Traffic Secrets: A Must-Read Book For Bloggers And Entrepreneur

For the last thirty days I've been participating in a traffic secrets challenge on Twitter as I've worked my way through Russell Brunson's new book, Traffic Secrets: The Underground Playbook for Filling Your Websites and Funnels with Your Dream Customers. It's been a great opportunity to learn more about cultivating an audience and driving traffic to a website. Today, I'm going to share a little bit more about the book, and what you can learn from it. This is a sponsored post for the Traffic Secrets book, but all opinions are mine!

Traffic Secrets: The Underground Playbook for Filling Your Websites and Funnels with Your Dream Customers

It doesn't matter if you are new to the online space or if you have been here for a long time – you need to consistently work at bringing in more traffic to your website or sales funnel. In the world of online marketing, a sales funnel is usually a landing page that walks potential customers through the decision process to purchase. A funnel can also be more than just that initial landing page and include an email sequence, text messages, and other communication that keeps your potential customer engaged until they are ready to buy (because a lot of people need to be presented with an offer up to 20 times before they will buy).

Those of us who have been doing this for years know that strategies have to change as Google and social media algorithms fluctuate. Every year, tens of thousands of online businesses and websites start and then quickly fail, because the owner doesn't understand how to bring in the audience they need.

What I appreciate about Traffic Secrets is the way Brunson takes you through fundamental steps that build a strong foundation. It's not a bunch of sketchy tricks that will work for a few days or months and then leave you with a huge disaster when a social platform finds the loophole you've been exploiting or Google decides to change their guidelines.

The first step to driving traffic to your website is identifying your ideal audience: What do they need? What do they want? Which problems are they trying to solve?

Once you identify your audience (your ideal customer/reader/follower), you can focusing on getting to know them. Figure out where they are spending time. Hone in on ways to reach them and get them to click through to your website or funnel.


This is the journey Traffic Secrets walks you through. Brunson also reveals direct marketing techniques that will allow you to be at the front of new online trends and see opportunities other people haven't picked up on yet.

Traffic Secrets Author: Russell Brunson

Russell Brunson is an entrepreneur and best-selling author. In 2014, Russell and his partner Todd Dickerson launched ClickFunnels, which became the fastest-growing non-venture backed software company in the world and is now a $100M company. In addition to being the CEO of ClickFunnels, Brunson has built a following of over a million entrepreneurs, sold hundreds of thousands of copies of his books, and popularized the concept of sales funnels.

Get A Copy Of Traffic Secrets Today!

If you want to drive more traffic to your blog or online business, or you are thinking about starting something new online, this book is a must-read. You can learn more about the book and grab a free copy of Traffic Secrets here (you just pay for the shipping and handling)! It's a great deal.

This is a sponsored post written on behalf of Russell Brunson and Traffic Secrets: The Underground Playbook for Filling Your Websites and Funnels with Your Dream Customers.

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Climbing Camelback Mountain (Take One)

I wanted to climb Camelback Mountain for my birthday this year, and Katarina agreed to do it with me. I was a little worried about the extra hard rating, and some of the scary reviews I read online, because I've never really hiked before (and Camelback is the tallest mountain around here), but I got advice from hiking friends and decided I could do it.

While I would love to post this picture here, and let you believe that I climbed a mountain this weekend, I have to admit something: we didn't make it all the way to the top.

I'm still counting this experience as a total win, though.

We learned a lot of important things that are going to help us make it to the top next time – because there WILL be a next time. I'm going to keep going back until I conquer Camelback Mountain all the way.

Why I Didn't Make It To The Top of Camelback Mountain (And What I Learned About Hiking)

1. You can't climb a mountain when you have chest congestion (or, at least, I can't). 

I've been coughing for the last week, but didn't feel feverish or weak. I didn't realize how congested my lungs were, or how much it would impact hiking, until I was about 30 minutes in and could hardly catch my breath. The higher we hiked, the worse it got, and the longer I had to sit each time to get my breath back.

2. Proper footwear matters. 

I should say that I knew my shoes weren't the best going into this adventure. My boss even asked me if I had proper footwear and told me to get hiking shoes last week. But I didn't make it to the store, and decided my seven year old running shoes would work okay. They were okay, but they were not the best choice. I'm definitely getting the right shoes before I do this again.

3. Going down is faster. 

The final reason we decided to stop where we did was time. With all of the stops I had to take to rest during our ascent, we were moving slowly. I wasn't sure how long it would take to go back down, and wanted to make sure we didn't get stuck partway if my breathing troubles worsened. When we got to the halfway point, we decided to turn around and come back another day.

4. Two people = two bags for water. 

I wanted to take lots of water, because, Arizona. But I packed all of it into the one hiking backpack we own. It wasn't too heavy to carry comfortably, but it was heavy enough to impact my balance. Next time Katarina and I will take separate bags and split up the water. (Shout out to Nature Valley for the hiking backpack they sent me probably 10 years ago as part of an influencer campaign that I finally took on a real hike!)

5. Hike early. 

We got to the mountain at 7:30am and that was nearly perfect. I think we will try to get there a bit earlier next time, but I definitely wouldn't want to go later. When we were on our way down, it was getting super crowded. Which leads me to this...

6. I'm glad I wore jeans.

Near the end of the hike, a group of guys jostled me as they pushed past me on their way up the mountain; I went down hard on one knee. My knee is pretty torn up, but it would have been worse in leggings or shorts.

Stay tuned...I'm going to try this again soon, and will have more tips for you on how to successfully climb Camelback Mountain.

If you want to see more pictures of our Camelback Mountain adventure, check out the highlights on my Instagram Stories.

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Remembering Rich Mullins 20 Years Later

I worked with the soundtrack of Rich Mullins behind me today. Not unusual, I often play his music. But today, as I listened through every song Rich gave us, I felt the weight of the music. I was struck by the history of who I was 20 years ago and the reality of who I am now all contained in those songs.

It's been 20 years since Rich Mullins reached the other side of the Jordan.

I was in 9th grade when he died. Now I'm the parent of a 9th grader.

I could link to a dozen or more articles published in the last week about the impact Rich Mullins had on people's faith, and probably a few that debate his faith, his theology, and his weaknesses. But I've only glanced at everything that is being written about Rich on this anniversary. I'll probably go back in the next few weeks and read all of it, because I never stop longing for that community of people who knew Rich, either personally or just through his music. But today I'm taking it old school. Reading articles linked up on Calling Out Your Name, a website that makes me smile in all of its late 1990's glory. Feeling that weight.

