"Our Companion Animals, Our Selves feat. Kay Ulanday Barrett

Power power power not pity pity pity power power power not pity pity pity pity power power Welcome to Power Not Pity, a podcast all about amplifying the lives and loves of disabled people of color. This is all about creating safe spaces to pass the mic. I'm Brian and the show is back for a brand new season brand new season brand new energy. I'm so excited to share this next batch of stories y'all. They are so vibrant. But before I begin I have to do something dear to my heart. That's thanking all the people who support me on Patreon. It's been a while but since the first season ended I've had so many wonderful people come through and drop some coin into my pocket every month. Thank you thank you thank you to Jen Lynn, Alyssa Stars, Ashley Steven, Averine Keating, Kiko Wright, Laura Flanders, JB Bragger, Jessica Lewis. Laura Mints, Lattoni Alvarado Rivera, Fran O'Deth, Eric Anox, Charlie Garcia Spiegel, Homo Ground, Dylan Marin, Janelle, Selina Pachuri, Ryan Easterly, Sylvia Noak, Jennifer Miller Smith, Ashley Taylor, Orion Stephanie Johnson, Kevin McKeeced, Katie Neuhaus, Abigail Safi, Abigail Savage Lou, and Samaya Amitula Foster. All of you means so much to me. Your pledge symbolizes your commitment for helping me build my dreams of empowering disabled people of color and mass media. If you, dear listener, like the show and want a little extra access to the show, check out my Patreon account. It's patreon.com/powernotpity. This season I'm going to explore the idea of survival. I think it's just the right time to start talking about this idea. So many disabled people I know have this concept on their minds. They're practically all their lives, you know. But since the beginning of the pandemic disabled people have shared their experiences and knowledge and truth that the world online. So I'm going to be talking about survival. Survival. What does survival actually look like for disabled people of color during this time? What do we need? And what are we currently entitled to that the state does not allow us to have? What has systemic oppression and white supremacy denied us? And what have we carved out for ourselves? This season is going to range from dogs to art and activism to music and more. This first episode, our companion animals, our selves is special because it's a new beginning. But it's even more special because it features my homie, my best friend, Kay, Alonday Barrett and their dog, Biggie. Although we're going to talk about our lives together, this episode is really focused on their dog. Because I think our pets have the power to keep us surviving, thriving and breathing our next breath as we stroke and cuddle and dance and quarantine with our beloveds. So let me tell you a little bit about this amazing human Kay. Named one of nine transgender and gender non-conforming writers, you should know by Vogue. Kay, Alonday Barrett, aka @BrownBrownBoy is a poet, performer and cultural strategist. Kay has been featured at the Lincoln Center, the UN Symphony Space, Princeton University, Tucson, poetry festival, New York poetry festival. The Dodge Boergy Foundation, the Hemisphere Institute and Brooklyn Museum. Their contributions are found in American poets, the New York Times, Buzzfeed, Asian American Literary Review, PBS NewsHour, Race Forward, Nylon, The Huffington Post, Bitch Magazine, and more. Their first book was "When the Champ Comes, Oppo Topside Press." More than organs, of a sibling rivalry press, is their second collection. And it is so good, y'all. You should check it out. More than organs. Currently, Kay lives outside the New York City area of his jolly dog and remixes his mama's recipes whenever possible. Y'all, this interview is real as they come. It's so real, we even start crying in the studio. Are you ready to juke some tears? Okay, that was really corny, but I know it will definitely tell us at your heartstrings. But let's begin at the beginning, shall we? Listen in, as we talk about the origin story, okay, baby. I think being disabled and in chronic pain, especially in being a trans person, that's isolation and multitude. And so I knew that I needed someone, and it didn't have to be a human person, a bipedal creature, to support me. And sure enough, my previous partner, we interviewed and found this dog. They're a trainer upstate in New York, and this dog, there's footage of this dog meeting me. And I just sat down outside and biggie, dopey, lab-hound, drowls, velvet ears, extraordinary. Just jumped up next to me, sat down so politely and just cuddled. And I was just like, "Oh, that's it." I made sure, obviously, that he was health trained. And also, we have an affinity, is that he was a service animal school dropout. Yeah, he was too social. Yeah, so when he sees other dogs, that's why walking him isn't difficult, but isn't like the best. He's not the most perfect canine good citizen. He wants to greet and hang out and socialize with everybody. So, Biggie and I started that way. And at first, he was splitting his time in care support. And, you know, if I got PTSD, if I got the shakes, any of those things, he would split it with my other dog. And now that I lost that previous dog, Biggie is my main man, my main team. Yeah, my number one. And anybody I date, anybody I befriend, I have