Folks,

Dux:

It is good to hear you are planning another holiday. I am not all that familiar with Pembrokshire. However from your post I think I can safely assume at least part of it is near the big wet spot between your land and mine.

If the young ladies in their tiny bikinis are marring the landscape for you then please send them here. Our NC beaches are spectacular and our weather has been ideal for several weeks. Tell them to bring plenty of barbecue sauce to slather on their pretty backs, legs and ummmm sundry other tender places for we've had heat advisories daily for over a week now. The dew points and humidity have been oppressive especially inland. However a visit to our "Crystal Coast" is just the ticket for this kind of weather.

As a further incentive I solemnly promise to help apply said tanning aid to every lovely lady who claims to have been chased off a beach in Blighty no matter what the current weather may actually be. It is after all the least I can do for good relations between our two countries especially now that Mr. Cameron and most of Europe are ticked off at you over pulling out of the "you know what".

Now, to be truthful, I have never actually even touched a Euro and the common market here just sells flowers, fish and local produce. So, as usual, my comments should be taken with a very large amount of salt. IMHO that was a inalienable right and privilege of Brits to do.... no matter what the consequences.

Congrats on the new card. May that enhance your gaming experience many fold. Now that lovely blond wig you've been sporting will surely appear far more sleek, soft and well quaffed. You may get more attention than expected in that role playing game...in fact, kitted out like that pal, I'd pack a loaded gun if I were you.

I hope one and all are well and Little lady "M" is enjoying her summer with all the pleasures her happy heart can stand. School starts again here at the end of August. It seems my grand kids are looking forward to it. As for me, I cannot recall ever wishing the summer would end and school commence. When I heard that distinctive chorus of Cicadas ring out in early August I knew summer was waning and September was but a few weeks away even without consulting the celestial bodies, the TV, radio or a calendar. There was a feeling of loss and a determination to make every remaining day of summer vacation the best it could be. So it was with great sadness that around Labor Day I said goodbye to every summer in those halcyon days of childhood.

Thinking on it at the moment I think that rather melancholy feeling I felt as a child faced with the end of a summer's fun was not entirely unlike the cringe I get when pondering how many short years I have left to enjoy today. We will not go quietly into that good night will we Dux, we have much yet to do and there are bags of fun still to be had.

JRT,

No, we will not be going quietly as you say. Only yesterday I was fitting weight retainers to my snorkelling weight belt. Stops the lead weights from sliding up and down but I am sure you would have already known that.

I have already and most firmly made up my mind that the holiday will be a success and anyone who has other ideas will be left to their own devices. Re-booking for late September is also an attractive proposition as I wring out the most from this year. Hell...I might even get my passport updated and flit off over to Portugal for a late spell. After all...if it's good enough for the likes of Cristiano Ronaldo and Sir Cliff Richard...well, you do see the awkward position it puts me in don't you? )))

Cheers old pal

Folks,

Dux:

One could do worse than a holiday snorkeling and sipping sundowners by the warm sea I think. The ocean breezes have been delightful here this summer and the Atlantic has so far been quite tame. The large and ever changing schools of brightly bikinied though temporary denizens of the beaches along the Crystal Coast have been a delight to behold However I am beginning to see more clearly the delights of the off season as well. Mid summer traffic can be for me a problem on the island.

NC is a fishing, diving paradise. There are so many wrecks you can dive or fish. Our waters are not as clear all the time as some other sunny areas of the world but the warm currents of the Gulf Stream are easily accessible providing many more species of fish than might be expected. Many historic wrecks have recently been salvaged here namely the un-Civil war ironclad Monitor and Blackbeard's ship The Queen Ann's Revenge. Edward Teach set up house keeping in Bath, NC not too long before his fatal rendezvous with Maynard. I've visited that town many times.I recommend getting lessons and strapping on some tanks my friend. You'll discover a whole new world.