Music can take you right back to you were when you first heard it, and it can speak to you right where you are in the moment you are hearing it again. And this is where I sit today.

And I had to sit here — on this blog.
Much neglected this year. To be honest, totally neglected.

One of the only things I've written for myself in months was this: "I don't write anymore, because my words are all too painful and incendiary."

It was short enough to tweet, but I didn't need 140 characters.

I could have summed that sentence up in one word. It isn't a word about not having time, as much as I toss lack of time out as a handy excuse for not writing. It's a word both simple and complex.

The word is FEAR.

I don't write anymore, and it all comes down to fear. 

The fear of telling stories and not having stories to tell. The fear of people reading and no one reading. The fear of being too much and not enough. The fear of being weak and finding strength. The fear of words both raw and honest.

So today, I sat and listed to every song Rich gave us. And I soaked in the rawness and the truth.

As I was on the elliptical machine at the gym (I really really don't recommend listening to Rich Mullins while working out — the singing, the the hand raising, and the crying can all be very dangerous while ellipticalling) I heard Bound To Come Some Trouble deep in my soul.

Bound To Come Some Trouble - Rich Mullins Video Link

I've listened to this sound hundreds, maybe even thousands of times, but today I was struck by the fact he intentionally addresses fear more than once.

There's bound to come some trouble to your life
But that ain't nothing to be afraid of
There's bound to come some trouble to your life
But that ain't no reason to fear
I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life
But reach out to Jesus, hold on tight
He's been there before and He knows what it's like
You'll find He's there  

There's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
That ain't nothing to be ashamed of
I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
That ain't no reason to fear
I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
Reach out to Jesus, hold on tight
He's been there before and He knows what it's like
You'll find He's there  

This is what I heard:

Trouble and tears are coming.
No fear. No fear. No shame. No fear.
Reach out to Jesus. Hold on tight. 

My moment of clarity came. I've been doing this backwards.

Holding on to fear. Holding on to shame. Holding on to fear.
Not holding on, so much, to Jesus.

So today, I brushed aside the dust, and blew off the cobwebs, and I let go of fear, and I showed up to write, and in a few minutes I'm actually going to click publish.

And that is enough.

I'm not going to tell you the story of Rich, but know that his music changed my life. And 20 years later, I still listen and I still miss him. But I encourage you.... check out the articles written about Rich, the old ones and the new. Read the articles Rich wrote for RELEASE back in the day. Watch the movie and watch the old documentary and the new documentary. Listen to the music. Read a little Brennan Manning. It's all good for your soul.

But most of all... Don't be afraid. Hold on to Jesus. And be God's.

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What Is Sexual Assault?

What is sexual assault? What is the actual definition of sexual assault? 

This term seems to be super confusing for people this week, primarily Donald Trump supporters, many of whom are scrambling to defend him since the release of the 2005 Access Hollywood tape. 

There is a lot to be said about what you see and hear on that tape, all of which is bad, but today I'm only going to focus on this section:

Donald Trump: "I’ve got to use some Tic Tacs, just in case I start kissing her. You know I’m automatically attracted to beautiful — I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.” 

*Billy Bush: "Whatever you want.” 

Donald Trump: "Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything.”

There are a lot of defenses going around as people try to fix these unfixable words, most of them center on focusing on the date the tape was made or comparing Trump to other people (as if their moms never taught them "two wrongs don't make a right").

Senator Jeff Sessions took his defense a step further, after the second presidential debate, when he was interviewed by The Weekly Standard:

Jeff Sessions: This was very improper language, and he's acknowledged that. 

TWS: But beyond the language, would you characterize the behavior described in that [video] as sexual assault if that behavior actually took place? 

Jeff Sessions: I don't characterize that as sexual assault. I think that's a stretch. I don't know what he meant— 

TWS: So if you grab a woman by the genitals, that's not sexual assault? 

Jeff Sessions: I don't know. It's not clear that he—how that would occur.

According to Jeff Sessions, he doesn't know if grabbing a woman by the genitals is sexual assault. You would think a former U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of Alabama would understand the definition of sexual assault, but maybe it never came up in his law classes.

What is sexual assault?

The Justice Department defines sexual assault like this (emphasis mine):

Sexual assault is any type of sexual contact or behavior that occurs without the explicit consent of the recipient. Falling under the definition of sexual assault are sexual activities as forced sexual intercourse, forcible sodomy, child molestation, incest, fondling, and attempted rape.

That is a pretty heavy list of things that fall under the definition of sexual assault. Let's break this down further.

You may not know (although I would hope that former U.S. Attorney-turned-Senator Jeff Sessions does) that different states have different laws around sexual assault. RAINN has a great resource for viewing the sexual assault laws for each state, including information on statutes of limitations. I won't walk you through all of them here, but let's take a look at the sexual assault laws in the State of New York, where Donald Trump lives.

Forcible Touching - Misdemeanor 
Intentionally, and for no legitimate purpose, forcibly touching the sexual or other intimate parts of another person for the purpose of degrading or abusing such person; or for the purpose of gratifying the actor's sexual desire. (N.Y. Penal Law § 130.52)

This crime is considered a misdemeanor in the state of New York, and the possible punishment is a maximum of 1 year in prison.

Now let's take a look at the sexual assault laws in the state of Alabama, where Jeff Sessions lives, and used to be a U.S. Attorney:

Sexual Abuse In The First Degree
An actor commits sexual abuse in the first degree if he:
1. subjects another person to sexual contact by forcible compulsion; or
2. subjects another person to sexual contact who is incapable of consent by reason of being physically helpless or mentally incapacitated. (Ala. Code § 13A-6-66)

Alabama takes a tough view of this crime, they consider it a Class C Felony and the possible punishment is imprisonment of not more than 10 years or less than 1 year and 1 day as well as a fine not exceeding $15,000.

As to Senator Sessions comment about not being clear how grabbing a woman by the pussy would occur, I would invite him to spend some time reading the responses Kelly Oxford received on Twitter after she asked women to share the stories of the first time they were sexually assaulted.

Women: tweet me your first assaults. they aren't just stats. I'll go first:

Old man on city bus grabs my "pussy" and smiles at me, I'm 12.

— kelly oxford (@kellyoxford) October 7, 2016

That was sexual assault.

Any type of sexual contact or behavior that occurs without the explicit consent of the recipient is sexual assault.

