Tuesday, December 17, 2024

December 17, 2024

Hi, Pat. I'm sitting here in north Texas reading Christmas cards, working on my blog, and watching / listening to Dana Del Rey videos on YouTube in the background. 

It's a Yorkshire evening outside: pitch black, light rain, a bit of wind. It reminds me of our brisk midnight walks along the River Nidd twenty-two years ago (?).

****************************
Reminiscing 

On my public, main blog, I just wrote the following; it's in draft. It won't be posted for several days.

Although it was the "original" that haunted me for years, I would rather listen to Lana Del Rey's cover.

I had probably just experienced the most intense three months of my life up to that point in my life, and even at age 73, that summer may still be the most intense, most complicated three months of my life. I was on my way home, late August, via West Virginia, late summer, 1971. John Denver's Take Me Home Country Roads was the hit song that summer, released in the spring of 1971. I was torn between staying on the east coast and returning home to the Dakotas. I really had no choice, but it was incredibly difficult. To this day, I wonder how it would have been had I taken the other fork in that road.

Link here.


I graduated from high school, like you did, in the spring of 1969.

I attended Augustana College, Sioux Falls, SD, 1969 - 1973, before going on to medical school, University of Southern California, Los Angeles, starting in the fall of 1973.

The most intense three months of my life I refer to above were the three months I spent selling dictionaries door-to-door in New Jersey. It was a most intense summer -- had it been just selling dictionaries it would have been "enough." 

But it was also the summer I met the first love of my life, though she did not know it, and we saw each other in passing maybe a total of 90 minutes that entire summer. 

It was the most difficult thing I ever experienced leaving New Jersey: she did not know how much I had been smitten, and I did not even say good-bye when I departed. For two years, I thought of no woman other than she. 

Two years later I traveled along to Europe, hitchhiking from North Dakota to NYC, to catch Icelandic Air, to Luxembourg. It was a trip I had to take, to see Europe on my own, on "$4 a day." But deep, deep down, I took the trip  with the hope that I would see Linda again when I got to the New York City area.

I did and we reconnected. For the next two years -- maybe eighteen months -- we had the most intense, geographically-separated relationship possible. 

We separated for good after eighteen months -- she was graduating from medical school and headed to an internship. I was starting my clinical years and she decided it was time to "take a break." She said it was temporary; I saw it as permanent.

I often wonder how it would have turned out had I taken another fork in that road.

The same I often wonder about you and me.

Circumstances are such that it was for the best. No regrets. But I think about you often. In fact, not a day goes by that I'm not thinking of you.

Wednesday, December 4, 2024

A Yorkshire Evening -- December 4, 2024

 I went for a short walk this evening, north Texas, the DFW area. 

The evening was just like a Yorkshire evening when we went on those long walks along the River Nidd into Pateley Bridge and then across the bridge to the other side of the river. No rain, but misting. No wind, quiet. As dark as it could possibly be. Cool but not cold. Exactly like the Yorkshire I remember. Only one "thing" missing. You.

I miss you so badly.

Pateley Bridge. Wiki.

Friday, September 20, 2024

An Essay That Takes Me Back To Pateley Bridge -- September 20, 2024

Friday nights I save for "top stories," but that's such drudgery.

I think this must be the most relaxed, happy, calm I've been in a long time, perhaps in my life, save for those evenings in Yorkshire, England, in the early 2000s. 

The past two weeks .... everything, everywhere happening all at once .... with regard to family, blogging, physical pain (I think the worst I've ever experienced), but no emotional pain (thank goodness), needing to be in three places at one time ...

But now, all of a sudden two hours, maybe three hours of early evening perfectness. Is that even a word?

So, what does one do when in such a state? Start with the best.

I opened the current issue of The Atlantic. This issue is all about Trump. We'll come back to that later. 

But there are a couple of exceptions. One of the exceptions: a five-pay essay on Leonard Cohen, or more accurately, an essay on a new biography of Leonard Cohen being released this month, September, 2024. The 500-page book: Christophe Lebold's: The Man Who Saw the Angels Fall.

I read excerpts of the book at Amazon; the first song mentioned: "I Can't Forget" from I'm Your Man (1988). 

I'm surrounded by magazines and books that I've started but only (just started). I can pick up any one of those magazines and/or books and find the spot where I left off and begin reading again. The three books I'm most actively engaged with right now: The Plausible Man; Horse; and, Geniuses At War.

Thursday, July 18, 2024

Wow, I Wish I Could Watch "Twisters" With Pat This Weekend -- July 18, 2024

Some nights, it seems, I miss Pat more and more as each week goes by.