to, you know, bring out the lit roller, bring out the peanut butter. Give it casual orientation. Yeah. What does that orientation entail tell me? I mean, even with people who I host and they're my guests, I was like, "Look, you know, my dog is very sweet and loyal and is a lover." And so, he will follow you everywhere to the end of time. I feel like even to his detriment, you know? Yeah. Yeah, so when you meet him, you just gotta give him a little love, positive reinforcement. And that's usually by way of peanut butter cream cheese, and then you along, there you go. You have, you have literally a dog for life. Wow. Yeah. And that's what it is. And if walking is different, feeding is different, XYZ. But in general, like, he wants to lay by you and rest by you. And I'm a very, one of my love languages is physical and physical affirmation. And for me, that never, ever always has to mean like romantic, right? Oh, yeah. That's why people get massages. That's why people, you know, get acupuncturers like the touch or the healing touch. So I find, especially when I'm in chronic pain, you know, a lot of people also like weighted blankets. Right? Me too. Yeah. Yeah, I love warmth and weighted blankets. Fantastic. Yeah. And so Biggie literally will lean when you're, when I'm in high pain and espasm, he will just know. And also when I had top surgery, actually, he knew not to be in that vicinity at all. So, yeah, when we met, it was just, I feel like we're very compatible souls. Yeah. And to anthropomorphize him, he's just, he's at the ready, like, he's loyal as hell. Like, I feel very, I feel an affinity with him. Because when he chooses you, that's it. Yeah. He's there. You have to do something pretty wack, so that's honestly like pretty messed up for him to not connect with you. But you know, he's a coddler. Oh, I know. I know pretty well. Come over just in just my dog. Be with Biggie. It's not about you. Be on my podcast, okay? Let's talk about Biggie. Talk about you, okay? Clearly. No, he deserves all the shine. Yeah. Yeah. He's like, he honestly has saved my life repeatedly, not once, not twice. So you said that there's this kind of orientation that you have towards him. That's, you know, not romantic, but still very, very significant to you. He almost leaves space like this unsaid space and interdependence that we've had particularly with dogs, right? Like, I think dogs themselves, the level of oxytocins are continuous. Well, after infancy, unlike human babies, where the human babies during a first, you know, that first year is like oxytocin, oxytocin, oxytocin party. Yeah. That gradually ends. Whereas puppies, they constantly, dogs, that's just what they do naturally, right? Yeah. And so they give off that oxytocin, right? I mean, it's just, it's inevitable. Biggie's energy is just so, so contagious. No, and I think that people, you know, you can come home from a bad day or any day, your outfit can be waxed, somebody can be terrible to you. And just every time you come home, here's a present that's just excited for you to be you. And also excited because they know they are going to get food. There's a contract. It's very clear. It's not like humans, no? I feel like with my animal, it's clear when I say sit. There's a hand gesture. I trained it to a click and treat. It's a contract, right? Humans are messy. Yeah. Tell me more about that contract, right? Like, how do you think it's morphed over time in terms of the journey of your disability? Mm-hmm. I think, you know, I think with Biggie, what is really palpable with him is he's, he is so intentional and knows when somebody's upset. Like, you've seen it, right? Somebody's crying, somebody's shaking. And he'll just, there was a time when I literally, I was talking to someone and, and one of like the bedrooms and I just started sobbing. All of a sudden, poof, he bashes the door, sits on the bed and puts his head on my lap. And that's it. Like, he can sense it. And people say with dogs who can tell people have spasms or faint or you can't necessarily train that. They can just naturally tell through your pH balance the way you're sweating, your chemical changes, your mood fluctuations, your sweat patterns that that's happening. He doesn't know that he's a helpful medical tool or a thoughtful support strategy. He's just like, this is my person, something I notice something happens to my person. Or this doesn't even have to be his person. It doesn't even have to be me, really. All the time people come by, are upset or depressed or sad or in chronic pain. And he just literally will sit there or rest his chin on the part that hurts or lick it or pay special attention to the area. I don't, I don't think that's ever changed for the total of almost a decade. Yeah, wow. Oh, I'm just, I'm like growing more and more in love with Biggie as this inner ego is on. No, I'm serious. Like I said, it's not about you. I know, I know. I wish I could bring him in. He would love it. Yeah, that would be so sweet. There is so much that I love about Biggie. K and I have been good friends now for six years. And throughout that entire time, Biggie was present. Even if he isn't in the room with me, Biggie survives through case survival and vice versa. He's all heart. Those dopey eyes that look deep inside you, the fur that always, always gets on your black