I've recently discovered on Net Flix yet another Brit TV show I greatly enjoy. "Doc Martin" with actor Martin Clunes in the lead role. Mr. Clunes has produced several very interesting animal documentaries as well and they are all also on Netflix.

Do you recall that delightfully lovely if somewhat flatulent nurse I had a brief and rather fragrant relationship with Dux? As I recall it all now it seems her rather amazingly revealing name was Maj. Lotta Ghass. Gorgeous either in or especially out of uniform she was too. If you got her ummmm, excited however you paid dearly for the pleasure due to her unfortunate odoriferous affliction.

It is all coming back to me now. YOU RAT! Didn't I catch the two of you skinny dipping in Farmer Drubbin's pond? Do not deny it! I'd never have noticed you two down there as I whizzed over in my battle scarred Spit had I not inadvertently flown through that veritable cloud of invisible methane hanging just above the pond. The Merlin's exhaust set it ablaze and nearly blew my wings off.

Hanging there in my chute I chanced to look down at the pond when all those bubbles began to break the surface again. Fish began to evacuate the pond along with many terrified frogs and turtles. Have you ever seen a poor turtle close to asphyxiation trying desperately to hold its nose? Suddenly as I neared the ground, all to close to Drubbin's hog pen, I saw you and Nurse Ghass rise to the surface, scramble out of the water and flee into the tall grass. Just as I was rubbing my eyes in disbelief I landed amongst the hogs with terrified grunts and a malodorous splash.

Landing in a ripe hog pen would normally have been just cause for pulling a very long face and holding one's nose in disgust. This time what I smelled seemed to me far more tolerable than the air I had breather coming down. In the distance I could see the smoke from my burning plane and not far from that what appeared to me to be two naked people running for their lives through the tall grass.

It might well have been my imagination, however, as the two runners ran past and blended with the fire of the burning plane, the fire seemed to blaze much brighter for a time and a streak of fire followed the runners for a time until it suddenly went dark.

What was that Dux? Both you and the lovely lady were treated for superficial burns at the infirmary and released the same day. I'd have asked you then but for that rather sticky official inquiry regarding the loss of my ship that kept me somewhat distracted for a few days...

JRT,

I was about to congratulate you on your long memory regarding the pond incident but I remembered the immortal line from Mark Twain: 'If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything'.

To be quite honest, it was the familiar twang of our dear Olga that drew me to that malodorous spot but I was more than delighted to find Nurse Ghass taking to the waters instead.

The grand finale did indeed see us both in Station Sick Quarters but Ghass was soon transferred to an alternative hospital and I was left in the tender care of Staff Nurse Ophelia Hardrod. She seemd very keen to learn of the official inquiry you were attending and wondered if you would be back to take her on that brief camping holiday to the New Forest area which you had somewhat painstakingly arranged. I mean...what are friends for...so, it was with a heavy heart that I informed her that it would be quite a few days before your return and duly volunteered to take her instead. It was a very pleasant stay under canvas and that down filled palliase you purchased was used continually. Good choice old mate.

Folks,

Dux:

It is now known that rotting vegetation on the bottom of ponds and lakes, perhaps even methane released from the sea bottom can reduce the buoyancy of people even ships to the point they can no longer float and thus sink to their doom. At that particular time of our story I may have been conflicted had I known of the danger to you however today I am glad you survived the occasion with only a mere singing.

My favorite American author said many delightful things indeed. He once quipped that he loved everything about the opera except for the singing.

So that is why I never heard any more from nurse Hardrod. Of course there was that ugly rumor, never substantiated, that she had been kidnapped by person or persons unknown, loaded into a stolen no. 3 bus, carried to a grass field where she was loaded onto a waiting Snud 14 that had landed by moonlight and whisked away where she eventually turned up somewhat under dressed in Siberia. Farmer Drubbins was out tending his still that night and witnessed the very slow takeoff. He surmised the iron wheels of the Snud were mired up to the wheel wells in the mud and that caused a lot of drag.

