Monthly Archives: June 2018

The War That Never Ends

29 Friday Jun 2018

Posted by in Vietnam

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Vietnam.

It was a war filled with folly, brutality, courage, sacrifice, dubious goals, and moral ambiguity. Pretty much like all wars.

This war for my family still rages. My brother-in-law served in Vietnam near fifty years ago. He came home alive, in one piece. He resumed his civilian life, started and raised a family. He has two children and six grandchildren.

Of course, he remembers his brothers-in-arms who didn’t make it back to have the life he has had. The jungle he thought he left behind had one more treacherous pitfall he could not evade. We all have heard about the dioxin-contaminated defoliant Agent Orange taking its toll on both jungle canopy and humans unlucky enough to be caught in its cloud. My brother-in-law is one more victim. At age 72, he is suffering from Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (Lou Gehrig’s Disease). The VA doesn’t even contest that his case and others like his are service-related. Maybe from Agent Orange, maybe something else.

My brother-in-law’s war isn’t over. Yet. Every phone call from him is about what he can no longer do. He can no longer tend his gardens or play golf, except for putting. Right now he walks with canes. The wheelchair awaits. His voice is halting, as he struggles to simply speak. His respirations are about one-third of what they should be. The disease is slowly paralyzing the muscles.

He is another casualty of “friendly fire”.

Watch “Ragged And Dirty by WILLIAM BROWN (1942) Delta Blues Guitar Legend” on YouTube

25 Monday Jun 2018

Posted by in Delta Blues

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I’m going to opine just a little about the Delta Blues. The Delta Blues masters were authentic geniuses, arguably the best example of original American genius. Every time I listen to these masters, I think about what American culture has descended to.

Pop music is more or less intended as the background music for our lives. Don’t think too much, just listen. But we can’t just listen to Delta Blues on auto-pilot. The guitar chords cut to the soul.

The Cats.

23 Saturday Jun 2018

Posted by in Cats

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I was once a Cat Person. I had two. Even when I was single once, I had a cat. When I married the second time, my wife had a cat. This has been my first sustained cat experience since that marriage tanked. I’ve dropped by a house to feed my sister’s or stepmother’s cat, but cats in the house are different. I like it. I like figuring out what a “meow” means. I like it when the kitty jumps on me out of the blue, from out of nowhere.

I’ve had dogs and I’ve had cats. The two creatures are equally unique and wonderful.

And Now, Visitors

22 Friday Jun 2018

Posted by in Cats

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I don’t know if I can get pictures, but RK, my daughter-in-law dropped their cats off, while she and #1 son move to their new house. Their new house is an old house, in the Church Hill neighborhood.

The cats are Izzy, Louis (pronounced Loo Ee) and Bella. Izzy is an old, skinny and deaf male. Louis is a long haired male, Bella is a very shy female. I immediately took a liking to the cats. It’s nice to have them around. They meow a lot, getting used to new surroundings. I can understand why people have a lot of cats. They are great companions.

More later.

Intimacy

18 Monday Jun 2018

Posted by in Love and stuff, Relationships, Sexuality

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I have a hunger for intimacy. I see sex, the carnal act of love-making, genital stimulation, orgasms, as a declaration, an expression of intimacy, the two becoming one.

I won’t comment on what I can’t relate to, specifically same sex attraction. But the hunger for sexual fulfillment unsatisfied is intimacy denied. Without love-making, husbands and wives are merely going through the motions. I must also state that sex without mutually felt desire is also a travesty of love. I had a marriage where the mutuality of desire ended. I had descended into a carnality that even I felt repelled by. And so sexual love died, before the legal marriage ultimately ended. It was a time of regret tinged with horror, as I reflect on it, nearly 24 years after that marriage ended.

So here I exist in a sexless marriage again, longing for union and intimacy, sustained only by a love on another level. It is a love, profound in its depth, yet ultimately unsatisfying. It is a mute marriage, bereft of the cries of pleasure and ecstasy. Taking one’s lover to ecstasy is a great gift of marriage. Hiding our passions is the great betrayal of our lover. We speak of “letting go” when we surrender to orgasm. I doubt that “letting go” is what sustains us. Rather it is the “drawing in”, through all the sweaty passions that nurture us.

