Britannia Rules The Heart.


I sit with the ice pack at the top of spine, comforting the tight muscles around this bony point.

A British Transport Film. Work in Progress-1951 British Transport Films is on YouTube on LMS 4767, a marvelous channel. He/She has compiled some extraordinary films depicting British life from roughly 1938 onward. These are what we call Industrial Films, promotional films put out as public relation pieces for business. As such they depict a perhaps inaccurate “perfect” world. But such a lovely world it was.

Men wore caps and hats, suits, neckties. Women wore skirts and hats. Almost all of the ladies used makeup. Sometimes there was smoking depicted, usually the gentlemen.

Since this is Britain, the attention to landscaping, gardening, and horticulture is meticulous.

Postwar Britain was a long period of recovery from the war,coupled with the implementation of Labour (Socialist) initiatives like nationalization of the railroads. These films show pride in the British way of life. At the end I am longing to live in a village in Somerset.

6:00 AM


I have been up since about four. I can Feel the tiredness seep back into my brain, as I watch the street and rail scene in Ashland on Virtual Railfan LLC on YouTube.

I waited and watched til #98, the Northbound Silver Meteor sped by on its way to New York from Miami. It is a lumbering beast of a train with sleeper cars and a dining car. It usually runs late, anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours.

A little pain woke me up, but not too painful. I wake up and immediately feel vulnerable, so I put my jeans on. I make coffee, sit and watch the trains, or an infomercial about the air brush makeup applicator. I like to watch the women smile as this little paint sprayer magically transforms their faces. Faintly absurd.

I haven’t seen the master of the infomercial, Ron Popeil, in a long time. I wonder what happened to him. Imagine someone, unbelievably rich, who sits at home all day and orders every item sold through the infomercial genre. Absurd? Yes.

I hear another train horn.As yet, I don’t know if it’s a CSX freight or an Amtrak passenger train. It has yet to pass through town. Here it comes. It is #53 Amtrak’s Northbound Autotrain, running nonstop between Sanford, Florida and Lorton, VA. Quite the sight it is.

OK. Back to bed.

End Of The Day


Where do I start? It was a good day. Got some money deposited in my checking and bought fruit and seltzer and fish for dinner.

I wanted a donut, went to Dunkin’ Donuts, and bought two. They were OK. Not worth the WW points or the calories. I tried to take a nap with moderate success.

I went swimming, five days in a row. I had not done that in a while. The total for the week is over 6 miles. I am on pace for a good month. After a few setbacks, I should have a total of 100 miles swum between January and the end of June.

I came home, rested a while, fixed dinner. Grilled salmon, cold vegetables from last night, fresh tomatoes. I just finished some sliced fruit, mango, strawberries, and bananas.

I’m watching Sam Peckinpah’s The Wild Bunch. This may be my favorite Western of all time. The acting, story, action scenes, even the score work brilliantly.

So my neck/shoulder issues are greatly improved. The swimming, coupled with pain meds, heat and ice post workout are working.

I think I will watch Seinfeld now.

Where The Brain Wanders

I know. The metaphor is ridiculous, even creepy. The Brain, organ of thought and control wanders only to the extent its owner moves about.

But here I sit as my thoughts follow no particular direction.

  1. I used to smoke a pipe, I miss fiddling around with the paraphernalia: pipe, lighter, pipe nail, tobacco pouch, pipe cleaners, tobacco. It was a hobby in itself. But how I felt was no fun.
  2. Porn. The stuff is so bad. Yet honest sharing about sex is so compelling.
  3. Swimming is so liberating
  4. I don’t know what to fix for dinner.
  5. I care less and less about sports with each passing day.
  6. There is no “One Size Fits All” to human sexuality. But there is still room for rules.

Early Morning



It is early around 4:00 AM. I don’t have the shoulder pain or the arm tingling related to the pinched nerve. It is getting better. The low pain/no pain intervals of how I feel seem to be getting longer. I woke up about an hour ago, overheated more than in pain. I had been asleep since around 23:30.

There is all this stuff that needs to be done. Actually it doesn’t strictly need to be done. Nobody is going to die of typhus if I don’t clean the house. I won’t trigger a nuclear exchange between the U.S. and Russia if I don’t sort the mail. The status quo of stagnation will simply continue. That’s the way it is sometimes.