There was an unofficial inquiry held the next night down at the Prince and Polecat (sorry you missed that) and other witnesses were able to come forward. One Ivanna Huggenkiss claimed to have been taking a late stroll near the clearing where the plane took off and said she got s glimpse of the pilot. She said it was a large woman. This was further verified by a corporal Woody Dooitt who was also nearby. He stated the plane sported a big red star on its canvass and wood fuselage.

Ron Sheshudhev of Studley Grange was high up in an apple tree on the Drubbins farm. He stated the plane just barely managed to clear the orchard and droned on struggling to rise higher. Oh, yes, that was a bit odd to be in a tree at night. According to Ron he was in the tree for the sole purpose of polishing the apples and not to steal any. On further examination by a skeptical farmer \drubbins several large and highly polished Red Delicious apples were found on his person.

After the apples were eaten and several more pints downed "last call" was heard and the meeting broke up.

Gents,

JRT,

Three days of glorious summer weather but now we pay! This morning the rain beats down like stair-rods
and we are wondering how much time we have left for a settled conclusion to the summer. It used to be September but recent years have been too inclement to give us some reassurance for the month of harvest.

Do you use Cloud or similar for storage? It might prove useful to me to access pages from other users but it's making a start procedure which I need to know...in layman's terms. You know...switch on PC, remove chewing gum from screen, activate internet access...

Over to you old pal.

Folks,
Dux:

Reading you 5 by 5 mate.

Until today our weather has been mostly sunny this summer. We had the hottest July yet recorded across the south. Today is overcast with promise of needed rain.

As for cloud storage, I have mostly used Photobucket for photos or sim films I wish to share and in the past I have used Google cloud for some phone photos but only what capacity they offered for free. I don't recall much trouble doing that. My primary backup has and continues to be on DVDs.

I have a new phone and as yet I have not opted to use Google Cloud for photos taken with it.

OVER {STATIC, POP, CRACK, STATIC} .......

Gents,

JRT,

Well, I had forgotten all about Photobucket.

I mostly want to assure privacy with my pics especially the ones you took of me with Ophelia in the airfield gymnasium that day. You remember...when I swore that we were only playing leap-frog? It cost me a quart of Jim Beam to get you to hand them over...with the negatives, although I never really believed you would slide them under Olga's bedroom door as you had playfully threatened.

Folks,
Dux:

Insure privacy? Is that possible? I suppose if you used a quantum computer and converted all your pix into prime and sub prime numbers with it that might possibly assure privacy... for a time. There has been a lot of research along those lines and the Chinese claim to have managed it. If they have, we have also but we aren't bragging about it.... yet.

You can make it devilish hard for most folks to get an unauthorized peek. Never assume absolute privacy online for there are those who prove every day that nothing is completely private.

Now, as for your story goes. I do indeed recall something about a few revealing photos taken back then. However it will surprise very few of our regulars that my recollection of the matter differs somewhat from that of yours...

What I recall is that it was not the comely Ophelia with whom you were playing a somewhat unorthodox version of "leap frog". The venue was not the base gym and it was MG, not I who was behind the shutter release of that hidden camera. No indeed, as usual you have got everything confused and backassward dear pal. Settle back and let me clear the record.

It was a rather sunny Saturday morning in early fall. Over here we'd call it Indian summer. The slopes and valleys of greater Studley Grange and its rural surroundings were resplendent in their brilliant fall colors. Our Danish mate MG was out biking, just meandering along a winding country lane. His trusty Kodak Brownie Starflash camera recently won off Canadian pilot officer C51 in a late night game of "Go Fish!" hung around his neck by its genuine plastic strap.