Father’s Day

18 Monday Jun 2018

Posted by in Catholic Life, Family

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Today is a big day for me, what with me being a father and all. I’m at the stage of life where no ties, tobacco pipes, fishing lures, golf balls, or single malt Scotch whisky are wanted, needed, or desired. In my earlier post, Cast Iron Pleasures, I extolled the praises of my wife’s gift.

Today was a day of resting. #1 Son is in the final stages of moving to Church Hill, an historic Richmond neighborhood. So a visit would have been a strain. #2 Son wanted to take me to a cool restaurant, Indian Fields Tavern, located in a converted farmhouse on Rte 5, Charles City County. This is the back road to Williamsburg, that bicyclists and motorcyclists use for the excursion. It is a cool place. I was gratified to know that #2 son enjoys this restaurant and this rather quaint road as much as I do.

It is tempting to fill the post with a long digression on the historic significance of #1 son’s new residence and #2 son’s discovery of an area important in both the Colonial era and the American Civil War, but I will save that.

What’s on my mind is how my wife’s job on the late shift at Target (a good place to work, btw) turns my sleep schedule all askew. Today I missed Mass. I just was too tired, even to go to the late afternoon Mass. So I did a bit of contemplation at home.

I had worked out (swimming) five days in a row, so I needed a day’s rest. All in all, this Father’s Day was good.

Cast Iron Pleasure

16 Saturday Jun 2018

Posted by in cooking, Exercise/ Fitness, food

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I received a cast iron pan for Father’s Day from MrsCorC?. Cast. Iron. I took the tags off, got out the lard, worked it into the cooking surface, popped it into the oven at 350° F (177° C) for an hour. It came out seasoned, good to go.

Today I made a frittata. It has been my third preparation of a frittata since I discovered a recipe for this simple, tasty, and well nigh idiot-proof dish. The prior efforts came out well, but the cast iron pan made a marked difference. The ingredients just cooked better.

Tonight, I fried a plantain and made salmon cakes. Everything was sublimely crispy. I am in the trial and error stage of plantain cooking. I think I am supposed to do more with the plantain than peel, slice and fry, but it tastes pretty good this way. The salmon cakes cooked very evenly. This was a solitary pleasures supper. MrsCorC? is not a fish cakes person, viewing them as “low rent”. At $7 a can for red sockeye salmon, I consider them a luxury. She was at work, so my “bachelor” meal encountered no reproach.

This evening meal followed my evening workout. I swam another 2500 meters. The longer swim is already giving a boost to my weight loss efforts. Yes, Fans, I gained back some of the weight I lost. Now it is going away.

Things come and go.

“The thing that has been, it is that which shall be. And that which is done,is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.– Ecclesiastes 1:9.

Sitting Here Resting My Bones

14 Thursday Jun 2018

Posted by in Existential Despair, Urban Brutalism

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It is one of these days where the iconic Otis Redding song Dock Of The Bay comes to mind. I’m feeling at loose ends, wasting time. I am a little tired, hungry, lonely and angry at the perpetual discord in our midst.

Loneliness has been addressed as Mrs CorC? has just returned. Hunger is up for resolution for we are going out to eat. Tired? I need to get up and move! That will come.

Anger? That is my choice. I can’t change the world. I can change my attitude and where I choose to place my focus.

Later This Evening

We went to dinner. I had a simple bowl of penne pasta with marinara sauce. We went home and about thirty minutes later, I went to the Y for my swim.

In between dinner and the Y, I found myself getting disturbed about something, new and improved ID’s which will be mandatory for boarding domestic airline flights. Oh well. Another reason not to fly.

I swam farther today than yesterday by about 450 meters, a total of 2500 meters. Oddly enough, the extra distance made a cold shower very comfortable and refreshing.

Now that I am home, I am watching a scene in South Beach in Miami Beach. The presence of a palm tree is the only exotic aspect of this camera view. Except for the palm trees, this could be anywhere. It reminds me of the street flanking the Inner Harbour in Baltimore, concrete street lights, pedestrians, and cars. Nothing special. Repeat. Nothing Special.

I am going to go out on a limb and say that the uniformity and mundane banality of America belies the hype presented constantly about just how “great” everything is. If you think this is a political rant, it ain’t. There is nothing that distinguishes this stark drudgery as anything more than a slice of Dull.

See what I mean.