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Slow catastrophe

Slow catastrophe

I’ve been playing with a thought experiment.  I don’t think it’s very original, but I think it’s an interesting exercise so I’m going to share it with you and ask for your input.  This is an outgrowth of a Global Warming conversation I had the other day with my book club.  (Yes, I live in the country and am [semi-]retired.  We do that sort of thing.) Most of the table accepted the science and was in agreement...

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I used to play guitar

I used to play guitar

Year before last I took a guitar course. It was an “advanced” course but that only meant I was in the part of the class that knew at least a little about the guitar. The alternative would have been “beginners” guitar which wouldn’t do since I’d been playing guitar for over 40 years. The idea had been that by taking a course I could re-enthuse myself, bring the guitar back into focus in my life and start...

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The purpose of life

The purpose of life

The purpose of life.  At least the purpose of my life. What can it possibly be? What can it possibly mean? Now there’s a topic worth a paragraph or two. On Wednesday evening my men’s group is going to discuss “purpose”.  So I’ve been thinking about it a bit, but only a bit because it’s not a topic that particularly intrigues me.  I can see its attraction, but I’m personally not attracted to it....

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You should blog about it

You should blog about it

What’s important now is to write about something other than the fact that I can’t think of anything to write about. Somehow I need to avoid mentioning that I haven’t written a post in over three weeks. Under no circumstances should I discuss why I haven’t written, how I’m struggling even at this moment to come up with anything to say, or make any sort of excuse. And above all I mustn’t promise to start...

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On looking respectable. Sometimes it’s useful.

On looking respectable.  Sometimes it’s useful.

  February 1973. I was 24 years old.   The hairdo requires a little explanation.  I was on my way from the USA to South America when I got the passport.  It’s the oldest passport of mine that I can find, and the only one where the passport photo was a disguise.   I was planning to travel from California via Mexico to Guatemala and on to Columbia.  A couple of posts ago I wrote about Silvia, Columbia – this was the start of...

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Have you met my good friend Maria? 1948 – 2008.

Have you met my good friend Maria? 1948 – 2008.

Her name is Maria.  Just Maria.  I must have known her surname at one point because we travelled together in Europe. She would have needed a passport and that would have included her surname. We started travelling in 1970, forty-two years ago. I’d met her in an acting class at the University of California at Berkeley.  I thought she looked pretty hot, but I was shy and didn’t talk to her.  She later told me that she’d...

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Silvia, Columbia ,1972, getting over it. (And a bit about magic mushrooms)

Silvia, Columbia ,1972, getting over it.  (And a bit about magic mushrooms)

I’m going to have to see if my old passport still exists deep in some storage space. That’s probably the only way I’d be able to work out exactly when I was in Silvia, Columbia.  I would have been about 23 years old. Oddly enough, it was when I got over it about my parents.  It seems to me that most of us have a period starting in our teens when it’s all our parents fault.  It’s never clear what is meant by...

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