jeans. The way he follows you to each room and then knows exactly when to rest exactly where you need him to be. To tell you the truth, I've never had a choice in animal companionship. I'm Jamaican, so I was basically raised to think that dogs are outside animals, not inside pets. I think for a lot of disabled people, even the choice in animal companionship is significant and more than likely difficult. Sometimes I think about having one and the thoughts that come to mind take time to wade through. It's like, what can I handle in terms of taking care of this animal? Like, how could this animal negatively or positively affect the way my MS shows up in my life? There's so many questions to consider, and it's sort of like a back and forth. Biggie's helped me through so much too. He's there when I visit K, and suddenly I might experience the burning pain associated with my MS. And just like K said, Biggie comes to lay his head on my shoulder, giving me something I really only receive at night. Sweet compression. Like, he could carry the most gentle, smallest object and be like, "Here pops." You know, and it's so, wow, to have the ability of destruction and to always choose otherwise. Right? To make a choice otherwise. For me, that's so fascinating. I guess that's how I learned to love. Like, he teaches me this lesson. I could do cool things. I could do terrible things where I've internalized trauma and lash out on people. I think what's better is that I choose softness. And I see that with Biggie every time. He always chooses softness. This is my preference. I would love a pig. And you already know this. You already know this. It's so intelligent and so sweet tender. Pigs are so smart. Yes, yes. But that aside, now they know about me. Like, I thought I was going to visit you and there would be a pop-bellied little pig. There will be. Do you have names? His name will be Nathaniel. Oh, Nathaniel. Nathaniel, first sinus. Just getting back to the idea of making a choice, right? And you saying that in a way, he chose you. I want to know what kind of choices you make to facilitate your experiences with your disability. Because he's sharing so much after care and before care for me, I have to make sure he gets his too. And that's just not with my dog. That's with anybody who's my chosen family regardless of species. So he has great, I work harder so he has better food. I work harder. Every time I make money, it's for my community and those who take care of me and that includes Biggie. Right? You know, like a meal for another person who's trans. And it always comes back to me. And so for Biggie, I have to really consider how he's boarded. Where does he sleep? But also, like, is he getting stimuli? You know? Because I'm physically disabled, it's not like I'm going to be like, okay, Biggie. You and I, let's go for a run for three miles. Especially him. He could be a scent dog or a nose dog. So he likes to find things search for things. So I'll hide treats around. I'll train him. I'll freeze Kong toys with frozen food. We'll do a lot of, he doesn't, he works for his meal in the ways that it stimulates him. Right? I don't, I don't want him, I mean, he's always at home all the time anyway, right? So how do we engage that? What does that look like? I also don't, I live in a place that's not gentrified and it doesn't have a park or a dog park. Right? So it's not like, sometimes I let him out doing, like, ingrassy noles that are enclosed, but we can't just go to a dog park and let it ride, you know? So for him, I think it's really about creating tactile exercises that stimulate him mentally that get him tired. I mean, that happens with humans. We have really, if we're doing tricky problem solving or intense work, and even though we've sat in a desk all day, we're still fatigued, right? All animals are in the same way. So with Biggie, yeah, we do a lot of training, a lot of clicker training, a lot of T-O-U-C-H touches to invigorate, like just his spirit, but also set builds our bond together. So it constantly again reinforces that contract and that agreement that we have. He knows that anytime there's an action, there will be food. It's very clear, right? Even when he first was just like resting by me, I would click and treat it. Because I wanted him to know that his time is valuable and that I acknowledge his time. And when he gets that positive association, then he's just like, oh, yeah, this is what we do. It takes a lot for dogs to really, they're the one species who's really altered their lives for the human race. Like in a way that other animals can't and other ways animals don't. Even with cats, cats like that glass will get, you know, like, I'm going to scratch us up. What ifs, you know, dogs are dogs not necessarily a piece but have had to reformulate and shape their lives for us in such a way that such a power dynamic. That would ever I can do if I have to give him the best food, the best bones, you know, the warmest sweaters. Definitely, I completely understand now and see the I can just feel the love that you have for Biggie. It's just coming through this interview. What is the feeling like when you are traveling and then you come home to Biggie? What does it feel like? You know, I used to be so privileged because I could take cornbread everywhere I went. I actually did a lot of work. The