herre, Lauren and I purposely decided to spend our annual summer getaway in Arizona. Full travel recommendations will follow, but in this digest, we're going to focus on the place we rented a car and got out of as fast as possible, Phoenix.

Welcome to the city where it takes two air conditioning units in every outlet to keep the indoor temperatures below the melting point of human cells. The city's official motto is, "We Know, But It's a Dry Heat," but the lady at the airport information booth just kept saying, "If You're Here in the Summer, You Did This to Your Own Damn Self."  

Photo taken inside the Family Restroom at the Phoenix Airport.

The sun is not a friend in Phoenix. Instead of supporting cellular respiration of plants through photosynthesis, the Phoenix sun is an angry and vindictive star that endeavors to lay waste to all vegetation through the opposite chemical process... photo-annihilation. 

If you think SPF 50 will protect you from the sun's wrath, you probably also believe a cardigan made of beef jerky would safeguard you from grizzly bear bites. (Spoiler alert: It won't. Grizzlies have nimble claws and excel at unbuttoning sweaters.) 

Phoenix offers an expansive sprawl of cookie cutter homes and office parks. That's not just to say they all look alike, which they do, but that they are built from discarded aluminum cookie cutters. This helps reflect the sun's UV radiation, so your corneas can be ravaged from all angles.

Do you like rolling your ankles on an uneven bed of jagged volcanic moon rocks? If so, you'll love walking in Phoenix! Every step makes a jarring crunch that reverberates in your skull as if God was chewing Froot Loops with his mouth open. 

But before you go on that walk, be sure to shake your shoes upside to dislodge that family of scorpions. Don't worry... these scorpions weren't planning to move in permanently. They were just renting them for the night from other scorpions who bought every shoe in the neighborhood and turned them into Airbnbs. Most local scorpions can't afford a shoe. 

You will also need to coax rattlesnakes out of your socks and coyotes out of your formalwear and reading glasses. And before you get into your car, you will need to dig up the flesh-ripping agave bushes that took root on the driver's seat overnight. 

Finally, summer in an even-numbered year is Primary season! Garish red campaign signs cover every square inch of public space. These aren't the modest pillowcase-sized signs you'll find in other cities, but twin sheet-sized cardboard billboards sprouting out of the pumice like saguaros, each promising to out-Republican the others with slogans like "Kari Lake will drink liberal tears." This shows you just how bad things have gotten in Arizona; even the gubernatorial candidates must resort to extreme measures to stay hydrated. 

So our final recommendation for travelers? Phoenix is a 108-degree heap of shit.

But it's a dry heap. 

With warmest regards,

Zach

I Can't Believe It's Been 25 Years. You Look Awful.

Dear Friends,

The Hard Taco song for June is called, "Glad Tidings," and I bet has the fewest rhymes of any song you will hear all week. In fact, if there was company that delivered mom jeans to your house, the name of that company, Jordache Door Dash, would have more rhymes than this entire song.

Speaking of mom jeans, I attended my (gulp) 25th College Reunion last weekend. (By the way, that gulp was because I am chugging bubble tea, not because I am trying to draw attention to how many years it has been since I was in college.) I'm not really good with names or faces, but I developed a trick for identifying people who were in my class. If they had the same amount of hair loss as me, I would run up to them and hug them tightly, and I was right 100% of the time.

But for the most part, it was a pretty similar experience to my 10-year reunion and the 15-year reunion that I skipped. In each case, I found myself having to reiterate the same tedious stories about my life to everyone that I was hugging tightly. This time, it seemed like the only alumni who showed up were members of the Reunion Committee, and all they wanted to do was convince me to donate money to the University. 

Wouldn't it be great, they would say, if you gave enough money to tear down the old Science Library and have the torn down library renamed after your family?

One of them even asked if I wanted to make a Legacy Donation? I'm sorry, did you say a Legacy Donation? If that's what I think it is, ew. I'm perfectly happy with the two kids I made the old-fashioned way, and I'm not about to go into some sterile lab full of dirty magazines and donate a bunch of "Legacy" to a stranger.

