At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Thursday, September 12, 2013


I haven't cooked rice at home for over three years. Oh sure, I do still eat rice -- a meal just isn't satisfying without it -- but rice prepared at home is associated with family life. Noise and conversation.
Or at the very least, two people involved.
A connection, a couple.

There is no couple. Hasn't been since summer 2010.

Why bother cooking rice for one?

There is nothing less appetizing than rice eaten alone. Nowadays I dine out a lot. At restaurants and chachanteng, the hubbub of others is all around me, and I can discretely observe people interacting.
Truth be told, the presence of strangers can be reassuring.
Yes, rice. But a lot more than just rice.

Men of my age do not get a second chance. No matter how sprightly and full of piss and vinegar we still are. Although apparently we are much sought after on cruise ships, where elderly ladies thirty or more years older avidly wish to dance, and will forgive us our lack of athletic grace.

It's our considerable piss and vinegar.

I do not intend to take a cruise. In fact, knowing what I now know, I shall avoid ports and ships entirely. They are incredibly dangerous places! Ninety percent of all the accidents that can happen to mature pipe-smokers occur on or within mere yards of commodious maritime accommodation!

And besides, smoking is nowadays frowned upon when near people who speak English. They tend to scream a bit, and otherwise loose their cool. Which is very irritating.
Silly buggers.

Hence my frequenting eateries and coffeeshops in Chinatown. There, at least, no one yells rude comments at the wandering pipe-smoker, and sometimes little children stare in fascination. When they grow up, they too will take up such a cool habit. It looks so utterly adventuresome, and classy.
Smart kids.

Something over rice, a cup of milk-tea, and people.
Followed by a pipe, and a solitary walk.
Then over Nob Hill in the fog.

I doubt it can get any better than that.

Piss and vinegar.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.

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