197 - The Life of Frank Chen
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Transcript
Here's something I say a lot, but it's just the truth.
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Did you know that over 50% of people who eat legumes end up dying someday?
It's true.
Welcome to Nightfail.
Judgment Day has come, listeners.
One year ago today, Judge Chaplin ruled that the Sheriff's Secret Police and the City of Knightvale had one year to produce a living Frank Chen, exactly as he was on the day he was murdered.
Failing that, the family of Frank Chen would receive free and unconditional unconditional ownership over the town of Knvale.
Well, a year has passed, and after several embarrassing failed attempts to fulfill the judge's order, there is no sign or word from the sheriff's office.
The family of Frank Chen is prepared to move into City Hall.
Gathered outside are Norman and Don Chen, Frank's older brothers, and Nicole Chen, Frank's younger sister, as well as Mei Chen, Norman's adult daughter, and Lyle Chen, Nicole's seven-year-old son.
This small crowd of Chens eyed the clock, waiting for the 3 p.m.
deadline that would mean they officially owned the town.
In answer to questions, they screamed, no comment, over and over.
The only exception was Mei Chen, who took me aside and said that the family feels vindicated by the judge's decision, that they look forward to taking over this town and ridding it of injustice.
And making some big bucks, her father, apparently unable to help himself, shouted.
Yeah, said May.
If we're going to get a town, I guess it makes sense to figure out how to turn it into restitution for this family, you know?
Well,
from the last hours in which Night Vale is our Night Vale, I will continue to report.
Frank Chen was born in Ottawa, but moved to Vancouver when he was four years old.
Later, he would tell people he didn't remember Ottawa, but this wasn't quite true.
He had fragments of memories.
An image of his father's hand as they walked together on his first day at preschool.
A swirl of snowflakes, their ethereal likeness made heavy and terrifying by the ferocity of the wind.
Dancing to the radio, delighted by his own mobility.
All of this he would round down later to, yeah, I don't really remember Ottawa.
Vancouver was beautiful, but boring.
He wasn't much of a nature person.
He could see the beauty and the lakes and the woods, in the sheets of rain drifting in from the Pacific, but he would rather live somewhere ugly where there were exciting people doing exciting things.
In Vancouver, there was only lumber, and then later television productions, the rainy city standing in for everything from Los Angeles to London.
Frank had few friends in high school, but the ones he had were very close.
They would film videos, little action movies and musicals.
Later, he would be glad that online video wasn't a thing then because what they made was terrible to watch, but a blast to make.
Not all work needs an audience.
He applied to 10 schools, got into five of them, decided to go to NYU because his older brother was at Columbia, and it would be good to have a guide in this new city, in this new country, in this new stage of his life.
His mother held him tight in the airport.
He didn't even pretend that it was embarrassing or unwanted.
He returned the embrace and they stood like that until he had to let her go, pick up his carry-on with his left hand, and walk up the jetway.
And now an update on Susan Willman.
As you might remember, remember, she learned the name of an obelisk, and this name has taken residence in her head.
Contained within the name is all of the knowledge in the universe, both past and future.
Susan quit her job and all volunteer activities.
I, for one, was so sad that she quit the PTA.
We'll all miss how she never filled out her availabilities for meetings and then would complain that the meeting, quote, just wasn't at a very convenient time, but no, don't reschedule it.
I'll make it work.
It's just that it's not very convenient for many of us.
It's a big loss there.
Anyway, Susan has withdrawn completely from Nightvale Society and has taken to wandering the streets, whispering little phrases to plants and small animals.
Her eyes carry a radiant darkness.
You must be careful to not look into her eyes, lest you never be able again to look away.
She has changed in some fundamental aspect and no longer seems a mere human being, but instead like something natural and vast.
A front of thunderclouds or a toxic mold destroying acres of crops.
What's next for Susan Willman?
Who cares?
Not me.
Ugh.
It is less than half an hour before the judgment of a year ago enters effect, and the family of Frank Chen take ownership of the town.
Family members are now openly discussing their plans.
Well, said Don Chen, we think there's potential for some real tourism money.
People fly in, show them the sites, let them take a look at Radon Canyon and all that.
Of course, added Norman, we'll need some more motels and public bathrooms and other infrastructure for tourists.
So some of this will need to be knocked down.
He considered the town thoughtfully.
Yeah, he continued, I think if we knocked down everything from the sand wastes to City Hall, that should do it.