Anyway, for the 1300 members of the Class of '97 who had the wisdom to stay home, I still think we should catch each other up. Should I go first? Okay, it looks like I'm going first. Here are some of the updates I gave some of my classmates about my career path:

1. I'm the editor-in-chief for The Middle England Journal of Medicine. We only publish 500-year-old research, such as observational studies on bloodlettings, trepanation, and methods for draining yellow bile. 

If I'm being honest, I think people go out of their way to support us because they we are a competitor to the New England Journal of Medicine, and most people just really hate the Patriots.

2. I work for Amazon as the Director of Flatus Skills. Have you ever asked Alexa to play 30 minutes of gentle farts to help you sleep? My division recorded that fart library.

3. I work for the government, and that's all I'm authorized to tell you. (Two drinks later, I spill the beans. You ever wave your hands under a soap dispenser in an airport bathroom, and no soap comes out? You assume it's broken, or maybe just empty, right? Wrong, idiot. The government puts fake soap dispensers in every airport, and they have sensors in them to scan your hands. Then, when you leave the bathroom, we already have your fingerprints when we arrest you for not washing your hands with soap.)

4. I name ski hills. Sigh. Back in Wisconsin, everyone told me how amazing my ski hill names were. They'd be like, "You're the guy who came up with Battle-Hardened and Tenth Youth? That's amazing!" But I had bigger dreams, and that meant moving out to Colorado. I know the competition would tough, but I had no idea it would be this cutthroat. Aspen only opens a few new runs a year, and pretty much everyone out here was the best ski hill-namer in their home state. I'm not giving up on my dream, but for now I'm waiting tables at the slope-side restaurant to pay the bills.

5. I rice things. You know, like cauliflower. Cauliflower doesn't just rice itself, you know.

6. I work for Apple. Mostly my division tries to figure out how to make your old iPhone break when the new one comes out. Everyone knows that old phones slow down when we release new versions of the operating system, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. What most people don't know is that iPhones also get slipperier after 2 years, so you are more likely to drop them. Also, cell phones cause brain tumors, and we place those tumors in specific nuclei to encourage reckless spending.

7. It's kind of embarrassing, but for a while after college, I was working as an erotic baker. But then I moved to the Midwest and now I design corn mazes. Erotic corn mazes.

8. I work for the state legislature, but every bill I have written has been wildly unpopular. It might be because they all start with, "You know what your problem is?"

9. I invented an app called the Whole Enchiladle. It's like Worldle, Quordle, and Octordle, but instead of trying to guess 1, 4, or 8 words, you need to guess all the words. All 158,390 five-letter words in the English language. 

10. I make those funny T-shirts that everybody has. They're definitely funny, but also wise. Here's one you probably know: "A skateboard is just a roller bag where you're the bag." That one cracks everybody up, but it also makes you think.  

11. I give the most elite conservative congressman money to vote for legislation that benefits Hobby Lobby. It's not really a career, per se. I just do it in my free time, and I use my own money. So I guess you could say I'm a Snobby Hobby Lobby Lobbyist Hobbyist.

12. I'm just here for the Port-a-Potty Convention. Lots of great Port-a-Potties out here tonight, and such a cool coincidence that so many people I went to college with showed up also!

Anyway, I would love to hear from the rest of you! Class of '97 rules! (Also note: Class of '98 drools.)

With Warmest Regards,
Zach

Cranial Vault

Dear Friends,

I am hysterically eager to announce the release of the next great tabletop game aimed for neurology lovers, "Cranial Vault." and its theme song, "What's In the Vault?" 

Technically, Cranial Vault is not one game, but NINE games stuffed into one box! With nearly 600 cards, it's as heavy as sandwich maker, but more fun during power outages.  

Disclaimer: This is an exceptionally small banana.

If you're a connoisseur of popular word-based party contests, some of the Cranial Vault games will already feel familiar. Some involve drawing, charades, fast-talking, or sound effects. Some involve structured clue-giving, holding cards up to your forehead, or coming up with puns. But they all have one thing in common... they are guaranteed to galvanize friendships. So if you don't want your casual acquaintances to become ride-or-die bosom buddies who talk over each other during your eulogy, stay away from Cranial Vault.