animals would fall asleep with me, would go on the train on the plane and so I was really hoping to get a dog in that way. But you know, service animals, anywhere 10 to 25,000 dollars, there's a priority waiting list for people who are deaf and blind. There's a waiting list priority for people who are vets, right? So if you don't have that money, you don't have those experiences, you're kind of in trouble to get somebody who could do whose train for full service. So when I got Biggie, I was hoping he could do full service and he can't travel with me, which was a heartbreak. But I think coming home to Biggie is, that's how I know I'm home. I mean, I miss him as much as I miss my bed, right? I think this is to say he's a family member and I miss him like a family member. And also, so when I'm traveling away and I have a writer and I have needs of self-care, aftercare, you know, before a set. I'm doing a lecture for an hour than a workshop for two hours and then I'm meeting with faculty and staff. I don't have Biggie there. I don't. So, you know, what do I get from our tactile physical attention? Hey, massage, maybe, or eating exceptionally good. Or that's what I have to do because it's compensating for his absence, like his contributions are so big or huge. And so when I come home, it's that replenishment, I think, for both of us. Really, he's gotten this thing that I'm worried about actually that he has anxiety when I leave, separation anxiety. And it's not been big, but you know, when I leave, he'll go, you know, and he'll just slump down. I think we both understand like, and he knows the code as well. So if he sees us packing luggage and putting things away, he's like, oh, it's common. He knows it and I always have to give him a big treat and a big bone to transition through that shift, right? Because he doesn't know time. He just, every time I leave, I'm leaving. Right? He doesn't know this is for two days and afternoon. But he can tell the physical signs, okay, if there's luggage, if it's just a book bag, oh, pop, it's just going to work. You know, there's no book bag at all. Oh, he's just going to go out for a little bit, hang out with Brian, do whatever, do whatever, come back home. There's luggage and he sees me packing and the more intense that process is. He knows it's he can into it that it might be a longer time. So when he, when I come home, it's like jubilation every time, wiggly, but big tail excitement. Anybody who knows who comes over my house and meets Biggie, like you feel like you are the supreme when you arrive. He has been waiting for you to breathe. And it's just also me as a service top. He teaches me. Again, how to give that same kind of ecstatic to the ones I love, right? Like to be that jubilant and that giving and that affirming. Yeah, I mean, thinking about who we come home to, like what we come home to and how that's reflected in us. Like I just find it so fascinating that he's actually sort of trained your mind on how to love. Like you said, how to love. That's absolutely beautiful. I think something that maybe people don't understand is the idea that the bond between a companion animal and a disabled pet parent is so much stronger. Tell me more about that. I really think that you know there's a interdependence that happens with the dog or with any animal. I don't care if your animals a goat. I don't care. It's just. It's beyond my best friend. He's, uh, he knows my body when it's most in pain. So I think he stays human to go. And maybe as a disability justice advocate, I'm not supposed to say that. But animals won because he doesn't have an option to leave. He could easily one day just like, I actually don't want to lean into you. I don't go fuck about how you treat me. But he is persistent, consistent, and there's a structure. And when you are in workers comp or SSDI in the whole world, like the medical complex just takes you down. There's a dog who'll be there for you. And you can't rely on people the same way because we're people because there's so much systemic oppression happening. I can't rely on the same consistency that's impossible. That's inhumane to ask my chosen family partners, mentors, et cetera. And for some reason, with a bond with a dog, that's what that is. This next poem is called Sick for Sick. And this is for sick disabled queer people who love each other. And it doesn't have to be romantic. It's just kindred. So this is for spooies out there. Sick for sick. Body patched, swollen skin, hair flexed, gone rogue, mismatch knees, eggnets, quilts throughout curvature, a soft thing. She said, if we hum close, close enough that our chests touch, shared breath comes belly up, that, that is not platonic. Now breathe same air, nostril kinetic, by way of brow cleft in my brain, syllables, chop, temples, strain is something to love here. Together, when nerves are ablaze, I'm told to be blanket. Lay my torso on hers, abdomen to abdomen, core to core this. Is this what a feel does to a hill, spill it with poppies, I wait on her skill. How she will smile, how she will sigh, the human body is the heating pad, limbs bonfire, flip sheets, you can't reverse sick. Today we don't want to, chests, pulse, softest lake, come spring, we never do this again. There's only a memory of it, have her lungs cathedral, how I prayed there on the ledge