When it was pointed out that this constituted almost the entirety of Night Vale, he nodded and said, could be, could be.
Who can say?
Mei-Chen quickly added that they have the best interests of the community at heart.
but also that the community covered up their family members' murder and then offered no restitution.
so maybe the best thing for this community was if it were just sliced up and sold to the highest bidder.
There's always land needed for another golf course, May said.
The drier, the better, she continued.
Golfers love knowing that their sport requires thousands of gallons of water to be shipped from a dwindling lake three states away, she concluded.
I don't know how I feel about all of these plans, listeners.
Um
bad?
I think?
Yeah,
I think I feel pretty bad about them.
NYU was simultaneously everything Frank had hoped and feared it would be.
The city was so full of activity, crammed to the corners with people striving for their ticket to lifetime success.
Only those tickets were in short supply, and mostly held by the children of the rich.
And so Frank turned to the opposite of ambition.
He took up polka.
Ludicrously out of fashion, hard to discuss with anyone out of the scene, it was the perfect antidote to the New York Big Dream.
He received a music degree, had no real plans for what it could be used for, merely knew that he liked music.
After graduation, he moved back to Vancouver.
But his hometown felt even smaller than it had before, and no one there knew anything about polka.
He spent a summer helping his father clean out the garage.
His father put an arm around him when they were done.
I know that this is a time when we don't know what next,
said his father.
And unfortunately, we never know what next.
None of us get that gift.
But I have confidence that whatever you do, it will be very interesting.
His father patted his shoulder and went back into the house, leaving Frank staring at a perfectly clean garage floor.
A month later, he moved back to New York, started his own polka band, the Big Apple Polka Players.
They mostly gigged at festivals, the occasional wedding or party.
He made almost no money.
He was very happy.
Two years passed.
Then Frank's father died.
Frank didn't see it coming because his father was too young yet to die.
It hadn't even been on Frank's radar as a possibility.
After he returned to New York from the funeral, he told his band he was taking a break.
But he knew that the break would be permanent.
He packed up his tiny apartment, gave most of the possessions away, and left New York for good.
He had no idea what next.
But then, none of us ever know what next.
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The Nightvale City Council and the Sheriff's Secret Police have filed a final desperate measure.
Claiming that the court has no jurisdiction over the town because courts are, quote, like a made-up concept that we all agree to pretend is real, while Nightvale is an actual place where actual human beings actually live.
A made-up concept can't be more important than real human beings.
Unfortunately, Judge Chaplin threw up the motion pointing out that much of our modern society is built around treating made-up concepts as more important than very real human life.
Then the city tried to get the judge to recuse herself due to the fact that her ruling in favor of the Chen family is a strong indication of her favoritism towards them, but this was also tossed out.
There are no more judicial challenges to be met, and the deadline is only five minutes away.
I'm afraid there's just no way around it.
The Chin family is about to take ownership of the town of Nightvale.
For a long time, Frank Chen moved from place to place.
Six months in Columbus, a tedious summer in Iowa City helping organize the university's music archive, three lost years in Ventura, playing Sunday nights at the Polish Community Hall in an inland strip mall near the freeway, the drone of cars a constant accompaniment to songs like the Pennsylvania polka and In Heaven, There Is No Beer.
It was after one of these gigs, as he packed his accordion away in the back of his 1998 Dodge Dakota, that he glanced up in the sky and saw something that did not belong there.
It was a planet of awesome size, lit by no sun, an invisible titan, all thick black forests and jagged mountains and deep, turbulent oceans.
It was so far away.
So desolate, and so impossibly, terrifyingly dark.
And that day Frank did not go home.
He drove instead.
He drove a long time and eventually he ended up in Nightvale.
And he stopped driving.
Life in Nightvale was kind to him.
He liked his neighbors.
Just down the street was Old Woman Josie and her mysterious friends who were many-eyed and many-winged.
and waved to him in the mornings.
Right next to him was a trailer whose occupant he never saw, but who kept their yard tidy.
He could hear their car starting early in the morning to go to some job, whatever job the person in the trailer had.
Frank didn't have a job.
He found he didn't need one yet.
There was always cash in his wallet, always food in the fridge.
This town wanted him there, and he was happy to oblige.
One day he woke, knowing that it was time.
Time for what?
He had no idea.
But he had followed his feelings this far.
He started his pickup truck, drove out toward the desert.
Was he leaving behind this town right at the moment it had finally started to feel like home?
He hoped not.