Check out the Cranial Vault website for pictures, demonstration videos, and so much more! 

Actually, I take that back. Other than pictures and demonstration videos, there actually isn't anything more. Still, we're very proud of this project, and hope it convinces you to put down that triangular sandwich and go to med school. 

With warmest regards, 
Zach

To Be Okay

Dear Friends,

My dear brother-in-law Brian died a couple weeks ago. His 15-year-old daughter gave a eulogy at the funeral, and she ended with a message to him. "We're going to be okay," she said. It was a powerful statement from someone who was probably having her worst week ever. 

Every day since then, I've discovered new holes in my life left by Brian's absence, and I keep coming back to what my niece said. Are she and her brothers really going to be okay? Is my sister going to be okay? Am I going to be okay? 

It's hard to talk about, but the self-indulgent act of writing a song about it has been unexpectedly therapeutic. The song is called "Okay," but feel free to call it OK for short, or even just 'K if you're really pressed for time. I tried to capture what it feels like to be without him, but also express genuine optimism about our ability to carry on. We will never stop missing him, but it shouldn't always feel like it does now. 

With that in mind, I intend to return to trying (too hard) to be funny again next month. Thank you all for your love and support! 

With warmest regards,

Zach

Raw Bat Bar

Dear Friends,

The Hard Taco song for March is a twist-filled mini-adventure called, "The Wrong Side of History." I will always remember recording this song, because Lauren and I both sang our parts right before losing our voices because of this: 

If you don't have the manual dexterity to zoom in on those test strips, I'll spell it out: the whole London family got COVID19 this week, and it has been a bummer on many levels. 

I was the one who brought it home, and I know exactly how it happened. Lauren and I were down in Florida for a wedding the prior weekend. It was a beautiful event and both the ceremony and the reception were outdoors in spacious circus tents. I felt very safe overall, but I made one crucial mistake that I've been beating myself up about ever since... I ordered the raw cave bat as my entree. 

Obviously, I should have known better. The judgement you cast upon me will never be as harsh as that I cast upon myself. I'm a health care worker, for goodness sakes! I've been around hundreds of COVID19 patients over the last two years, but I've always been very careful about hand-washing, masking, and other standard infection precautions. Then I go down to a wedding in Miami and think it's okay to have a cheat day and ask the caterers to bring me the wet market cave bat filet?

But these are confusing times, and it's just so hard to have realistic assessments of actual risk. The infection rates have been coming way down since mid-January. And then the CDC changed their recommendation from "don't eat raw cave bat" to "talk to your PCP about whether it is okay to return to eating raw cave bat." Can you blame me for thinking that maybe we could return to some semblance of normalcy? I got my vaccines, I got my booster, and for one night, I wasn't in the mood for fish or steak, okay? 

I also ate the fruit bat salad and the bats-in-blankets. More lessons learned!

Maybe I was subconsciously influenced by our surroundings. We were down in Florida, home of the recent Bat-to-School Programs which reintroduced raw cave bat to school lunch programs before any other state was even considering it. And look, I sort of get it, especially in elementary schools. Some kids just can't learn or develop normal social relationships when they are stressed out by government-imposed dietary restrictions. I'm not saying there isn't a cost to keeping raw bat meat off the cafeteria menu or out of the school vending machines. But this illness hit me harder than "just a cold," and I wouldn't wish it on anyone! If I had known the repercussions, I never would have gorged myself on beer-battered bat bladders before the ceremony. (I don't think that is what made me sick, but it totally spoiled my dinner.)

There was also a really amazing charcuterie table with cheese, toast, and over 600 species of insectivorous chiroptera. And there were caterers walking around with trays of hot wings, and they weren't chicken wings, if you know what I mean. But trust me, as delicious as it all was, it was not worth it. 

I guess the good news is that once we recover, we are probably going to have natural immunity for at least a few months. And you know what that means... guano Milano cookies!

With warmest regards,

Zach

Best Children's Countdown Stories

Dear Friends,

The Hard Taco song for February is called, "The King with Six Friends." This song is based on the children's book by the same name, which also happened to be my favorite bedtime story as a child. It's a gorgeously illustrated tale of adventure, magic, heroism, and the bonds of friendship. And if you skip the horribly sexist parts, it mostly holds up.