MG was, as are many Danes and Brits, a great lover of nature and an excellent photographer to boot. On this particular day he was enjoying the fall scenery in general as he searched for a very rare and illusive bird to photograph. There were many birds about that day but alas not one "Easy Nesting Nympho Bird" had he seen so far. He could not understand it. The Studley Grange Gazette had recently reported in its daily birding column that a whole flock of the large birds had recently been seen noisily feeding on one of Farmer Drubbin's plowed fields.

Hoping to get ahead of the crush of birders certain to arrive soon, MG found the field, found bird droppings and distinctive feathers but nary a bird was seen. Disappointed, but still hopeful, MG had continued down the lane several miles in a generally westward direction toward Cowards Bridge. Cowards bridge was a wooden bridge back then, it spanned a rather deep gorge as you who fell off it once will surely recall Dux. The bridge was usually in a rather shabby state of disrepair and took a considerable amount of courage to cross, especially on a heavy automobile. Thus the name.

As he drew near to the infamous bridge and took a hard, skeptical look at it, MG was not feeling especially courageous that day. A man of amny talents including a great sense of self preservation, he consulted the heavens, examined the flight pattern of several insects, spat into the prevailing breeze, and from that somehow divined that the birds had not flown over the dangerous gorge at all and were instead most likely grazing peacefully in Farmer Drubbin's apple orchard located just to his left, out of sight but no more than 100 paces south through some very tall grass. The field-craft possessed by those Danes always amazes does it not?

Stepping off his bicycle and laying it down in the grass beside the road, MG began his stealthy walk through waist deep grass toward the orchard. Soon he could see the apple trees against the brilliant blue sky. At 50 paces he detected some movement and quickly removed his camera from about his neck. Moving cautiously now, he checked to make sure the trusty Starflash was "cocked and ready".

At 75 paces he stopped, held his breath and listened. Sure enough he could hear the rather unusual yet distinctive grunting sound of the large Easy Nesters. His breast swelled with anticipation and excitement. He listened closely and heard more grunting and then the much celebrated giggling sound of the female of the species. There could be no doubt whatsoever now. MG was already being showered with laurels (in his mind) by the Royal Danish Birding Society of which he had been a card carrying member in good standing for over 15 years.

He crept closer, 80 paces now, 90 paces, he could see pronounced movement in the tall grass just ahead. Odd. The grunting seemed unusually loud for birds. As he crept closer he stepped upon a dry twig and there was a loud "crack". Again he held his breath. Something was rising from the tall grass. He instinctively raised his camera and the shutter began to click convulsively, click, click, click.....!

Later on that fine day I was walking down the high street, just kicking a can and feeling sorry for myself when I happened to bump into our Danish friend as he was leaving the Apothecary caring a large manila envelope. It was the kind of envelope I always got when I had film developed. It had been a fine day so I guessed MG had been out bird watching again. On greeting him it instantly came to mind I had never seen the fellow so excited and happy. His wide grin reminded me of a full piano keyboard with only the black notes missing.

MG grabbed me by the shirt sleeve and literally dragged me around the corner of the shop and into the nearby alley. Looking like he just won the lottery, inherited a diamond mine, and been promoted to general officer in charge of entertaining the female troops; MG began removing the contents from the envelope. With trembling hands and a delightfully satisfied look upon his face he handed some photos to me. What he showed me in that alley turned what was so far a miserable disaster into a triumphal month.

Captured on film, with not one bird in sight, and as you may have guessed by now, was you Dux and a rather shocked and embarrassed looking nurse Anita Gudshagg. Both au naturel and apparently playing a rather shameless game of hide the sausage. And, to top it all off, you even had an apple in your mouth and a very startled look on your face.

Good that they were, I was told that the best photos had to go un-taken. Laughing so hard he dare not turn around to get a picture he pedaled for his life. The best but not taken would be of you Dux running red faced down the lane, totally out of breath, throwing apples and spouting expletives, but much too far behind MG's speeding bike to hit the laughing Dane.