But he pitched his foot forward on the gas.
He leaned back into the leather seats, smelling their age and the faint sweetness of root beer, a scent that had lingered in his truck for years now.
He didn't know what next.
And he didn't need to know.
He could follow this feeling forever.
A large shadow with a long tail and five serpentine heads fell across the hood.
The family of Frank Chen has entered City Hall with just under two minutes left on the clock for the judgment to take effect.
Norman Chen is getting the long, vacant mayor's desk organized.
Mei Chen is asking several logistical questions like, so how does this government work?
And, okay, so there's a city council in here?
And, my God, what is this?
What is it?
What monstrous thing is this?
And where is the city council?
And, oh, that is the city council.
Okay, cool.
City Council itself is howling in terror and grief as control of the city it has so long ruled is slipping from its grasp.
Truly, this is the start of a new era.
And at the start of this new era, a man walks through the front door of City Hall.
He moves quietly and uncertainly, feeling as though he is new to this world.
He steps into the former mayor's office and sees his brothers.
Oh my god, says Frank Chen.
And as soon as his brothers see him, they understand that there is no question.
This is Frank Chen, exactly as he had been on the day he was murdered.
The judge's orders have been fulfilled with mere seconds left on the deadline.
Yeah, shouts Sheriff Sam.
Deus ex machina, baby.
Rock that one out.
They held up a rare grimoire they had bought at a dusty used bookstore on Wormwood Avenue.
Just did a a spell from this old book, and it worked.
It actually worked!
Ha ha!
Yes!
Frank Chen and his family stared at each other in quiet disbelief.
All across this earth, now and in every moment,
there is weather.
My black snake and my donkey keep the predators at bay.
The coyotes and the copperheads stay well enough away.
The power that protects me is a circle made of salt.
But when you come to get me, I won't feel a thing at all.
The vultures that surround me ride the thermals up on high.
Yeah, ever since you found me, I'm afraid that I might die.
The scarab on my pillow whispers, whispers as I sleep.
You saved me from the sparrows, now my soul is yours to keep.
Come morning, we awaken to a garnet-colored sky.
The mirror cracked and broken, making X's of my eyes.
Can't turn away the darkness, so instead, I hold you tight.
Ever since you found me, I'm afraid that I might die.
Light the fire, sing the song.
Hit the high-hat, kick the drum.
Secret language on the tongue.
Something wicked this way comes.
There's a light
without any heat.
It shines just for me, my love.
Shines just for me.
There's a night
without a moon.
It comes just for you, my love
Comes just for you
There's a lot of moon
keep their predators
The coyotes and the copperheads stay well enough
When you come to give me all
the pain in all
turn,
my pillow whispers, clusters as I sleep out.
Save me from the sparrows, now my soul is yours to come.
Come on, we awaken to a garnet colored colour.
Mirror cracked and broken, making exes of my eyes.
Light your fire,
sing your song.
Hit the the high-hat kick and drum
secret language on the top.
Something wicked this way comes.
Heat haze on the highway, there's a shimmer in the air.
Out on the horizon, there's a figure standing there.
Strange hallucinations as the sky is growing thin.
From the corners of my vision, see the shadows closing in.
Is it just sleep deprivation or the urchin on the ride?
Yeah, ever since you found me, I'm afraid that I might die.
Ever since you found me, I'm afraid that I might die.
Ever since you found me, I'm afraid that I might die.
Ever since you found me, I'm afraid that I might die.
Hey, it's Jeffrey Kraner with a word from our sponsor.
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Frank Chen found himself enveloped by his family, hands big and small clasped tightly to his back.
It's you this time, his younger sister Nicole said.
I know it, it's you.
Yes, it's me,
said Frank, unsure what they meant by this time.
There had only been this time.
Frank Chen only had the one life.
Lyle stood shy behind his mother's legs.
He had only ever seen his uncle in photographs.
Norman cried, silently, nodding as though answering a question.
It was Don who first said the unthinkable that they were all thinking.
Does this mean, he said, um,
does this mean we don't get the town?
Oh,
I guess not, said Nicole.
And Norman and Don frowned.
But but the investment plans, said Norman, it would make us a fortune.
And they owe us a fortune, said Don, after all of this.
Now Nicole frowned.
We should get the town, she said.
That's not fair, she said.
Frank had no idea what they were talking about.
What do you mean, he said, getting the town?
What is happening here?
He had reunited with his family after years away dead.
and the looks on their faces were of disappointment.
