Mark Pepper's Lantern Lights #1

So when this whole website started I asked Web Mistress Cathy if I could write a periodical “column” (column comes with ironic quotes to warn those of the non-irony disposition that just such a trait may be impending…along with sarcasm, dry wit, drunken rambling, and possible insight into the human condition if I’m feeling particularly full of post-modern angst—of course none of these things may be present, which is why I remind you that this website includes some nice pictures of the Lantern ladies and maybe you should focus on those instead). After my request, I felt that the mere asking itself was awfully fatiguing, and lo the column never got started. Then for awhile I had in my possession reams of black and white photos that I was commissioned to write pithy captions for. And, well, reams of paper in my apartment tend to gravitate towards other reams of paper, and everyone knows that a gathering of paper left unattended is a very chaotic beast. Besides that put too much pressure on a man to be funny—if I wanted to write funny captions I’d go work for Maxim magazine. At least there I’d be paid for the job and just maybe get to meet Sarah Michelle Gellar during a photo shoot. But on this first ninety degree day of the year (remember kids, summer in Sacto is all about sweating, cursing the Lantern’s faulty air conditioners ((no lawsuits please)), and fabricating excuses why the Kings suck so much ass when it’s crunch time), the mood has finally struck me to get this column idea rolling. Hell, I’m not producing any action packed kickball photos, so I may as well offer something (although I’m pretty sure I was the one who suggested Motley Crue should be the opening music for the site).

So at that point I had to start asking myself some tough questions. What would a Golden Lantern Website Column be about? What issues are of most importance to those who fall between 1810 and 1813 N street? What can my years of training and experience ever offer these fine folks? What the hell is a fuel cell? Finally, after agonizing hours of racking my brain (there may have been a few Yueng-Lings in there somewhere) I thought the first column should be broad, to the point, and fairly toothless (much like a Stockton Boulevard hooker). Yes, there will be time in future columns to let out anger, knit pick with precision malice, and insult only those in need of insulting. But it’s good for an author to show his soft side first, to let down his walls, and appeal to a sense of good will, good tidings, and group sing alongs.

To put it simply, I merely want to acknowledge in this first edition that we should all take a moment to remember and realize what a special place the Lantern is (not riding the short bus kind of special, although there are elements of retardation periodically). The Lantern is not a sprawling apartment complex where the only thing you know about the guy in apartment #12 is the funny smells that emanates in hot weather; no the Lantern is small, cozy, and the kind of place where you’ll know the name of the guy in apartment #12 so you can give it to the nice police officers when you call 911. It’s almost impossible not to know your neighbors living at the Lantern. I could launch a spit wad from my door and hit Justincredible’s door if the wind was blowing right and I was especially salivaey that day. That’s close. It is rare in any city to know all your neighbors; it is even rarer to actually be friends with them. Most complexes deal in suspicion, shit talking, window peeking, and brief displays of social niceties. Not at the Lantern (well we have all those things too actually, but we’re incredibly forthcoming and open about them). Still, how many places can you stay at home and still hang out with your friends? And people become friends pretty fast and close at the Lantern. Why? Simply because (in a twist that is more like family) they are there all the time. Where else could you get to hear your friends having sex through the thin walls? Where else could you see your friend pick up their morning paper from the porch barely clothed in a revealing robe? (thanks Tonja). Where else could you watch and hear the beautiful artistic process of a friend learning to play a life long loved instrument by playing the same god damn fucking Nirvana song ten million freaking times! We’re stuck with each other people, in a very close space, and I think we’ve always made the best of it. Luckily we’re all reasonably intelligent, fairly aesthetically pleasing, non-violent, having our shit together kind of people. And we smoke and drink a lot. This is always a plus.

This kind of situation is good to have for many reasons. The Lantern has the best neighborhood watch program in the city. We all truly have each other’s backs and try to take care of this place and each other. Who has talked to the cops more than Tim James when crazy homeless women come stumbling through the courtyard with insanity laced aggression? How many times have Tonja, Mandy, and myself run homeless people out of the laundry room when they were trying to steal Danika’s moist panties? (I made that last part up) Where else would your neighbors punish you with tough love and toilet paper if you were foolish enough to go out and leave your door unlocked? (we’ll probably drink some of your liquor while we’re at it)

And Club Courtyard. What can be said that hasn’t been said before? What started with Tonja and Stephanie sitting in lawn chairs quickly progressed into Jack Daniels and Scrabble tables, impromptu concerts, and a really fucking big television set where an X-Box volleyball game was infinitely more entertaining than a crap ass King’s game (but I’m not bitter). You’re not going to find gatherings like these at any other apartment complex people. When we all eventually move someday (except Tim James) we’re never going to experience anything like this again. Everyone has their own level of participation, but I think we all know that the Golden Lantern has something special going on. Perhaps a future column would be a good place to speculate why certain parties refuse to participate on any level. Resistance is futile, you know?

So I’ve said my piece. No, Lantern life isn’t perfect. Things can get a little Melrose Place every once in a while, without the crucial pool that would make all of that all right. And you can say all you want about how cool it is that the lack of space makes us all closer—until you hear people trouncing back from the bars at 3 a.m. with a belly full of booze and failed testosterone. Then there’s Mike and Justin’s freaking surround-sound system in their living room, but I’m not going to go into that right now. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It’s life at the Golden Lantern. We’ve got beer, we’ve got ladies, we’ve got a web site. Things are looking up.

Till next time.

Lantern Lights #2

Lantern Lights #3

Lantern Lights #4

Lantern Lights #4

So when this whole website started I asked Web Mistress Cathy if I could write a periodical “column” (column comes with ironic quotes to warn those of the non-irony disposition that just such a trait may be impending…along with sarcasm, dry wit, drunken rambling, and possible insight into the human condition if I’m feeling particularly full of post-modern angst—of course none of these things may be present, which is why I remind you that this website includes some nice pictures of the Lantern ladies and maybe you should focus on those instead). After my request, I felt that the mere asking itself was awfully fatiguing, and lo the column never got started. Then for awhile I had in my possession reams of black and white photos that I was commissioned to write pithy captions for. And, well, reams of paper in my apartment tend to gravitate towards other reams of paper, and everyone knows that a gathering of paper left unattended is a very chaotic beast. Besides that put too much pressure on a man to be funny—if I wanted to write funny captions I’d go work for Maxim magazine. At least there I’d be paid for the job and just maybe get to meet Sarah Michelle Gellar during a photo shoot. But on this first ninety degree day of the year (remember kids, summer in Sacto is all about sweating, cursing the Lantern’s faulty air conditioners ((no lawsuits please)), and fabricating excuses why the Kings suck so much ass when it’s crunch time), the mood has finally struck me to get this column idea rolling. Hell, I’m not producing any action packed kickball photos, so I may as well offer something (although I’m pretty sure I was the one who suggested Motley Crue should be the opening music for the site).

So at that point I had to start asking myself some tough questions. What would a Golden Lantern Website Column be about? What issues are of most importance to those who fall between 1810 and 1813 N street? What can my years of training and experience ever offer these fine folks? What the hell is a fuel cell? Finally, after agonizing hours of racking my brain (there may have been a few Yueng-Lings in there somewhere) I thought the first column should be broad, to the point, and fairly toothless (much like a Stockton Boulevard hooker). Yes, there will be time in future columns to let out anger, knit pick with precision malice, and insult only those in need of insulting. But it’s good for an author to show his soft side first, to let down his walls, and appeal to a sense of good will, good tidings, and group sing alongs.