Be honest mate, there never was any hint of blackmail. We just posted off copies of those pix to the ladies barracks, the local Vicar and the your favorite pub. And as I recall it now that bottle of JB was given in thanks.

So elevated was your reputation amongst the local lasses after those photos made the rounds that even Olga had to wait in line to get a date. By the way, not that I did not trust Brits bearing gifts mind you. I took MG's cautionary advice and sold the JB to C51 who would drink almost anything and who later reported waking up naked in jail with the worst hangover he had ever experienced (believe me, he had experienced quite a few). On being further questioned, C51 mentioned a somewhat unusual after taste. That peaked my interest so I stuck my nose into the empty bottle and a hot day in the men's latrine came instantly to mind.

Chaps,

Rog,

Quite an extensive chronicle you have put together and not one which I would like to see conveniently stored.
Kindly place it on the rusty shelf behind the alligator sump where its dubious contents are unlikely to be dicovered.

Tomorrow morning we will rise very early for our holiday departure. Most things are already packed and I am just hoping that I have lost enough lard to comfortably don my wetsuit.

There have been too many drownings over the past week as people descend upon the beaches, intent on taking advantage of the hot weather. An entire group of five drowned two days ago and another family swept into the sea as an unexpectedly large wave dragged them off rocks. A cavalier attitude to sea bathing and rock fishing can have tragic consequences.

I will drop in next weekend old buddy with any reports of special events.

Folks,
Dux:

Fear not my friend. As ever, you know you can rely upon moi. I have posted the story where only a select few will ever see it...

Let me pause to wish for you and your companion(s) a delightful holiday of sun and fun. Carry plenty of barbecue sauce for the sun can be brutal, even dangerous, to the flesh. If your suit is wet, just hang it for a bit in a sunny corner and it will dry. I doubt that it will shrink all that much. You'll be able to squeeze into it I am sure.

Oh, wait... you meant your "WETSUIT". Of course. You enjoy the sport of snorkeling as did I some years past. That is a delightful and rewarding sport indeed enjoyed by young and old alike.

Swimming at speed is a great way to keep fit but snorkeling can be enjoyed at a leisurely pace according to one's personal preference. If you've lost a lot of lard then you'll appear less tasty to the denizens of the deep at least. There are many of those to be concerned about these days as the sea continues to warm up. Plus today, one must be on the lookout for the detritus, flotsam and jetsam of human consumption in some places. Discarded medical items like needles, plastic items of all types and sizes, bottles, cans, even scraps of clothing all tossed into the sea from passing ships come bobbing in on the waves. It is a disgrace. Of course in the POSH area where you are going you are unlikely to see much of that. It has become a real problem in some areas. Soon I expect to see the stuff pop up in the bathtub.

I have adopted a somewhat healthy regime including eating better foods and exercise. I no longer do much snorkeling but I have resumed walking 1 to 5 miles per day. I do various muscle toning exercises daily and recently I've began weight lifting again after about 50 years. Do you think that odd for a man nearing 72 years of age in September? My grandson and step grandson are both keen weight lifters. My little granddaughter embarrassed and surprised my grandsons by bench pressing 30 lbs. No, she has no interest whatsoever in continuing. It was apparently enough just to show off for the smug young boys that one time.

At this point I am certainly not trying to lift heavy weights anymore. At present I am merely working out with 40 lbs and adding repetitions as I become able so to do. This done just to further tone what muscles I have. I'll probably add twenty more lbs at some point and stop at that. No need to add all that much new muscle mass at my age. Frankly, up to now the most weight I've been lifting was my own weight out of bed or the bath every morning or a frothy pint or two on celebratory occasions. The gnats are so thick these days that when walking in the evening my arms get about as much exercise as my legs do by swatting at the illusive, irritatingly persistent insects.

Be safe. Have all the fun your heart can stand. We look forward to your return and the heroic sea yarns awash with hyperbole you will relate to us then.

