[Abu Dhabi’s Zayed International Airport on 7/22/20] Reduced to self-publishing, I’m also my own critic and, soon enough, one of my last readers. The most exclusive of clubs, we’ll all fit on the same couch or camp bed. From 1999 to 2004, I lived primarily in Vietnam and
When I was young, taking a scheduled airline flight was always novel and exciting, and with none of the security theater we have today. Now it has become at best a chore and at worst personally humiliating.
Then I had the privilege of learning how to fly in my 40s. I still feel it is the most exhilarating feeling of freedom I have ever experienced. And whenever you get up close and personal with the weather, as you sometimes do in instrument flight, you can really sense the power of Mother Nature like nowhere else, knowing it can flick you off like a fly if you push the envelope just a little too far.
Some of us are pretty earthbound in these last days. Airplanes are/were passing phenomena in so many ways. Pretty soon though, the circus is leaving town for good. We can then all settle in to our parched geoengineered earth and our diet of chemicals, since there won't be any more actual food available. It was all pretty interesting while it lasted, but all good or bad things, I suppose, must eventually end. The wonderful vignettes, Linh, are a good drug for the dying, more wholesome I think than the shreds of food that we have been able to preserve.
my only fave airport was in LA and was a crappy legally mandated undeveloped grassy suburban experience I used to visit/haunt for its fast food expertise and culinary excellence, but then I'm from Norn Ireland, drawn to the shaggy down at heel & limited diet. Besides the true LAX was a terrifying experience...I still deam about it, and I got to it via Montreal...too repeatedly for enjoyment
You are reduced to self-publishing, Mr. Dinh because, generally, people don't want to hear the truth. Tell them fairy tales and nonsense. Keep them diverted from reality and amused. That's where the money is.
Have you tried South End Press in Boston? I don't even know if they are still viable but they used to publish some smart, anti-establishment authors.
Being too smart and too insightful will get you nowhere. It is trite to say but "bread and circuses" is where it's at.
For the last two years, very likely a by product of pot, birds have become a bit of an obsession.
Seeing a bird at dawn with white stripes on it's wings sent me to the silicon Oracle to learn about the common Nighthawk. Last week, it was the White Breasted Nuthatch. I was attacked by Red Wing Blackbirds several times last spring and consider it an honor, their call is one of my favorites.
I simply pay more attention to birds than I used to. The Grackles are back below the kitchen window where I'll toss seeds and nuts, so much better than tv.
The physical sensation of flight is something that I've been pondering for awhile. I know that it's juvenile and imbecilic, but if I could just fly, fly, fly!
Watching a flock of birds in a field last year, I remember telling Mike, another co worker with a few loose screws, "I dig birds, but they piss me off. They can fly and I can't." I'll have to settle for voyeurism, but one can still dream.
..and soon to be my last reader. I remembered this line last night. My mind would not shut off. Bits and pieces of someone else's words were going on, but mostly it was my own stuff. Most of the time, while laying still and waiting for sleep to overtake me, my mind will recall my day. And soon enough, without any notice, I'm asleep. But not last night. It was just on and on, over and over, my own stuff. I need to remember to skip that late coffee. One reading should be enough, maybe two. But on and on egad.
When I was young, taking a scheduled airline flight was always novel and exciting, and with none of the security theater we have today. Now it has become at best a chore and at worst personally humiliating.
Then I had the privilege of learning how to fly in my 40s. I still feel it is the most exhilarating feeling of freedom I have ever experienced. And whenever you get up close and personal with the weather, as you sometimes do in instrument flight, you can really sense the power of Mother Nature like nowhere else, knowing it can flick you off like a fly if you push the envelope just a little too far.
Some of us are pretty earthbound in these last days. Airplanes are/were passing phenomena in so many ways. Pretty soon though, the circus is leaving town for good. We can then all settle in to our parched geoengineered earth and our diet of chemicals, since there won't be any more actual food available. It was all pretty interesting while it lasted, but all good or bad things, I suppose, must eventually end. The wonderful vignettes, Linh, are a good drug for the dying, more wholesome I think than the shreds of food that we have been able to preserve.
I wonder if I will ever feel safe again on an airplane, what with all of the pilot heart attacks and strokes!
my only fave airport was in LA and was a crappy legally mandated undeveloped grassy suburban experience I used to visit/haunt for its fast food expertise and culinary excellence, but then I'm from Norn Ireland, drawn to the shaggy down at heel & limited diet. Besides the true LAX was a terrifying experience...I still deam about it, and I got to it via Montreal...too repeatedly for enjoyment
You are reduced to self-publishing, Mr. Dinh because, generally, people don't want to hear the truth. Tell them fairy tales and nonsense. Keep them diverted from reality and amused. That's where the money is.
Have you tried South End Press in Boston? I don't even know if they are still viable but they used to publish some smart, anti-establishment authors.
Being too smart and too insightful will get you nowhere. It is trite to say but "bread and circuses" is where it's at.
For the last two years, very likely a by product of pot, birds have become a bit of an obsession.
Seeing a bird at dawn with white stripes on it's wings sent me to the silicon Oracle to learn about the common Nighthawk. Last week, it was the White Breasted Nuthatch. I was attacked by Red Wing Blackbirds several times last spring and consider it an honor, their call is one of my favorites.
I simply pay more attention to birds than I used to. The Grackles are back below the kitchen window where I'll toss seeds and nuts, so much better than tv.
The physical sensation of flight is something that I've been pondering for awhile. I know that it's juvenile and imbecilic, but if I could just fly, fly, fly!
Watching a flock of birds in a field last year, I remember telling Mike, another co worker with a few loose screws, "I dig birds, but they piss me off. They can fly and I can't." I'll have to settle for voyeurism, but one can still dream.
..and soon to be my last reader. I remembered this line last night. My mind would not shut off. Bits and pieces of someone else's words were going on, but mostly it was my own stuff. Most of the time, while laying still and waiting for sleep to overtake me, my mind will recall my day. And soon enough, without any notice, I'm asleep. But not last night. It was just on and on, over and over, my own stuff. I need to remember to skip that late coffee. One reading should be enough, maybe two. But on and on egad.