of inhale, sternum sacred, coughed him, spasm luminescence, syllables stretched, muscles, sacrament, more than display. Us, pedals in overlap, us, an ampersand on fire. Yes, yes, K. That was K's performance of sick for sick, just one of the amazing poems in their arsenal. Now let's get back into the interview. I don't feel that big gets compassion fatigue. I really generally think he generates more energy being present and cuddling with me. If I'm like, yo, I'm in bed. If I sleep in, can't move, can't get food in chronic pain or super depression. He's like, all right, we'll just stay in bed. That's cool. And he knows I have to take him out eventually. So then in that interaction, I have to get up, right? Like, I have to get some fresh air, little, you know, I have to feed someone else. That kind of responsibility helps me refocus my own tasks. And I don't know if that's the same for able-bodied folks. I need a ritual and a rhythm that exists beyond the medical industrial complex. And he can ground me and with my previous dog cornbread, my previous dog cornbread, love me just the same. Super able-bodied skining going to the gym. And when I became disabled in bedcare, go, I couldn't move for nothing. Cornbread love me just the same. We trained just then from the bed, right? So it's more about the person beyond the architectural confines of ableism, right? They're just like, how's the person doing? Is that they meet you where you are. And you meet them where they are. When you train a dog, the first thing a dog trainer tells somebody, and this is, again, with either a canine good system, two service animals. Like, you're training the dog for success. You don't push the dog ever. If you hyperpush a dog, then you fail that. You failed that task. You always want to set a dog up for success. And to think, as humans, if somebody came up to us as a small young person for me, a young person of color who grew up poor, like, and the approach to teaching me and guiding me and being my friend or a mentor or what have you, in any relationship was, we're here so that you're successful. Right? What a concept! You know what I'm saying? I just will do as much as you want to do to what you want to do, and from then we'll develop. And we want you to succeed. And I think when you're training a dog as a sick person or disabled person, it gives you a new language. It gives a clarity. Again, the medical industrial complex, you are constantly coordinating, running about, getting different ideas, body shaming, people telling you you're not disabled, people telling you you're not in pain. They're all undermining your truth. With your animal as you're moving through your animal, these are facts. When you sit, we've trained you so many times with this one hand gesture, with the same delicious food, that's what happens. It is proven data. This is what happens. There's something sweet about that. There's something safe. Before Biggie enters and leaves the room, what do they do? He stretches. He shakes it off, and he stretches. It's a simple gesture. Imagine if before we had interactions, we would just like stretch it out. Imagine if before after interactions, harder soft, that we just like shook it off, dry bathed it out. Just see simple things where he does things subconsciously. Without knowing, I really secretly model my own practice. I'm like, yeah, one was the last time I was like, oh, let me shake that. Oh, goodness. I'm ready to have a new conversation, to connect with new people, or to struggle with hard concepts, or to be challenged. I think also what has taught me is that you have to always be fed. You have to always be nourished. If we're not getting food, if we're not getting water, if we're not in a safe warm place to sleep, then there's a problem. And that's for a lot of black indigenous POC and trans non-binary queer people who are disabled, or who are spoonies, who have chronic pain, like we are not getting our basics. That's it. I want a place where who I am, who you are, who Biggie is, is uplifted for who you are. We're not trying to chase a model that persists to be something else. Things can pivot and change. Not all animals are cut and paced. Not all communities are cut and paced. And I think that's important to acknowledge when we're thinking about liberation, when we're thinking about what justice feels like. It's important to have guiding principles and agreements, and also disability has taught me to learn to pivot in a way that I don't think able-bodied people know how to pivot. I constantly asked to be something else, or do something else, or to be fixed. And so I have had to learn to move and pivot for myself, and also to embrace myself at once. And I think the connection with Biggie does that. I'm in marathons trying to prove myself everywhere else. I feel as disabled people, I feel we have a tendency, because we have to code switch and talk to medical industrial complex, or talk to legal space, or talk to the state, and obviously that's exacerbated by transness, by blackness, by migration, by body size. So for me, like with Biggie, I've learned that we can create a communication that's a guideline, and that he pivots. So if I, you know, opt to spooned out, cool. I can go for walks for maybe five, six, seven blocks, cool. We learn to pivot with the moment. And I think that's