But it's more than that.

The words sexual assault seem so big, so damning, so grave to those who are trying to dance around them right now. How can you possibly use something that serious to describe this bus conversation? But to those of us who have experienced sexual assault, the words feel almost sterile. Small. Not enough. It's impossible to take two words, and fit into them all of the feelings, the violation, the trauma, of being the victim of sexual assault.

I was four years old the first time my uncle touched me. That was not the last time it happened. Every time was an act of sexual assault.

The definition of sexual assault isn't hard, unless you are trying to excuse it.

It's actually quite clear. And it's always wrong.

*This is the same Billy Bush who once told Mackenzie Phillips that incest should be a "private thing" and didn't want to talk about it on tv.

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If you have been the victim of sexual assault and need help, or you want to help a loved one, you can contact RAINN or call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE.

If you suspect that a child is being abused, or if you are a child or teen who is being abused, you can contact Child Help or call the National Child Abuse Hotline 1-800-4-A-CHILD.

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Luke's Diner Popped Up In Arizona, And It Was Amazing

To help celebrate the Netflix revival of Gilmore Girls (it's dropping on November 25th, so cancel your Black Friday plans — there will be 4 new episodes of Gilmore Girls to watch), Netflix set up pop-up Luke's Diners in coffee shops all across the country this morning.

You know my Gilmore Girls-loving family had to visit Luke's Diner in Arizona. We woke up to the crisp feel of fall in the air, which was perfect for our trip to Stars Hollow, otherwise known as the Octane Cafe. The line was already forming when we arrived, so it was a good thing we got there early.

Katarina wore her classic Luke's Diner t-shirt. I wore plaid in honor of Luke along with a denim jacket and hat Lorelai would love.

Octane Cafe and the baristas were decked out in Luke's Diner accessories.

We used cell phones to take these pictures (don't tell Luke!), and then we ordered cups of coffee and orange cranberry muffins, both of which were delicious.

It was the perfect start to a beautiful, fall morning.

Underneath the Luke's sleeve was a quote from Gilmore Girls.

The other side had a snapchat code for a fun filter.
(I'm snappy: @fromtracie)

I drank coffee out of my Luke's Diner cup all day. It accompanied me to all of the video conference calls I had at work, too. Everything is more fun with a cup of coffee from Luke's.

Li'l Sebastian P. Merrywinkle agrees. He quite enjoyed snuggling up with a good book and my Luke's Diner coffee cup this afternoon.

If you live in my area, check out the Octane Cafe in Mesa, AZ. The coffee is super awesome. And no matter where you live, check out the Town of Stars Hollow website. You won't be disappointed.

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Heart Tattoos

Yesterday one of my friends got a super cute tattoo, and posted pictures on Facebook this morning. I added it to my mental list of tattoos. (I could probably hashtag that list #TattooGoals.) I love tattoos. I love it when people share their tattoo pictures, and even more when they share the stories behind them.

This one spoke to me because it was about knitting. I am a knitter.

I mean, I can knit. I taught myself how to knit. I really loved it. Then I hit a knitting wall, both in ability and financially (yarn is expensive, y'all, if you want to buy the good stuff). But I still think of myself as a knitter. I still believe that one day I will pull out those needles and create beautiful things. When I'm in the craft store, I stare at yarn and needles with hungry eyes. Here's the thing, though, I'm not a knitter right now. And I certainly wouldn't get a ball of yarn tattooed on myself right now. The timing doesn't make sense.

This story perfectly sums up why I don't have a tattoo. I think too far in the future. I put every tattoo idea to the "do I want this on my skin FOREVER?" test. It's not a bad test, really. There are a lot of people out there who have tattoos they don't love anymore. But my test is administered in such a way that nothing will ever pass.

I thought about this as I was looking at that super cute yarn tattoo today, and the caption that said something about this being tattoo #5 and now it was time to start thinking about #6. And I finally entertained the thought that maybe it doesn't matter if a tattoo is the perfect fit for every day of the rest of your life.

What if a tattoo was just a snapshot of your life right then — in that moment — the life for which you aren't promised a tomorrow? The life for which forever isn't a reality, anyway. A reminder outside of my head of who I was exactly in a moment in time. A scar, as it were, that illustrated something perfectly. Something that changed me inside, changing me on the outside, too.

These are the tattoos that exist on my heart, even if they never made it to my skin...(starting with the first time I remember thinking about a tattoo)...

When I was 11, I would have gotten a butterfly tattooed on my hand, on the back of my left hand, right by my thumb. I see it sometimes, now, when I stare at my hand really hard.

When I was 12, I was obsessed with always. Always. It was doodled on every school folder and book cover. (I used to write this word on the upper palm of my left hand — sometimes artsy, sometimes longingly, sometimes desperately — and at 12 I really did think I would make it a permanent mark when I was old enough.)

When I was 14, my friends and I spent months writing "BORN AGAIN" on our inner arms with permanent markers. Thick, dark lines. BORN on my right arm. AGAIN on my left. We would refresh them as they faded. It was the closest thing to permanent in a year where nothing was the same.

That summer, I would have tattooed green stars. Dainty, but strong. And a pair of converse with an orange ribbon.

When I was 15, I would have tattooed fire. Consuming fire and Hebrew words.

When I was 16, it would have been all about snippets. Bible verses. Song lyrics. Quotes from books. I was buttoned up and covered up. No one would have seen these words, but they were beautiful and written in green, a small purple triangle surrounding every mention of God.

I also would have added the word "Beloved" to the upper palm of my right hand.

When I was 17, it would have been a fake tribal tattoo, and I fear it would have happened on my lower back. What can I say, I'm being honest with you. It was the end of the 90's, every girl was doing it, and by this time I would have thrown the careful "do I want this forever" test right out of the window.

When I was 19, I would have tattooed a wedding ring. Beautiful, scrolly, and adorned with a heart and a cross.

When I was 20, I earned a c-section scar. If that isn't a heart tattoo forcing its way out onto the skin, I don't know what is. But it wouldn't have hurt to engrave a date right over my heart to go with it.

When I was 21, I would have tattooed Survivor on my left foot. This is the path I walk. This is something that will be truly true for the rest of my life.

When I was 26, I would have gotten a knitting tattoo that would have inspired anyone who saw it to pick up a pair of needles and start purling. Okay, it might not have been THAT awesome. But it would have been pretty awesome. I am a knitter, after all.