After contemplating my lethargy, sloth and ennui, for a sufficiently long period of time, I stopped staring at Ashland and its railroad tracks and went to fix J’s lunch, chicken salad, cherries and blueberries, a Sargento’s Balanced Break cheese snack, rice crackers, and a Clif© Bar, (peanut butter).

I am back to trainspotting and noting that I am markedly sleepier than I was about two hours ago. I woke up, sat around, wrote a blog post, waited to see some trains go by, did a necessary chore. I took that little bit of drama out, that drama being the feeling of angst that there is something wrong with me or my marriage or the cosmos itself that would disturb me enough to wake me up from a sound sleep.

I just woke up. Now I’m sleepy again. Night, y’all.😪.




Today, I made the vegan veggie burgers and had them for lunch.

I used the rest of the pinto beans in chili. I thought it was too tomato-y so I cooked some pasta real quick and served the chili over pasta, Cincinnati style. J liked it. I did too. My brother-in-law, an Ohio native can give me a refresher on the full Cincinnati Chili protocol, all the way up to “5 Way“.

I got a swim in. My weight is down over 2 lbs from Thursday. I swam 2050 meters in the same time as I did Thursday. J and I attribute the weight loss to running out of high fat, high carb foods in the house. Could be. It is almost a relief to go through the frozen food.

I watched some more D-Day related documentaries on YouTube. In many ways, it is the classic Anglo-American Epic Myth, in the positive sense of the term.

Now Popeye has my attention, timeless Popeye. He is, more than any other cartoon character, an urban character. The action takes place in cities. The Fleischer Studios were in New York, not Hollywood. One way or the other, he continues to delight me, as he has for almost 60 years.

Getting my erotic groove back. More later.

Veggie “Burgers”


, ,

I was thinking about making my own veggie burgers, vegan and gluten free too. So I took:

  1. 1/2 cup cooked pinto beans
  2. 1/2 cup cooked quinoa
  3. 1/4 cup (roughly) tahini (sesame butter)
  4. 1/4 cup tapioca flour
  5. Spices, cumin, garlic, turmeric.(anything else your little heart and taste buds desire)
  6. Mush it together real good and form patties.
  7. Cook over medium heat till brown or you lose patience and want to try then out..

I fixed them , fried them in a non stick skillet. They might brown better using some oil.

Anyway, they were pretty good. I might switch up the legume, using black beans. If I used garbanzo beans, it would pretty much be a falafel.

But the idea of spending money for frozen veggie burgers is over. I can make my own.

Power To The People!

Post Script.

I use a pressure cooker, Fagor Lux Multicooker, to be exact. It greatly expedites the cooking of dried beans, (all types) and grains like quinoa. You don’t need one, but it sure helps.

Submissive Seduces



Occasionally the moments arise when formality and dogma and rightness fade. I see you naked and soft and vulnerable. That whatever power I may have, I offer to you. I am the paltry gift of yearning and tumescence, of service and surrender.

Maybe we can freeze this time. You and I can both forget what we’ve been told. Or what we have chosen. Life can begin again between you and me. And out of the tingling, the sweat, and the bother, we can kindle the fire anew.




It is Whitsunday, the Solemnity of the Holy Spirit. The chant Veni Creator Spititus is chanted on this Sunday, if you are fortunate enough to attend a parish that still does chant. I was not Catholic at the time of Vatican II. The Latin Mass was the rule. Now the novus ordo Mass rules the day. One can attend Mass and not hear a word of Latin.

There is an AA meeting in town where the ongoing topic is “How is God working in my life.” As a Christian and Catholic, it is easy to understand this topic to be about the working of The Holy Spirit, the Third Person of The Most Holy Trinity. It is depicted as the dove descending.

As I write, I am watching India vs Australia in the World Cup competition from London. The British Empire lives on, in spirit, at the very least. Both sides have extraordinarily talented cricketers. The tranquility we see on this sunny day is in contrast to the turmoil Britain faced seventy five years ago.

And so this game, as trivial as it is, is testimony to the human yearnings for freedom and of peace, desires that the vanquished of that time held in disdain.

The Holy Spirit at work?