December 7, 2025
Christine Kowalczyk, Des Moines Register
Recorded interview, transcribed with AI assistance
On Civility
You claim to be a vampire, hailing from 12th century Carpathia, living right here in Polk County.
Wow, awkward start. You are new at this? Local journalism. Pfft. So small. Good people of Des Moines can wait one moment while we orient.
First, your name. You have too many names. Confusing. What is first name—Christina. Good name. Last name is Kowal … Koalchick … Koalachuk …. last name is unpronounceable.
Also you have middle name, which you never use for anything except passport. So, that’s three names you have.
But no, actually you have four names. Unpronounceable last name you take when you marry. Before that, you have original last name, you take from your parents. That is called maiden name. Right. ‘Maiden’ name. Because you were ‘maiden’ whole time before you marry. Uh-huh. Winky face. You not fooling anybody with that.
In old country everyone have one name. Get born, get your name. Then you get your occupation added if you not die first.
Vlad. He had one name. Not Vlad Smythe, Vlad Goldblum, Vlad Kowalwhatever. Just Vlad.
Vlad survives a bout with the plague, starts making decent living impaling people on sharpened poles. Vlad is now Vlad who does impaling. So, everyone call him Vlad the Impaler. Never give him useless middle name.
Nobody liked him, by the way. Vlad the Mildly Annoying would have been better name. Always telling boring stories where he is hero. Cuts you off driving carriage through roundabout. Leaves dog’s poop in neighbor’s yard. Comes to pitch-in dinner, brings only salad. Goes home with the good leftovers. Vlad was that guy.
Despite what they say, Vlad was not very good at impaling. Lazy. One, maybe two hundred impalings, tops. Messy. Not imaginative. He had a good hype man though, helped him spread impaling reputation.
You know who was really good impaler? Jeff. Jeff the Impaler. Top notch impaling. Experienced, knowledgeable. Reasonable pricing. Cleaned up after himself.
Jeff was very funny guy. Practical joker. I come home one morning, sheeps are missing. Half my flock of sheeps is gone. Where is sheeps …? Oh, Jeff! Jeff, you rascal, Jeff! Impaling my sheeps. Very funny.
Went too far with practical joking one day, so I had to bite him. Til then though, wow, good impaler. Stoker should have made Jeff into Dracula instead of annoying Vlad.
On Governance
You were, apparently, a landowner, a Lord. That life must have been very different from Midwest USA.
How many prepared questions you have, Christina person? So boring. You are wanting fame and fortune I can see. I give you. Try to pay attention. And put away bad local questions list.
In old country I would appoint villagers to public service positions and castle household staff also. You good with hammer, you are blacksmith. Girl good at the churning? Go to dairy, make butter.
Appointing people is good system for long time. But then magna carta comes in England, parliamentary governments spring up, villagers demand democracy. So I give them elections. Chop down tree in village square for candidates to make speeches on.
People wanting mayor job would stand on stump, you know, so all the villagers can see, and make argument for why they best candidate. Social policies. Economic theories. Balancing individual freedoms with common good. How to make village nicer place to live. Feeding and care for goats and sheeps. Solving for difficult challenges with effective public policy.
After speeches villagers reflect on candidates’ arguments, think soberly, discuss merits. Then they cast secret ballot for favorites. Normally elect village idiot or town drunk, sometimes mimes or clowns.
One time in nineteenth century (that’s 1800’s, Christine, are you listening?) villagers elect very smart, wise man. International perspective. He left village young for school abroad. Studied philosophy in Rome, sciences in Paris, graduate work in Brussels and Prague. Speeches in four languages, fluent. Then comes back to village and gets elected mayor, though not a clown.
Very thoughtful, wise. Balanced judgment. Opened trading with nearby villages. Grew sheep flocks, took care of resources. Peaceful, no wars.
Was horrible administration. Not funny. Very boring. Villagers begged me to bite him. Call it a mercy killing.
On Jolly Olde England
You killed people by biting them. Really. Like a vampire.
You should know I am vampire. It’s right there in the title. Also, one does not look this good after eight hundred-fifty years just by good skin care routine. Vampire. That’s it. No spin cycle classes or macros. Just be vampire, stay out of the sun, you get good skin.
I met Elizabeth Queen of England once. The first Elizabeth I mean. The good one, not haggy pillbox-hat one. She invite lords from nearby countries to her house for pitch-in dinner, so I bring one-pot dish from Carpathia.
Elizabeth Queen used lead-based paint for skin care. Covered up acne scars, mostly, but lead made her a little crazy. She would make face all white, then paint red on lips and make eyebrows with pencil. Everyone at court supposed to pretend they don’t notice. “Oh, Elizabeth Queen, your eyebrows today so bushy and nice-looking.” Pfft.
Also Elizabeth Queen had stinky breath like Thames river. I go for nice walks by Thames in the moonlight. Trouser trouts float by. Corn-eyed sewer bass. She had stinky poopy breath like Thames. Very good at queening though. And for making theater also.
After royal pot luck I stayed in London to take in some shows. Shakespeare. He wrote many plays. Two or three good ones. William was a little secretive for me though. “Oooo, maybe I am Francis Bacon, who knows?” All arty and mysterious. Is ok though. Writers – they do enjoy their pretensions.
William did write Cymbaline by the way. Write that down. Maybe you will stop silly who-is-Cymbaline author rumors. He was not proud of it, though. Whatever. It was early.
Cyril Tourneur was good at plays. Christopher Marlowe too. Thomas Kyd and John Webster. Ben Jonson.