When I was 27, I would have tattooed an entire picture around my upper left arm. A VW bus parked under a tree heavy with yellow flowers. The bus would have had the words "Yellow Joy Machine" painted on the side.

I also would have added "Love" to one of my wrists. The right one, on the top of my arm. Like a bracelet. With a small star at the end. *To Write Love On Her Arms

When I was 28, I would have tattooed "Choose Joy" written in Sarah's handwriting. It would have fit perfectly on my right foot.

When I was 29, I would have tattooed a classic cassette tape. The handwritten title would have read simply "Misty."

I also would have added the word "Hope" to my right shoulder.

When I was 30, I would have made an update to my Always tattoo. This is the year I read Harry Potter for the first time. When I reached the moment where Snape said, "Always" I held the book close to my heart, and thought, "That's my word." It was a big moment for me. I pay extra close attention to every Snape-inspired Always tattoo.

I would have also added a semicolon to the outside of my right hand, matching up with the butterfly on my left. *Project Semicolon

When I was 33 (that's this year), I would tattoo another picture, this time around my upper right arm. A periwinkle car parked in the dessert by a prickly pear cactus. The cactus pads are turning purple. Three blooms would be visible, reaching up towards the sun setting behind mountains in the background.

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It's been a while since I've written here. A combination of a busy work life, a huge change in my personal life, and the darkness and light that both hold back words in different ways. 

My family moved to Arizona in April, after living in Orlando for nine years. It's a move that took a long time (much longer than anticipated — we had headed down to Orlando in a black SUV for a two week trip and visit to Disney World on the way to Arizona, and got stuck). It's a move that was an answer to many thousands of prayers. The desert has welcomed me back home. 

Also, we have a hedgehog now. 

His name is Li'l Sebastian P. Merrywinkle. Sometimes, he wears a hat. 

Have you looked at hedgehog tattoos? 
They are almost as cute as the real thing. Especially the bookish ones.

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The Kiesling Siren

It blinks at me.

Like a warning.

Like a soundless siren.

Bink. Blink. Blink.

Taunting me.

Screaming at me.

I dream about it at night.

The endless blinking, calling out to me.

This thin little line.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Like an I without the serifs.

Like an I who wants to write - who wants me to write - but can not without my help.

This I is me.

I want words. I want to put words together in beautiful lines.

We are in this together - I and the blinking I.

Maybe it is Kiesling's voice that calls out to me in the night?

"Hello. The blinking line is your friend. Why have you not written today?"

Make it move. Give it words. Allow it to work and help you.

The faster you type, the less it blinks.

Don't give it that chance unless you must.

Type your words.

Type without thinking.

Without backing down.

Without editing.

Hit publish before it can blink again.

Only then can you conquer Kiesling's line.

Only then can you turn off the siren and quiet your mind.

Only then can you write again.


*Thank you Charles A Kiesling, for inventing the blinking cursor. 
It is both friend and foe to writers everywhere.  

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Chicken Bacon Flatbread

Football is great. I'll be watching the big game next week for sure, but I have to admit there is one part of game day I love more than than the game — the food. I'm all about game day food. Sliders, nachos, pizza, potato skins, chicken wings, chips and dips. I love it ALL. So the big question in my house is, what are we eating for the big game? And the answer is, Chicken Bacon Flatbread. Yes!

This post has been sponsored by Naturally Fresh®.

Chicken Bacon Flatbread

This recipe is combines everything I need in my life: the flavors are great, the preparation is simple, and it's actually better-for-you than most of the food I eat. Look at these great, fresh ingredients.

Chicken Bacon Flatbread Ingredients:

• 2 pieces of flatbread or naan
• 2 chicken breasts
• 4 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled
• Salt and pepper
• 1⁄2 cup shredded pepper jack cheese
• 1⁄4 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
• 1⁄2 cup roasted red pepper strips
• 1⁄2 red onion, sliced
• 1⁄4 cup chopped cilantro
• 1⁄2 avocado, diced
• 1⁄4 cup sriracha
• 1⁄2 cup Naturally Fresh® Classic Ranch

Let’s Make It

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Season chicken with salt and pepper. Cook and then dice your chicken into small chunks.

Brush flatbread pieces lightly with olive oil.

Spread 1⁄4 cup ranch onto flatbreads.

Top with 1⁄4 cup mozzarella cheese.

Add chicken, red pepper strips, and onion. Top with remaining cheese.

Bake in your oven for 10­-15 minutes or until cheese is bubbly and melted. Remove flatbreads from oven and add cilantro and avocado. Top with sriracha to taste and add the remaining ranch.

Thomas discovered sriracha a few months ago, and since then, it's been appearing everywhere! Sriracha is yummy, but even though I like the taste, the spice is a bit much for me.

The secret to making this flatbread recipe something we can both love is using creamy Classic Ranch made with Naturally Fresh’s® own buttermilk. You'll find it in the refrigerated section of your grocery store, because it doesn't have any artificial flavors or preservatives. Thomas adds extra sriracha to his flatbread, and I add extra Classic Ranch. It's a beautiful thing.

There you have it. The perfect food for game day (or any day, really). If you are having people over for the game, you can have everyone make their own flatbread so they get exactly what they like. So fun. I think we are going to try the Naturally Fresh® Bleu Cheese next time we make this. It has chunks of aged bleu cheese mixed in with the buttermilk, and that sounds amazing.

To take your game day snacking to the next level, check out the Naturally Fresh® Facebook page and website where they share lots of yummy recipes.

What will you be eating while you watch the big game?

*This post has been sponsored by Naturally Fresh®, but all opinions (and deep love of game day food) are my own.

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Root Canal In Paris

At the Barnes & Noble by my house, there is someone who really loves Paris, because there is at least one table that always has Paris-themed books on it no matter what the season or greater theme for the display. During a recent trip, I wrote down a couple of titles I wanted to check out at the library, and then promptly forgot about them.

Last week I had to have a root canal. The night before, I went online to check out a couple of books from the library, and remembered those Paris titles. I was too lazy to actually get out of bed and find the piece of paper in my purse all the way on the other side of the room, so I mostly searched for books with Paris in the title. I found Lunch in Paris: A Love Story, with Recipes and recognized it from the B&N table, even though I don't think it was one of the titles I wrote down. I downloaded it with plans to spend the next afternoon happily reading after my trip to the dentist.