He felt his heart break.
Finally, it was May who stepped in.
You should be ashamed of yourselves, she said.
Frank is home.
Frank is home and that's all that matters.
And she was right.
It was all that mattered.
And the adults in the room were ashamed.
Even Frank somehow.
although he didn't know why.
Frank Chen moved back to Vancouver.
The city felt different to him.
Better.
He could see that there still wasn't much in the way of exciting people doing exciting things, but these days, he would rather have the beauty of the lakes and the woods, the sheets of rain drifting in from the Pacific.
He took long walks along the ocean, wearing one layer too little.
He relished feeling cold.
The years passed.
as years must.
He played polka.
He taught music.
He watched TV in the evenings and read a book in the mornings.
It wasn't much, his life, but it didn't have to be.
Because for almost a decade, he hadn't had a life at all.
Now he cherished every boring, tedious moment of this one life that had been returned to him.
When he was 73 years old, His niece May stopped by as she often did when she visited the city.
She had gray hair and the same laugh.
When she laughed, she sounded 17, and she always would.
They ate soup and disagreed about the particulars of favorite family stories, and then watched the sun set until Frank dozed off in his chair.
May sat looking at the uncle she hadn't had,
and then she had had again.
She felt boundless gratitude.
And that is the life of Frank Chen.
In the end, he only got the one.
And he used it the best he knew how.
Stay tuned next for.
Well,
I don't know what next.
We never do.
Good night, Night Vale.
Good night.
Welcome to Night Vale is a production of Night Vale Presents.
It is written by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Kraner and produced by Dispirition.
The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin.
Original music by Dispirition.
All of it can be found at disparition.bandcamp.com.
This episode's weather was Black Snake by Charming Disaster.
Find out more at charmingdisaster.bandcamp.com.
Comments, questions, email us at info at welcometonightvale.com or follow us on Twitter at nightvale radio or sing sweetly to your favorite star.
Check out Welcometonightvale.com for info about all of our great weather artists joining us for our 2022 live tour.
Today's proverb: whistle while you work, hum while you hoard, sing while you sacrifice.
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I'm Amy Nicholson, the film film critic for the LA Times.
And I'm Paul Scheer, an actor, writer, and director.
You might know me from the League Veep or my non-eligible for Academy Award role in Twisters.
We love movies, and we come at them from different perspectives.
Yeah, like Amy thinks that, you know, Joe Pesci was miscast in Goodfellas, and I don't.
He's too old.
Let's not forget that Paul thinks that Dude 2 is overrated.
It is.
Anyway, despite this, we come together to host Unspooled, a podcast where we talk about good movies, critical hits, fan favorites, must-sees, and in case you missed them.
We're talking Parasite the Home Alone, From Greece to the Dark Knight.
We've done deep dives on popcorn flicks, we've talked about why Independence Day deserves a second look, and we've talked about horror movies, some that you've never even heard of, like Kanja and Hess.
So, if you love movies like we do, come along on our cinematic adventure.
Listen to Unspooled wherever you get your podcasts.
And don't forget to hit the follow button.
Hey, y'all, it is Jeffrey Kraner speaking to you from the year 2025.
And did you know that Welcome to Night Vale is back out on tour?
We are.
We're going to be up in the northeast, in the Boston, New York City area, going all the way over to the upper Midwest in Minnesota.
That's in July.
You kind of draw a line through there, and you'll kind of see the towns we'll be hitting.
We'll also be doing Philly down to Florida in September.
And we'll be going from Austin all the way up through the middle of the country into Toronto, Canada, in October.
And then we'll be doing the West Coast plus the Southwest plus Colorado in January of 2026.
You can find all of the show dates at welcometonightvale.com slash live.
Listen, this brand new live show is so much fun.
It is called Murder Night in Blood Forest, and it stars Cecil Baldwin, of course, Symphony Sanders, me, and live original music by Disparition, and who knows what other special guests may come along for the ride.
These tours are always so much fun, and they are for you, the Die Hard fan, and you, the Night Vale new kid alike.
So, feel comfortable bringing your family, your partner, your co-workers, your cat, whatever.
They don't got to know what a night veil is to like the show.
Tickets to all of these live shows are on sale now at welcometonightvale.com/slash live.
Don't let time slip away and miss us when we are in your town because otherwise we will all be sad.
Get your tickets to our live U.S.
plus Toronto tours right now at welcometonightvale.com/slash live.
And hey, see you soon.