Gents,

Thanks Rog. We set off in 8 hours at 4AM and expect to be in that area around 9:15AM. Everything is packed, camcorder fully charged, in fact everything is remembered except for that single item which will duly be forgotten...you know what I mean.

Folks,
Dux:

Well your departure would be around midnight for us.

I certainly do recall that we always seemed to forget something important enough for us to have to consider for a fleeting moment turning back or requiring a forced visit to a big box store at our destination. That was on family expeditions only.

I never did seem to forget anything on business trips. The airline did "misplace" my luggage once in LA. However before panic set in it was located taking a side trip to Seattle and returned to my hotel within a few hours. The only explanation I can give for my good luck on business trips was that my late wife did all the packing for those,

Rock fishing? What do they do with those rocks when they catch one?

Gents,

JRT,

Returned to base yesterday after a glorious week of real old time summer sunshine. The weather must have been crossing its legs because on the morning of departure the heavens opened up and a veritable deluge swept through West Wales. How fortunate we were! The apartments were quite the best I have stayed in over the years with two lounges, 3 bathrooms, hugh kitchen diner and extended patio area with sea views. As splendid as those views were, they paled when compared with the panoramic scene presentad by the outside dining patio and well stocked bar area.

We built on our friendly associations with those families who had moved down there already which strengthened our resolve to pull up stumps and move down,too. Lock, stock and barrel.

Now, we are waiting for that further piece of good fortune which will put us in line for permanent housing accomodation around that area. Our friends are on the look-out for us and it is likely that I will be off again sometime later this month to get things moving. One particular place is likely to be available in October.

I am now looking around for boxes in which I can store those 'not very often used' items in preparation for the grand move whenever that might be.

Folks,

Dux:

Welcome back.

I'm pleased to read that you had a wonderful holiday experience. It is not unusual, I think, for any of us to dream of living in a beautiful vacation spot. It is probably most unusual however to be able to actually do so.

The official tourist season has ended on our lovely beaches on Labor Day (Sept. 5th). Yet the beautiful weather still continues. Weekenders will continue to clog the streets and highways and ring the cash registers of the merchants and inn keepers as they footprint the shifting sands for several more weeks I suppose. Then, as the colder Atlantic winds begin to rustle the sea grass and the clouds heralding the oncoming winter begin to threaten our shores, the majestic beauty of the Crystal Coast will once again become the private pleasure of our 'year 'rounders".

We had a brush with a tropical depression last week but so far this year eastern NC has been lucky with no hurricane damage. The peak of the storm season has passed however the actual hurricane season continues until November. We get one of those big storms about every seven years or so it seems and are about due for one I'm afraid. It is an ill wind that blows no good and in fact they are our great drought busters, bringing enough heavy rain with one storm to quench a drought. These huge storms can also do much damage especially from storm surgeon the coastal areas.

Good luck with the move to paradise. HINT: When the cardboard boxes are filled and begin to crowd you out the door it is the sure sign it is time to move.

Folks,
Dux:

You should have recuperated from your holiday by now including purging your ears of a few gallons of salt water and your bladder of far more beer. If not, seriously consider moving somewhere less dangerous.

This is no trivial matter mate, and I know you are a master of all trivia. If you are still recovering from all the fun and frolic of just one week think of the consequences to your liver alone should you live there 365 days every year. Also, consider the annul headache you'll suffer from just thinking of somewhere else to holiday when you live in a veritable paradise already.

Speaking of trivia, and someone just did... I well remember that fateful night several of our more educated pilots (meaning those men thought still sober enough to participate) were invited by the local vicar to participate in a pleasant evening of food, drink and friendly competition between the RAF and several locals.

The food and drink part is self explanatory however the competition was of a trivial nature. A trivia contest in fact. You'll surely recall that event for you were unanimously elected our fearless leader. The venerable Farmer Drubbins was elected the leader of the locals. The vicar was MC and his lovely wife presided over the contest as the judge. The vicar's lady was holder of several advanced college degrees. It was therefore agreed that all her decisions were final.