There's something you have to know. Dental anesthesia doesn't work for me. I've had cavities filled, and a couple of teeth pulled, and while the outside of my face will get annoyingly numb, the inside of the tooth, the nerve, my jaw have no numbness at all, and I feel every bit of the procedure. My new dentist was dismissive of my warning (probably only one step away from using the words "hysterical girl") and assured me the endodontist was a master with anesthesia.

I didn't believe this, mind you, but I allowed myself to be hopeful that it wouldn't be much worse than a filling. As I settled into the chair before my root canal, I repeated this warning for the endodontist and his assistant. He wasn't nearly as dismissive as the dentist, but he was confident he would be able to achieve full numbness for me. He was wrong. And I can now assure you that a root canal essentially without anesthesia is much worse than a filling. It is worse than 27 hours of labor. It is no good at all.

The endodontist was great. He was very nice throughout the entire two and a half hours it took to complete the root canal. He even found the fourth canal which is tricky. And he probably apologized at least 84 times, both horrified and fascinated by my lack of numbness. I have now become his special story "there has only been ONE patient in my whole career whom I could not anesthetize" for dental cocktail parties or nervous patients. I may take small solace in that - once the pain of the root canal fades away.

When I finally arrived home that afternoon, I was in much pain and didn't want the noise of the television. I was also quite hungry, but completely unable to chew. It was then I picked up Lunch In Paris to try to distract my mind. Probably not smart timing, it being a book with both lunch and recipes in the title, but I was thinking of it as a light Parisian romance.

Lunch In Paris is a memoir about Elizabeth Bard's marriage and life in France - but really it is a cookbook and an accounting of every amazing meal she has eaten. In an early chapter she describes a pavé au poivre:

"It was not a particularly impressive plate - a hunk of meat, fat fried potatoes piled carelessly to one side. But something happened as I sliced the first bite - no resistance, none at all. The knife slid through the meat; the thinnest layer of crusty brown opening to reveal a pulpy red heart. I watched as the pink juices puddled into the buttery pepper sauce...I must have uttered an audible gasp of pleasure"

I took four ibuprofen and a nap after reading that chapter, and I dreamed about that steak. And then I continued to dream about that steak for the rest of the week while I was unable to chew and only eating Kraft Mac & Cheese.

While this isn't the most inspiring memoir I've ever read (and my favorite memoir of an American woman moving to France will always be A Lady In France) it is enjoyable and full of some of the best food descriptions I've ever read. And even though I know it won't happen, Bard makes me want to go into a kitchen and try to cook with her recipes. That's worth something. Just don't try to read it after a major dental procedure like I did.

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That Time Dr. Seuss, America, and Super Heroes Stopped Me From Working At The Library

Recently I needed a quiet space with great internet to record a video conference for work. I couldn't do it at home or a coffee shop (too much noise) so I came up with the brilliant idea to use my local library. My library is great for things like this - they have special quiet rooms you can reserve ahead of time, and even a couple you can claim in the moment if no one else is using them. They even have an area where people can use a 3D printer, record albums, or use special photography equipment. Surely my library would be the perfect answer.

The day arrived. Thomas dropped me and Katarina off at the library when the doors opened at 9am. It was going to be a great day.

I noticed a large amount of Dr. Seuss themed decorations as we walked through the library. Large banners, balloon sculptures, baskets with workbooks and signs about reading and writing. Being a lover of Dr. Seuss, I was excited, even pausing long enough to take a couple of pictures with the balloons. "This is the best library day EVER" I thought.

One of the librarians told me they were having a Dr. Seuss extravaganza, and were bussing in over 100 kids for a fun rock concert to kick off a summer writing challenge.

The writer inside of me was very excited. The person who needed to work was a little concerned at the words "fun rock concert" but how loud could it be, really. I mean, it is a library, right? I confirmed that they would be finished with the event before my video conference was going to start, and didn't worry about it.

Katarina and I settled in the YA section - she to look at books, me to work.

The band arrived for sound check. They loudly sang a song about germs and toilet seats.

Thing 1 and Thing 2 came by to wave and give us high fives. They came back a few minutes later and brought us a balloon.

As the kids started arriving, I admitted to myself that this event was going to be very loud. I quickly started looking for a quiet space to make a few necessary phone calls. Since the concert was in the main library, I found the children's section deserted and set up under the watchful eye of a magical lizard wizard. Katarina and I hung out there until the rock band finished their concert. Only small strains of germ songs filtered through the phone.

After lunch we moved to my reserved quiet room to settle in for the video conference. I connected with my partner, and everything was great for about one minute - until his town started their monthly tornado warning drill. I've never lived anywhere were they had tornado warning sirens, and I always wondered if they would really be loud enough to wake someone up. I can now say with confidence that those things will wake you up. It was LOUD. The whole process took about 15 minutes. We waited and laughed at the absurdity of the noise interrupting our recording session, and I told him about the Dr Seuss extravaganza he had missed that morning.

When the siren ended, it was time to get down to work. Three minutes in I heard music and then singing. "Do you hear that sound?" I asked, hoping the microphone wasn't picking it up.

"I am starting to feel a little patriotic. Is that America The Beautiful?" he responded.

"Yes. I think there are a couple of teenagers watching a video on the computers near the quiet room. We will wait it out for just a minute. The song is almost finished." But a song from Oh Brother Where Art Thou started almost immediately after that one ended, even thought the teenagers had walked away, and the computer screen was blank.

"Excuse me for just a minute while I go investigate this noise. I can't believe a librarian hasn't shut it down already." I left my quiet room and the music got louder as I walked around the corner to find a choir set up in the center of the library. They were preforming a history of America through song, complete with vintage costumes, to a crowd of about 65 people and what looked like professional videographers and a news crew. This couldn't really be happening.

I sprinted to the information desk and asked if there was an unclaimed quiet room on one of the other floors. They found one room that hadn't been claimed for the day. I quickly went back to my computer, told my partner to give me a few minutes to move, and started packing up all of our stuff. Katarina and I ran up three flights of stairs and collapsed in the new quiet room. I turned on the computer, to find that this room was in what seemed to be an internet black hole. I got enough of a connection to pull up the video conference and confirm that there was no way this was going to work. I needed to be downstairs where the internet connection was stronger.

Trying to salvage this long-planned recording, I sent Katarina downstairs to ask the information desk how long the choir performance was going to last. She arrived back at the quiet room to tell me they were gone. "Totally gone. The signs have been taken down, there is no sound equipment or costumed singers. Even the film crews have disappeared. It is like they were never there."