what needs to happen with justice work too. Like that's a really tangible principle of disability justice is like whole body, your whole life, your whole body, all bodies are worthy. All bodies are valuable. All bodies have needs. Right. If we're quoting sins and valid, and we're talking about disability justice principles, yeah, bring all your body, all yourself, and everyone has needs. My last question is something I always ask people. So considering the fact that this is about companion animals, what do you think is Biggie's disabled power? I think his disabled power. I think he has a lot of anxiety. And I think part of that is so he is very vigilant. His anxiety has taught him, you know, I found him at a shelter. For whatever reason, whether his person died or had to give him up, there has to be some loss there. Right. He lost a person. He's, he didn't just learn to be just cuddly with me. I'm not his first person. And I don't take that for granted. I think his disability power is his ability to ascertain other people's anxiety. I think his ability to be in parallel or in concert or to support other people's anxiety. And you know, again, it's that trauma of leaving whatever that is for him. I mean, again, we don't speak the same language. So I'm completely anthropomorphizing and completely speculating. But I do think he is just so in tune with somebody who is in emotional pain. That's just fascinating to me. His level of compassion is, yeah, honestly, I don't think I have that same magnitude. So, you know, big props to my dog or to anybody else who has to do service work all day every day to humans and animals who are doing service work all day every day because that is its own fatigue, but also its own magic. Is there anything else you'd like to say? If you're interested in my work, check me out at brown round boy and boy spelled B-O-I. B is in brain O-I. Now that we're living through a pandemic, so many questions are on my mind. What does survival look for a black disabled non-binary person like me? I have to say it ain't easy. Most days I go from feeling bitter and able-bodied people are now able to see the ways in which interdependence and mutual aid works to hopeful for a major cultural shift and the way that we work towards our care and well-being. Speaking of care, we need a massive shift towards collective care. What's that? What's about fostering safety and trust, reliance, and investment in people, and affirmation, and encouragement? There's no shame in asking for help because it runs counter to how things are done in other industries such as the non-profit industrial complex and the medical industrial complex. It's all about this following question. How do you bring your full self? These are the ways that disabled people have functioned in capitalist society since it began. What we are dealing with now is what disabled people have colored, specifically have long feared, when dealing with a systemic oppression that is inherent within government institutions, and it's what bars us from living our true selves. I remember it really hitting me during the interview when Kay was like, "and dog training, the first thing a new owner learns is how to set a dog dog for success." The idea of failing a dog was so new to me that I really had to sit on how the metaphor translates to our own lives as humans. But if we did have a culture that included turning the idea of success and survival on its head, to me survival is about breathing, seeking, and thriving through abundant community. Basic needs are accounted for, and there is intentionality behind care, especially extended to disabled folks, a world that prioritizes wellness, overpriced activity, and capital. Think about that. Remote work and virtual accessibility is finally being normalized due to COVID-19, but we need to be having conversations that center disabled people of color. There are going to be people who are grieving, there will be people dealing with varying degrees of mental illness, and there will be people who will become disabled as a result of what is going on. Now that the systemic silence is broken, the world needs to listen to us, because we are the ones who will shape the new future that is to come. Thanks so much for coming on the show. Your story is about the brilliance of Biggie's presence, was a blessing. Check them out on @brownbrownboy, that's BOI, on social media handles everywhere. Thanks to Ariel for creating the quarantine reading series, which featured the poem that you heard during this episode. Okay, tenderly brought the house down with their performance, 'cause they're a tender guy. Music was by Samuel Oak, 899, and Wade Play. Want to keep up with the latest on everything Power Not Pity? I know what you do. We'll check out www.PowerNotPity.com. I'm a Twitter print, so I stay at Power Not Pity. It's the same from my Instagram and Facebook handles too. If you want a little more quick love in your life, become a patron of the show, you'll get a shout out, a chance to vote on a future guest, and you'll have access to extra videos that I post infrequently, 'cause what is time even anymore? You can find my Patreon at www.patreon.com/PowerNotPity. But yeah, thanks so much for listening and stay tuned for more Power Not Pity next month! Yeah, that's a good boy. That's a good boy. Come on.