As I look back on it today I remember that at the agreed hour of the end of the competition we were holding our own thanks mostly to your amazing knowledge of all things trivial. The competition had been lively and the score was even. Our MC announced to cheers from the audience that a tie breaker was in order. Fortunately it was our turn first and all eyes were upon you as the question was read by the smiling vicar.

There was total silence in the grange auditorium at that pregnant moment as the Vicar read the deciding trivia question. Clearing his throat and effecting his most Arch Bishop of Canterbury voice, the vicar pronounced every word in a perfectly sonorous English voice:

" Gentlemen, our final question is, 'Where do women have the curliest hair?'"

A nervous titter came instantly from the audience and some of the contestants but each one was instantly quenched by a stern look from the vicar's wife. When quiet was restored in the hall you seemed to be struggling with a giggle yourself but somehow you managed to stifle it. Expectant smiles on all our faces, in our own way we individually thanked God it was not our own turn to answer that tricky question. Holding our collective breaths, we eagerly awaited your answer......

The correct answer to that question, as many readers will undoubtedly know, is Fiji.

Unfortunately for our side, with sweat popping out on your brow and every vein in your face showing the strain, you looked up at the ceiling, possibly begging for help from above, and rather hesitatingly spoke your answer. Your chosen answer was NOT Fiji.

Your words still hanging in the air, the vicar's wife fainted dead away. Nurse Lotta Ghass rushed to her fallen side with smelling salts. The locals suddenly realized they had won and broke out in shouts of joy. Gales of laughter mixed with gasps of astonishment broke out in ripples across the audience as the vicar, red faced with indignation, marched across the stage, grabbed you by the throat and unceremoniously threw the lot of us out the nearest door.

Unfair! Grumbling all the way we stumbled cold and dejectedly down the muddy lane toward the pub. So it was later that night we were having a few compensatory pints at the Prince and Polecat. To a man, everyone there, contestants and others alike, we all agreed that your answer, though officially unacceptable was indeed technically correct. At that moment, prior to receiving official joint notification from the RAF and the vicarage banning us from any and all future competitions for 5 years or until you resigned your commission whichever came first, we were pledging revenge for this outrage in next year's contest. Alas it was not to be.

Folks:

Sadly it seems this old forum is nearly kaput. Only a few threads left and apparently only this one recently active. By active I mean I am currently typing. Perhaps no one is currently reading? What has happened to you Dux? Everyone else seems to have gone permanently AWOL. Is there a boozeup going on somewhere I was not invited to?

All things come to an end I guess and you have had a very long run Mr. SNAFU. I'll continue to check in daily for a while to see if anyone staggers in.

Hello chaps,

Oh, I'm reading all-right, this forum and the diaries of a chap called Hogarth whom I'll see perform his "Natural" show later this month. Hogarth is of course Steve Hogarth and "natural" means with piano and voice so it's not what some of you might have thought.

Currently debating whether I should go see Manfred Mann's Earth Band, or what is left of it anyway. They're appearing at a venue close to here where I live but from fairly recent videos on YouTube perhaps this is one of the occasions where it is better not to meet the heroes of one's youth? They seem to have run out of steam.

I was given a physical book weighing half a ton, City on Fire by Garth Hallberg and researching whether I should start reading it found out that apparently the perpetrat.... the author received $2 mill. by the publisher, a lot for a first novel. Sadly it is the Danish translation and I've spotted some spotty and dodgy bad language, not swear words or such, just imbecile use of some phrases that signify a sloppy attitude to the use of language. On the other hand, the American version would probably be a bit tiresome for me to read as the author is very fond of showing off his mastery of the entire thesaurus.

We're currently enjoying a spell of fine summery weather, making it hard to find excuses to go indoors, at least during the daytime. Daytime is shortening with increasing rapidity, sun rising later and setting earlier every day.