"Give me five more minutes to move back downstairs and we will make this happen," I told my very patient partner.

We repacked our stuff, ran down three flights of stairs, and headed towards our original quiet room. As I turned the corner, one of the librarians stopped me. "I saw y'all run out of here when the choir came. Sorry about all the noise. I know you are trying to work today, so I thought I would catch you before you go back there, to let you know that we have a Super Hero party scheduled to start in seven minutes, and it is being held right outside the quiet rooms."

Dejected I walked into the quiet room, fired up the computer, connected to my video conference and shared the latest update. The super heroes were on their way and there would be no quiet in the library that day. To which my video partner replied, "Super hero party? What kind of library is this? I've never been in such a loud library in my whole life."

"I know. They need one of those stereotypical old lady librarians with a bun and little glasses to come out here and shush everyone."

I rescheduled our conference with a promise to secure a recording location that was less of a circus and called Thomas to pick us up. I was officially giving up on the library. While I waited, I stopped by the information desk one last time to ask about all of the events that day, "Is this normal?"

"We have a pretty busy schedule during the summer. Here is a calendar with all of our events for the next two months. You might want to check it out before setting up work time here." with that he handed me a thick schedule of events with pages full of descriptions of reading programs, robot camps, community events, kids activities, author interviews, movie screenings, science presentations, art shows, computer classes, and more.

I'm torn between being angry at my library for being a loud circus when I needed it, and being so very excited that I have the best library ever....as long as you aren't looking for a quiet space to study or work during the summer months.

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This Is My Fight Song

I've been meaning to write something for Dean and Courtney's That's What She Said link up for weeks now, and today I'm actually sitting down to do it. The prompt is a line from Rachel Platten's Fight Song...

If I was to get very literal with you (the real meaning of literal - not the new ridiculous meaning where "literally" somehow means not literal at all), I would say my fight song for many years has been Be Wise, Be Strong, Be You. It is the song I put on repeat when I write hard things. It is the song I have sung, clung to, screamed, written out on paper when there were no other words, cried with, danced to, and shouted...

"If they shut one door then you open another
There's no telling where you'll go from here
And if they take your spirit keep your soul under cover
Make your path and just stay in the clear
So be wise, be strong, be you
There's nothing that you can't do."
- Be Wise, Be Strong, Be You - Cee Cee Michaela

I have a playlist on Spotify named "Tracie's Power Music" that is all of my fight songs. It is one of the few playlists I've taken the time to cultivate - only really great songs that are full of heart words make the cut. Songs that weave a mantle of strength around me.

"'Cause I have been where you are before
And I have felt the pain of losing who you are
And I have died so many times, but I am still alive
This is not the end of me, this is the beginning."
- I Belive - Christina Perri

What is my fight song in less literal terms? What is it that helps me to take back my life, to make me all right, to turn up my power, and make me strong? Words. Writing. This space.

"Nothing's gonna hurt you the way that words do
When they settle 'neath your skin
Kept on the inside and no sunlight
Sometimes a shadow wins
But I wonder what would happen if you
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave."
- Brave - Sara Bareilles

If writing online is a poem that builds an incredible portrait of what it is like to be alive now - then this really is my fight song. Even thought this is the piece of me that I give to the world, it is also the piece I keep very much for myself.

"But you've gotta make your own kind of music
Sing your own special song
Make your own kind of music
Even if nobody else sings along."
- Make Your Own Kind Of Music - Mama Cass

In writing, I can be truly and honestly me in ways that aren't always so easy out there in daily conversation. I can take the time to be thoughtful. I can take chances and take flight.

"Get up and go
Take a chance and be strong
Or you could spend your whole life holding on
Don't look back; just go
Take a breath, move along
Or you could spend your whole life holding on."
- Go - Boys Like Girls

And maybe, on occasion, I can write the things that are in your heart, too.

Just like any good fight song.

What is your fight song? 

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Keep Your Kids On Track For A Safe Summer

My childhood summer days were comprised of hours of reading punctuated by bike rides and occasional adventures in the woods. When I was little, there were a lot of safety rules my mom taught me over and over again - only jump in the water feet first, look both ways before crossing a street (preferably while holding the hand of an adult), don't talk to strangers, no playing or gathering blackberries near the train tracks, sit on your butt while sliding down a slide, mind the warning flags at the beach, and absolutely stay away from the half burnt down house in the woods.

Now that I'm the mom, it is my job to share those safety rules with Katarina. And I'm not off the hook because she is in her tween years. I only have to think back to the time I thought it would be a good idea to jump off of my friend's roof when I was 12 years old to remind myself that tweens and teens need safety rules, too.

That is why I am excited to work with Shriners Hospitals for Children® this summer to help promote their On Track For A Safe Summer Campaign. Because parents need all the help and support they can get as they teach their kids about safety.

National Safety Month

June has been designated National Safety Month. It is the start of summer - or what public health and medical professionals in the United States call "trauma season," because serious injuries and unintentional deaths increase dramatically among children during these months. Scary.

Katarina and I recently attended a safe summer event at Shriners Hospitals for Children® in Tampa. It was pretty awesome. The kids and their parents were taken on a journey through several safety stations to learn important tips. I'm going to share some of my favorites with you today, so you can help your kids get on track for a safe summer.

Safe Summer Tip: Wear Sunscreen EVERY Time You Go Outside
I'm all about sunscreen now that I'm an adult, but kids just want to run outside and play as fast as they can. I remember those years of not caring about sunscreen, and I remember the second degree burns I got after I spent nine hours at the beach without any sunscreen when I was a teenager. Ouch! As you might guess, I took Katarina straight to the sunscreen station to reinforce the lessons I've been teaching her since she was little.

Shriners Hospitals for Children® knows what kids like. They made the stations both informative and fun, as you can see in the picture of Katarina getting ready to go outside. She has her shoes, hat, and sunscreen and is all ready to go!

Safe Summer Tip: Life Jackets Are NOT One Size Fits All
Water safety is a huge deal - especially when you live in Florida with beaches and pools all around. Did you know that life jackets aren't one size fits all? Everyone (kids and adults) should wear a life jacket that is Coast Guard approved and fits snug anytime they are boating or participating in water sports.

A few important things kids need to know about water safety:

• Kids should always have an adult with them if they are going to get in the water, even if the water is shallow.
• Kids should always jump in the water feet first the first time until they know how deep it really is.
• Kids should never dive in the shallow end of the pool or into an above-ground pool. 