Ben Jonson was vampire by the way. Human people don’t know this because he lived normal short human lifetime, but that is only because his life shortened by mercy killing from vampire community. Ben Jonson was big fat, like grain silo. Arterial plaque. Bad knees. He grew too big for coffin so took to sleeping in harpsichord crate.
One night after masque we all go to his house for pitch-in dinner. Drinking blood from nice goblets. Ben Jonson stretching out on couch, to take pressure off his knees, and trying to be funny. He says, “Hey, have you seen my penis? No? I haven’t either since 1587.” Then he laugh big fat laugh.
Terrible. Embarrassing. This is no way for vampire to live. So we drove stake through his heart while he was sleeping. Good way to go. Classic. Fast. Much better than sun burning. Buried him in harpsichord box. Mercy killing.
On Sovereignty
My family was Slovakian, east-central Europe, not far from your Carpathian mountains. I hope to visit one day. I’ve heard it’s very beautiful. Very different from Iowa.
Geography. Nation-states. Pfft. In old country we did not have geography. We had villages, towns, cities. Borderlands.
First, a castle. I would stand on parapet and look out over Carpathian valley. As far as I could see from there, that was what we called the village. Good system. Our lands small, but imaginations large.
Did you know there is standard size for passports, all over the world? Is true. Human people can’t agree on anything. But passport sizes? Same size everywhere. Very funny.
Anyway, geography. Castles, villages, city-states. All is fine. Then comes 1648, Peace of Westphalia. It’s been mostly downhill since then. Borders. Invisible lines in the dirt. Really, just more things to fight about.
It’s good to have a border around Ohio, though. ‘Welcome to Ohio’ signs also helpful. Good to know when Ohio is nearby. Avoid the boring.
On Russians
You’re bored by Ohio, but not Iowa. Alright, tell me an interesting story, something from the old country, something I might have never heard before.
I tell you non-boring thing: Catherine the Great did not die in horse-sex accident.
That story is fake news. Smear campaign from political rivals. Here is truth: She was very good rider, good with horses. Good ruler too. Better than men. So, jealous men rivals start terrible rumor of sex with animal. Not true at all. Did not happen.
She was minx in bed though. Wildcat. We had fun short-term thing. Summer lovin’ happen so fast, you know. Ah, those summer nights. We’ve all had one.
She liked to play games in bedroom. Toys and games for sexy time. Ticklemelons. Pegging with Nancy. A challenging game of strategy called Mount the Donkey. Not for everyone. Fun for one summer but she was a lot. I went home to Carpathian village castle.
On Coming to America
So, here’s what I’m getting. You lived an incredibly rich and varied life. You were wealthy. You saw the world. You did incredible things. And yet … Iowa.
Ah, Christina person finally ask interesting question. In 2020 pandemic I leave castle in Carpathian mountain valley and move to America. Three reasons.
First reason: Streaming services. Hulu is good for mid-twentieth-century situational comedy. Golden Girls. Bewitched. The one with the first Darryl. Very funny.
Green Acres also very funny. Fish out of water story, you know. Good premise.
Sometimes I flip to Game Show Network. Card Sharks. Joker’s Wild—the Bill Cullen era. “Joker, joker … and the triple. Woo!” Makes me laugh.
Best game show on TV? Fox News. Has its own channel. Very funny.
Second reason: Relaxed gun laws. Biting people in America is very easy. “Oh no, what happened to grandpa? Looks like gunshot wounds. Two little ones on neck, like Dick Cheney. Squirrel hunting tragedy.” I bite human person when I need to, then pass off as unsolved crime, like Netflix. Easy.
Third reason: American girls with morally casual attitude.
I did not expect to meet wife here in America, fall in love, get married. Completely ruin third reason for immigration. Ah, et puis, pourquoi pas? C’est l’amour.
She has red hair – rare in old country. Very pretty. Small, you know, tiny. Not many people in her balcony. But pretty anyway. And no scary bedroom games or pegging.
She has day job in school library. Human people have day jobs. Vampires do not. Sun and burning makes work-life balance difficult even remote on Zoom.
I should say—takes courage for vampire and mortal human person to marry. Courage from me, I mean. One day she will perish, move on to the next world and leave me here in this one. Doomed to walk this earth alone in grief, enduring unimaginable emotional devastation without end or mercy. I will turn to the dark arts, drinking and whoring, but nothing will numb the pain or ease my suffering. Year will stack on desolate year, decade on decade, century on century, living out a miserable existence in a kind of existential twilight, not quite alive yet not quite dead, my meaningless life now an endless empty hellscape beyond mortal comprehension ….
You know, now that I think about it, would be better if she just quit day job. Near term, maybe two-three years, she keep personally rewarding job enriching minds of Windsor Height’s School System middle schoolers. Then quit and we spend eternity together.
Centuries of misery is terrible idea. I don’t know what I was thinking. Wife quit day job is much better plan.
None of this is usable.
Are we done here, local journalist Christina? Librarian wife awaits. So does Below Deck Mediterranean, new season. Lots of funny shouting. Useless rich people. Young people working hard on boat, as if important. Very funny show. You should watch.
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Matthew Millar is an emerging writer based in the Midwest. He studied narrative fiction in Indiana and Florida. He’s been a sales leader, marketer, teacher, copywriter, divemaster, and sometime sailor. For many years he thought he couldn’t grow facial hair, for some reason. His only social media presence is Instagram, which he’s not good at. Reach him if you wish at matt.millar20@gmail.com.