Count me in as a new guy, but I do check the forum and this thread, -among others. (hic)...excuse me,... daily.
Pretty sure there are others that do the same. If there was a booze up, I did(hic)n't get the word either.

Surely the topic is not exhausted, between the adventures, (flying ones) and otherwise mentioned and brought up so masterfully by yourself and other story-tellers.

I wonder if the increasing number of so many new gadgets like tablets, smart phone capabilities and the VR contraptions is taking up more and more of the available time?
I would prefer a simple phone to make calls, but while resenting being chained to the iphone, I can appreciate its usefulness. -As long as it still fits in a pocket.

The granddaughter that does not seem to answer voice mails seems to spend three times as much sending and receiving messages on subjects that could be resolved in one-tenth of the time had she used the phone part of the damn tool.

Unfortunately, the lady I share the house with sometimes seems to have come down with the same malady.-Especially when grocery-shopping and I'm trying to get my brain cells to function on something else important, -like steering flying machines from a desk.

The new small tablet in the house hasn't had much rest; and the cardboard google box that has taken me SCUBA diving again in a NY Times production has almost convinced me that VR has even more of a future in gaming that I thought possible.

Excuse me, I am being interrupted by a damn electronic beep indicating she found her phone again. I must get better at hiding it.

Gentle Men:

I am delighted that you are lurking about in spite of the trash I post. Dux has a masochistic bent so I admit I am a bit surprised he has not clocked in. Perhaps he is packing for the BIG MOVE to paradise? IMHO moving is just good practice for Hell.

MG:

I've heard the tune "Naked" from "Not the weapon but the hand" with Richard Barbieri. That is my only experience with the music of Steve Hogarth.

I recently watched a "foreign film" with subtitles. It was a 17th century based movie titled "The Admiral". This is is a Dutch film starring Frank Lammers as Michael de Ruyter. If you haven't seen it there is a sad if historical ending. The ending must have been factual because the second time I watched it the ending was precisely the same. The English actor Charles Dance played a delightfully human King Charles II. I was surprised and pleased to see an aging Rutger Hauer of "Lady Hawk" and "Blade Runner" fame. He is the only Dutch actor in the film I had seen previously.

As for the book you mention, according to the NY Times "Locating the best of times within the worst of times is no mean trick." That they said was especially true in a historical novel. Many of us lived through the 70's so we well remember the good and the bad of that time. The Times call Hallberg's book "Dickens size" but indicate he has pulled off the balancing act in "City of Fire". I almost exclusively read non-fiction myself these days. Let me know what you think when you have finished the heavy tome.

Manfred Mann? Why not go? Apparently the geriatric crowds still flocks to see the aging members of the "Rolling Stones" shuffle on stage including the never pronounced dead but quite often embalmed Kieth Richards. I suppose that if Elvis were alive today he would also be shuffling onstage in Vegas using his gold lame plated walker replete with black Karate safety belt and 1960's Cadillac tail fins to cheers and applause from elderly but adoring fans.

Fittop:

So many gadgets indeed. I remember when I greatly resented the startling BEEP! of our alarm clock and having a pager strapped to my belt. That was back in the dark ages. Today I no longer need either alarm clock or pager yet I can be reached 24/7 (even by strangers) no matter where I may be and no matter how private may be whatever I am doing at that time. The most ironic thing about it is I willfully pay for the privilege.

It has been some time now since I have caught sight of any teenager without a phone pressed to their ear. Wait. Come to think of it.... the one time I did see a kid without a phone at their ear it turned out they had cordless buds stuffed in their ears and the phone was in their lap.

Those without benefit of Bluetooth seem to be relegated to a life of doing everything one-handed these days and, yes, especially so shopping at the market. The worst that can happen there is a four cart smash up and a few busted watermellon. On the road however you are only as safe today as the worst texting driver you may meet.