Safe Summer Tip: Marshmallows Belong In Fires - Kids Don't!
I love s'mores, probably more than most people, but as great as it is to gather around a campfire and roast marshmallows to a perfect golden brown, you need to be safe while you do it. Kids should never start fires or be left by themselves to roast marshmallows or cook on a grill. You always need a fire extinguisher or bucket of water nearby when you are going to start even a small fire.

Safe Summer Tip: Playgrounds Are MORE Fun With Rules
Rules? Yes, rules! They are very important for playgrounds especially, because every year emergency departments treat more than 200,000 children ages 14 and younger for playground-related injuries according to The Centers for Disease Control.

A few basic playground rules to keep summer fun and injury-free:

1. No pushing or shoving on the playground!
2. Never go down the slide head first! Always slide down feet first, one kid at a time.
3. No standing on the swings! Swing sitting down, and wait for the swing to slow down before you get off. 
4. Play at playgrounds with shock-absorbing material. 
5. Wear shoes when you play outside to prevent cuts and other injuries - and don't forget that sunscreen we talked about earlier! 

Remember all of these tips, and share them with your kids, and you will be on track for a safe summer! For more safety tips and activity pages for your kids, visit the Shriners Hospitals for Children® website.

No matter how careful you are, accidents can happen. While Shriners Hospitals for Children® hopes to help reduce the risks of accidents and prevent injuries this summer, they are available to help if a child gets hurt. Their staff provides expert surgical and rehabilitative care to children with orthopedic conditions, spinal cord injuries, and burns, regardless of the families’ ability to pay. They will even send someone to pick up a child for appointments if the family has transportation issues that prevent them from getting to the hospital.

What is the most important safety rule you taught your kids? 

*This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of Shriners Hospitals for Children®. All opinions, love of s'mores, and stories about unsafe choices in my teen years are my own. Much thanks to Deb Pope Photography for sharing her pictures from the On Track For A Safe Summer event. 

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Flash In The Can

Because sometimes you need a little flash fiction....

Flash In The Can

More berries. More veggies. More tomatoes.

The work never ends.

She leans over the hot stove, stirring her many pots.

Canning season they call it. She remembers her grandmother saying that. Although everything she made was going into a jar, and not a can, so that name seemed wrong. But jarring season didn't sound so great, either.

She was building quite the collection of filled jars. They filled the shelves in the basement nicely.

There was a time when all these things could be bought in a store. She went to one of those when she was very little, walking hand in hand with her mother down long aisles with tall shelves. Her mouth watered just thinking about the little chocolate cakes they bought that day.

But it has been many years since a store was a reality. Not since the storms.

Many things had changed.

And now it is can or facing starving in the long winter months that will surely come soon.

She stirs her pots and whispers gratitude that this abandoned farmhouse had so many jars in the basement when she moved in three years ago.

She is so intent on her work that she doesn't even notice the flash of light reflected in her vegetable stew from the lightning outside, or the smell of rain on its way.

Storms are brewing.

.....what do you think happens next? 

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I Am... {Old School Blogging}

I am transitioning.
I wonder what the next step is.
I hear Bearcat. Every day.
I see words. Beautiful words. Everywhere.
I want more.

I am alive.
I pretend all the time.
I feel deeply.

I touch the keyboard all day long.
I worry way too much.
I cry when I'm frustrated, when I'm happy, when it's Tuesday afternoon.

I am growing.
I understand everything. I understand nothing. I'm sure I fall somewhere in the middle.
I say "I love you." (Even though the autocorrect on my phone ALWAYS tries to change it to "I lube you.")
I dream lucid dreams at night.
I try my best.
I hope for good things to come my way and yours.
I am not alone.

I Am .... Old School Blogging.

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Louis C.K.'s SNL Monologue Compares Child Molestation To Eating Candy Bars

I know something big happened on tv when I wake up to 58 emails that have Saturday Night Live and child molestation in the subject line. Louis C.K. hosted SNL last night, kicking the show off with a controversial monologue.

Louis C.K.'s monologue started with the observation that he grew up in the 1970's and that theme carried through each topic on which he touched. He continued with observations of how he has mild racism, progressed into comparing the Middle East to his fighting children, and ended with comments about child molesters and candy bars.....

"In the 70's there was a child molester who lived in my home town. And it wasn't a big deal, it wasn't like, 'We caught a child molester!' It was just like, 'Yeah, that's the house where the child molester lives. Hey kids, don't be stupid, or you will get molested. Just stay away from the child molester house. I know because he did something to me when I was your age, so just stay away from the child molester house.

We really did. We had a town child molester. His name was Jean Baptist. This is a true story. He liked teenaged boys. That was when you would find out, because, I was a teenaged boy. He didn't like me. I felt a little bad.

He would drive up next to teenaged boys and say, 'Hello would you like to go to McDonalds?'.....I had one friend who used to get in the car. He would be like, 'Sure, I'll go,' and he would get in the car. He would go to McDonalds and eat a burger, and then he'd say, 'See ya!' and just take off. And Jean Baptist was like 'Doh. I did not get to have sex with that child. Foiled again!' but he would always try. 'Maybe this time!'

Because child molesters are very tenacious people. They love molesting childs. It's like their favorite thing. I mean, it's so crazy, because when you consider the risk in being a child molester (speaking not of even the damage you are doing, but the risk), there is no worse life available to a human than being a caught child molester. And yet they still do it! Which from, you can only really surmise, that it must be really good. I mean, from their point of view. From their, not ours, but from their point of view. It must be amazing for them to risk so much. (How do you think I feel, this is my last show probably.) 

Because, look I can't key into it, because I love Mounds bars. I love Mounds bars, it's my favorite thing, right? But there's a limit. I mean, I can't even eat a Mounds bar and do something else at the same time. That's how much I love them. Like, if I'm eating a Mounds bar, I can't even read the paper. I just have to sit there with it in my mouth and go, 'Why is this so good? I love this so much,' because they are delicious. 

And yet, if someone said to me, 'If you eat another Mounds bar you will go to jail and everyone will hate you,' I would stop eating them. Because they do taste delicious, but they don't taste as good as a young boy does, and shouldn't, to a child molester. Not to me. Not to us, because we're all awesome."

There were some loud groans (prompting that aside about this probably being his last show), but many more loud laughs in response to this monologue. You can see the monologue in it's entirely here.

