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Dispatches From Dystopia

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Dispatches From Dystopia

Tag Archives: trains

Letting Them Roll

10 Friday Jul 2020

Posted by David in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

#cricket, food, Sex, trains

The thoughts in head are many, and each thought I like to think is a cluster of neurons, sparking like steel on flint.

Trains. I am watching Ashland, then Fort Madison, then Ashland, then La Plata, only because I can. A train, #90, will pass through Ashland, two hours late. Then I will watch #03 The Southwest Chief, bound for Los Angeles, cross the Mississippi and pass along the River at Ft Madison, a remarkable site. I will watch the night life in Ashland then flip to La Plata, for the last look at #3.

Dinner was Stouffer’s Mac & Cheese, a tuna sandwich and some store-bought banana pudding. That was for J.

I have the usual aches and pains I always seem to have.  I have laundry dried, ready to sort and fold.

Summer in Virginia is one 90° F (32°C) day after another. I know. Those of you in India or Australia (6 months from now) must find my complaint amusing. 

I’m glad to see live cricket back, even in an empty stadium. The England vs West Indies Test is interesting. I think the Westies came to play. And Stokes can’t win it by himself for England.

Sexual thoughts are always floating in and out of my head. I could interrupt this rather juvenile game of trainspotting, go upstairs, hang out with my wife and seek to pull her knickers down. She would appreciate the attention even if my hands stay away from her waistband.

Later.

Saturday 18 January. Observations.

18 Saturday Jan 2020

Posted by David in Uncategorized

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Tags

#Trash, trains

One of my AA buddies has a sobriety anniversary of 18 January. So today sticks out in my mind because I think of G*?!#*. He became an all around good guy when he got sober. A lot of us do.

I just watched two freight trains pass each other coming from opposite directions through Ashland. Both were pulling large green rectangular prismatic containers. We railfans know that the Southbound containers are filled with the household refuse (aka “trash”) of the Metro DC area. The Northbound ones are empty, headed back for more. There is a fancy mega landfill in Charles City County, between Richmond and Williamsburg.

This is what Modern Times is all about, filling the dumps. Sorry, if you think there are nobler aspirations, higher purposes, more beautiful engineering triumphs. These trash trains are the apex of consumer culture. They’re taking our lowly garbage off to a decent burial. If not decent, at least sanitary. Trash, like death, is an equalizer. As consumers, our role is to consume. Pelosi, Trump, Sanders, McConnell all did their parts to keep those big green boxes filled and rolling.

I could give a discourse on landfills. I won’t. Suffice it to say the trash trains won’t stop soon. In the Twelfth Century, peasants and nobles, monks and merchants, all converged around a common goal in the French town of Chartres. They built a magnificent cathedral, reflecting the human desire for restoration of relationship with God.

Today we all do our part to keep the green tubs filled.

An Old Post Yet To Be Published

04 Sunday May 2014

Posted by David in Amtrak, Sexuality

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Tags

food, swimming, train spotting, trains

I wrote this a long while back, in May 2014.  We had yet to sell my Aunt’s house.  I thought I would post it as it is.  I remember the day quite well. The tentative title was Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!  This was before my shoulder and back surgeries.  I was  still working.

It is Sunday. I am sitting in my late aunt’s house, now vacant, enjoying my coffee and taking time to write, enjoying the few noises I do hear. The birds sing, the insects hum, and, in the distance, a freight train moves down the main North/South line.  It is a freight because I can hear the wheels grinding on the steel rails for a long time and the air horn sounding.  When I leave the house I stop at a grade crossing to watch a Northbound Amtrak train, with nine cars, plus a locomotive.

Later I go swimming. First I weigh in and decide 204.2 lbs isn’t bad for  5ft 11in. It is down from 208 lbs a month earlier.   I do a long 1650 meter swim.  It  takes 38 min 50 sec. Not bad, I ratonalize, for a 63 year old.  I feel the stretch of my back muscles, but the stiffness in my legs restricts the efficiency of my kick.   The cool water feels great to my body.   It is an exquisitely sensual feeling, to experience my body awaken.  Later, at lunch, I remark to my wife that the endorphin rush is kicking in, a great high.

I wrote a lot more semi-philosophical gibberish about, appetites, and craving  food, alcohol and sex.  I frequently eat to change the way I feel. “That donut or (———-) (name your food of choice) will sure make me feel better or quiet the churning in my gut”.  Food worked before booze for me in changing how I felt.  And worked again after I quit drinking.  Sex was the Big Mystery, the Big Kahuna of Excitement and Mood Alteration.  I loved it.  Still do.  Being naked with a woman, coming together in a sweaty pile, making noises, and feeling that my partner (wife) and I have uncovered the secret to Oneness with The Cosmos.  (How’s that for gibberish?)

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