Countdown Stories- Children's Book Edition 

I am excited to retell some of my other childhood favorites in a format I call Countdown Stories. The first of the 10 lines must have 10 words, the second line must have 9 words, and so on, with the goal of finishing the story by the final one-word line. For other great examples Countdown of Stories, check out this 2019 digest about some of my favorite movies. 

The Very Hungry Caterpillar

On Sunday, a baby caterpillar popped out of an egg

Every day that week, he consumed progressively larger portions

Nothing was good enough for this selfish slob

He left the kitchen a total mess

And locked himself in his bedroom

Two Sundays later, he emerged

Meanwhile, a baby bird

Born that morning

Ate one

Butterfly

Charlotte's Web

Before we start, can we agree that animals don't speak?

And different species certainly can't talk to each other

Let alone in English (especially not barn spiders.)

A spider's voice would be inaudibly quiet

Seriously, its lungs are basically microscopic!

And I noticed something else...

The name "Charlotte's Web"

Sounds like a 

Porn site

www.charlottesweb.xxx

Goodnight Moon

Imagine a room that disobeys all natural rules of perspective

Fill it with shadows, anthropomorphic animals, and trippy art

Like an exploded antebellum circus wagon on LSD

Do you find this cozy or terrifying?

Now say goodnight to each atrocity

See that woman whispering hush?

That's not a woman

That's Donnie Darko's

Rabbit Vision

(Shudder.)

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

In the 1964 edition, Oompa Loompas were black African pygmies

That Wonka "discovered" and shipped to England in crates

Dahl literally wrote they were "rescued" into servitude

His loyal readers had no compunction whatsoever  

About this sickeningly blatant pro-slavery stance

Following years of NAACP protests

Dahl finally rewrote it.

This shit's insane. 

Read more

Here

Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

November 8, 2016, was a terrible horrible very bad day

I started thinking that maybe Alexander wasn't being dramatic

When he declared he would move to Australia

Relocating Down Under actually sounds awesome, right?

But the red tape is prohibitive

And realistically, there are

Right wing nuts everywhere

Even in Australia

Even in

Australia

The Bridge to Terabithia

Milo, who has plenty of time, sets off for Dictionopolis 

There's a mischievous monkey and a man wearing yellow

And twelve little girls in two straight lines

Wait, I think I'm getting this confused

I haven't actually read that book

I meant the Phantom Tollbooth.

Or maybe Curious George.

Or Madeline. Whatever. 

I prefer

Movies

With warmest regards,

Zach

Fortress Party 2021 - And Now We Are Up To Date

Dear Friends,

The Hard Taco song for January is called, "The Plexus." It is the theme song for a soon-to-be-released card game by the same name. Along with The Lesion and Battle Thunder Worm, I now have a catalog of three songs that were written to accompany self-released tabletop games.

On September 1, 2020, Lauren and I made the decision not to host guests at our annual Fortress Party for the first time since 1995. Over the subsequent months, I leveraged the found time to compile the recorded history of Fortress Party into 76 blog posts, featuring hundreds of pictures and videos. 

That was a lot of work, but it was important to me to document everything for posterity, which means it is for the benefit of future generations. But I think posterity also means something to do with butts, which is pretty good reason for doing something, too.

Fast forward 15 months, and we find ourselves two Fortress Parties behind in our retrospective. So today, I dedicate my digest to getting us caught up. For my children, my children's children, and all of their butts.

• Fortress Party 2020: You weren't invited
• Fortress Party 2021: Stranger Things
• Fortress Party 2021: The Organ Trail
• Fortress Party 2021: Planet Fitness
• Fortress Party 2021: Chuck E. Cheese
• Fortress Party 2021: The Kentucky Derby
• Fortress Party 2021: Psychadelia
• Fortress Party 2021: WandaVision

And here's the Cliff's Notes version of the whole thing, including footage of the remaining 2021 Fortress room, House Swarmin' Party:

With warmest regards,

Zasch