Child Molestation Is NOT Funny

First, and most importantly, let me tell you this: Child molestation is not funny, just like rape is not funny. To remind you of how serious child molestation is, I encourage you to always replace the words "child molestation" with "sexual assault of a child" when you hear or read them. Do not let the less shocking term "molestation" lull you. There are no forms of sexual assault about which you should be making jokes.

What did Louis C.K. Say About Child Sexual Assault On SNL?

Now let's look closely at what exactly Louis C.K. said last night on SNL.

"Yeah, that's the house where the child molester lives. Hey kids, don't be stupid, or you will get molested."

If this was a representation of how things have changed since the 70's, well, they haven't. Not that much. I don't disagree that this victim blaming was rampant then - placing the onus on the child to stay away from the child molester, to not be "stupid" and get sexually assaulted. Not much has changed in 2015. And while we might make a bigger deal about people who sexually assault children now, while there may be stronger sentencing (not strong enough), restrictions on how close a child molester can live to a school, and registry lists, these things have not stopped 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 6 boys from being sexually assaulted before the age of 18.

"Just stay away from the child molester house."

If only it was this easy. The registry lists we have today provide many people with a false sense of security, creating much the same situation as Louis C.K. describes in his childhood. We can all easily look on the computer, and find exactly which houses contain a convicted child molester. And it is absolutely a parent's responsibility to keep their children away from those houses. But what we can't find on the registry list are the houses that contain a child molester who has not been convicted. And these houses, they are dangerous. They are prevalent. And they are visited by children every day.

This advice to stay away from "the child molester house" is great - unless that is your home. Your grandparents home. The home where your parents take you for family gatherings. The home of your babysitter. The home of your mom's best friend. The home of your scout leader. The home of the respected neighborhood doctor or lawyer. Not all child molesters are creepy guys riding around in a car trying to lure kids to McDonalds. In fact, that is the profile of very few child molesters in the 1970's or in 2015. Most people who sexually assault children are in a place of trust or power in a child's life. They are, at the least, usually someone the child knows. They very well could be neighbors, but often are the neighbors from whom no adults suspect nefarious behavior.

Kids aren't stupid. They do not want to be sexually assaulted. And in the real world, when it isn't a joke line designed to show how "even the child molester didn't find poor Louis sexually attractive when he was a teenager - poor teen Louis just couldn't catch a break, would he EVER get laid?" there are no children who are hoping someone will sexually asault them. There are children whose reality is being sexually assaulted every day, often by the very people who should be protecting them.

As for the kid who foiled the child molester, time and time again? That story just serves to further the mindset that children are responsible for the behavior of predators. Louis' friend was able to get all those free Big Macs without being molested. He probably even got a side of fries and a milkshake. Those other kids just weren't as smart at playing the game. Stupid molested kids. They were basically asking for it.

Molesting A Child Isn't Comparable To Eating A Candy Bar

Let's move on to the Mounds bar comparison. I've listened to the monologue several times, and I still don't have a clear understanding of what I am supposed to take away from this section. Should I feel sorry for these child molesters who are so very addicted to young boys that they just can't stop sexually assaulting them? Should I now understand a child molester's drive to continue sexually assaulting children? Should I step back and wonder how something that just feels so good could really be wrong? 

If Louis C.K. wants to approach child sexual assault as an addiction, he will get no amens from me. While, yes, addiction can have far reaching consequences, and other people may be hurt by the addict and his actions, sexual assault is a crime that always hurts another human being. Period. There is no true comparison that can be made between addicts and child molesters.

I have no minutes of my life that are worth wasting on wondering how amazing the experience of raping a child must be, so I can finally understand why child molesters commit their crimes.

The same is true for rapists who sexually assault adults. Or serial killers who take great joy in not only murdering their victims, but also enjoy keeping their bodies close, or even eating them. Maybe dead humans taste really great like a Mounds bar. Hey, Louis C.K., shall we have a conversation about the taste of dead human flesh? Maybe we can help everyone understand it a little better, so we can further normalize murder and cannibalism the way society and the prevalent rape culture continually strive to normalize rape and child sexual assault and abuse?

Child Molesters Are Tenacious And Manipulative

Louis C.K. was right about one thing: child molesters are tenacious. Most child molesters groom their victims, often working slowly over a period of months or even years to set up the situation perfectly. They thrive on making children feel like it is their fault, and teaching the child that the child will be in trouble if anyone finds out what happened. When a child believes the molestation, the abuse, the sexual assault, is their fault, they will not tell anyone it is happening. 

THIS is why it matters that his monologue played up the idea that only stupid children get molested with the narrative children should just stay away from the child molester house unless they are smart enough to beat him at this own game and get a free burger.

The only thing he accomplished with this monologue is spreading the same, tired, rape apology, and reminding child sexual assault survivors that they deserved the abuse and rape because they were just too stupid to avoid it.

One last thing. Louis C.K. said,

"they [Mounds Bars] don't taste as good as a young boy does, and shouldn't, to a child molester. Not to me. Not to us, because we're all awesome."

Are we all awesome? The entire SNL audience? No. We are not, Louis C.K.

When you make jokes, rationalizations, and otherwise irresponsible comments about child molestation, or any form of sexual assault, you are not speaking to audiences who are all awesome. There are child molesters and rapists listening to your words. And even as you say young boys shouldn't taste good, you are being dismissive about what child molestation really is. Being a child molester is much worse than just not being awesome.

In this monologue, Louis C.K. set aside the very real damage to the victims and survivors of sexual assault. When you normalize child sexual assault and the predators who commit these crimes, you reinforce the believes of rapists that there is normalcy in their actions. Nothing about this monologue challenged rapists, child molesters, or rape culture. It was not a smart commentary on a difficult subject. It was just another joke about rape that wasn't funny.

Remember that this monologue was prepared in advance. Louis C.K. had time to think about what he was going to say, and most likely said it in front of other people during rehearsals. Since he specifically spoke about the rape of young boys in this SNL monologue, we can set aside the (incorrect) common belief that rape is just a women's issue. Unlike what Louis C.K. said in the wake of the Daniel Tosh rape joke situation, calling out inappropriate jokes about sexual assault (about the rape of an adult or a child) is not just women saying "This is how I feel and my feelings should be everyone's primary concern." And the conversation we have about his monologue does not have to place men and women on different sides, because jokes about sexual assault are everyone's concern. They send a seriously dangerous message out to the world, harming both women and men, boys and girls.

Rape is not funny. The end.

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