So I went to McDonald’s to eat something this evening. I was the only customer in the store The staff is taking orders, fixing the meals, bringing the meal to my table, If you’re going through the drive through, it’s like hands deliver it to you. Chances are those hands are black or brown or maybe, a graying white guy’s.

We live in a world partially inhabited by ghosts, really just the people we would like to forget about.

I don’t know why I’m on this rant. But it seems the walls of separation between us grew almost thicker and wider overnight

What’s happened to this world?

This is that “another day”, about which Miss Scarlett famously offered comment. I am sitting on the porch, with the hole in the deck that the property management firm is supposed to repair. . The short term solution involves lime green duct tape to warn the unwary of the hole.

Looking around my demiparadise, I see another PRIDE flag, festooning another porch. This offers an opportunity to wonder about this neighbour.Of course, it’s none of my business. And she’s a real nice person. I just didn’t know this about her til the other day.

The crows are noisy this morning. The smaller birds, with prettier songs are expressing themselves also.

I actually talked to my wife about my emotional and sexual needs! It wasn’t that hard . I just said it. As you can see, I’m still alive. So there’s hope.

Coffee is inside.

Much has happened since I last posted: death, family rancor, some grief.

My stepmother died.She lived 13 years as my Dad’s widow, in the house we inherited from Dad. Now it is time to clean out stuff we did not remove after Mom died.

Yes. There is still plenty of stuff , an antique pin ball machine in need of restoration, a universal weight machine my Dad used, tools, lawn mowers, televisions, books, Marine Corps memorabilia. The house will be cleaned out, cleaned up, and sold.

My sister has decided she is the greatest real estate genius since Donald You-know-who. And will share her vast market knowledge with my brother and me. This is a free market system and the market will decide what the house is worth.

She has also decided to dump all her suspicions and dislikes about my stepmother’s adult children on us.

My goal is to take my share of the house’s sales proceeds, save it and move to Switzerland, before the USA blows up in a zillion pieces. Ever the optimist, I am. I might have to settle for a double wide somewhere in Wyoming.

Families find that crises are great opportunities for bickering among themselves..

Meanwhile the emotional and intimate wasteland that is my marriage flounders on.

I’m tired. So tired.

If Hitler were around today, he would need to have a sign language interpreter for his speeches at the massive rallies.

And the perfect addition for total relaxation at the Berghof would be a hot tub. Der Führer and Eva Braun could chill in the hot tub with Josef and Magda Goebbels

At 0330 I awoke, hoping it was later than 3:30. I went to bed at 1230 , hoping I would sleep normal hours like Mr Average American.

So I lay in my bed, the old bed I had when I was a junior in high school. It has no sheets, just a mattress pad.

I’m trying to figure out feminine beauty and sexual attraction and love. All three, in and of themselves, are major undertakings to write about.

We’ve been overwhelmed by this since David saw Bathsheba in her bath.

These musings are a product of my loneliness. My heart had been closed too long.

I don’t know how to end this. I need sleep.

Signing off

Do people still play bridge?

Are there still bridge columns in the newspapers nobody reads anymore?

I need to know.

Here I am, on the 80th D-Day anniversary, wide awake, reading, while watching YouTube. I start The Longest Day but I’ve seen it so many times (Spoiler Alert: The Allies prevail and win the war), that it doesn’t capture my attention.

I have a catalog of interests on my cerebral shuffle. I switch to a new theme, resigning myself to a sleepless night. I choose The Gay Divorcee, Fred and Ginger, and a giant helping of delight. I’ll see if I can turn my nostalgia to Hollywood, some great songs and even greater dance numbers.

There’s no reason to dwell on the Twentieth Century’s nightmare, especially when Astaire is a few clicks away.

Tonight’s takeaway: Men should wear hats again.

I’m finding lesbian romance fiction holds my attention, especially the girl meets girl and reluctantly fall in love stories.

(Back to the movie. Ginger Rogers is gorgeous, forever gorgeous).

There is another Pride flag waving in our neighbourhood . I’m not surprised, except for the surprise in not being surprised.

Now that I’m older and know more about moviemaking, I can see that Fred and Ginger really aren’t in England. Fred courting Ginger is pure magic.

Last night, I had big plans around getting up early and going to the Y and structuring my day like a proper petit bourgeoise. It didn’t work out. I suppose I should break up with my long term lover, coffee. I remember when my Grandfather Pop gave me a spoonful, with cream, at the dinner table in Highland Springs. Hooked like a blue marlin on Hemingway’s fishing rod.

Anyway I’m squeezing every milligram of magic out of the caffeine. I’m kinda sorta getting tired.

Bedtime. I retire with a new respect for the acting.skills of Edward Everett Horton

Here, at the end of May, the sun has almost risen, climbed above the horizon , beginning a seasonal tease of long days, short nights, warmth creeping to heat, as we receive the gift of sweat.. People show their skin and more Tits and ass, packages. And for the truly prurient, bellies.

Bellies, the glorious testimonial to baklava and beer. Sometimes,for women, babies grow in those bellies, in útero ,to be more precise. Promises, curses, dreams.

Cycles. That is what the universe shares. Dramatically at Stonehenge or Bethlehem. Always more than a day. Offering light for concupiscence, Darkness for the same.

The really clever people have made their own suns, small enough for rockets to carry. Although useless for growing grain or trees or fruit, these microsuns receive their ill deserved attention.

We make a different sacrifice to these lesser gods, happiness,.

I can keep quiet no longer. There should federal laws against interleague play, the designated hitter and the pitch clock.

Furthermore chewing tobacco should be Mandatory.

Ok. That’s enough rant.