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I may have blogged about this 5 years ago, at my first college reunion (our 30th), but I suppose it bears repeating: I feel very nostalgic, of course, but I also have the distinct feeling that I wasted my time at Columbia. I have no evidence for this other than my dismal (though passing) academic record and my remembrance of many classes cut or just ignored. The people who have been speaking with us today are all very insistent that the core curriculum is the jewel of Columbia and something that really brings out the best in students. I remember it as a very dreary set of assigned books that I should have read anyway. I have especially dismal memories of Kant. Still have the book at home, of course.
Nostalgia is not a bad thing, of course. Remembrances of things past, tinged with pride, happiness, as well as sadness and regret, inform the rest of our lives and make us even more human than we would be otherwise. Apes, as far as I know, do not become nostalgic (although one never really knows).
Two nights ago we had our first event: a cocktail party at a Barnard 1974 classmate’s digs in the 80’s off Fifth Avenue. Of course, my classmate Richard was there. He is Italian with an afro, and my main memory of him during our time at Columbia was of him taking swimming class with me, not wearing a swimsuit, and having an enormous uncut dick. I do not mention this in polite (or even impolite) company today, but it will always remain in my memory so I record it here (under a Friends-only filter in case he takes a look at my blog). Richard is very outspoken, somewhat salival in speaking, and likes me, thus he sits near me at every event we attend together. Oh well, such is my fate.
I ended up sitting with a cardiologist who is a Barnard grad, and we talked about health for quite a while. Another cardiologist came by to put in her tuppence, and a nephrologist was also holding forth. I do wish I hadn’t gotten into the middle of that. Off home to bed.
On Friday was the tours and Caf
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Last week I flew from Boston to Washington DC. I hadn’t been in DC for more than 20 years, so it was a real treat. I stayed with our former flatmate Brett, who is a superb chef and the kind of person you just like, automatically. He lives on M Street NW, and when I landed at Dulles I had no idea how far away everything is there. We had to take a strange bus to another building, then walk for miles (it seemed) to get luggage. I found Super Shuttle, boarded that, and then sat back for a 3/4 hour drive into DC proper. I was flabbergasted. I understand that the Metro will be extended out there in the middle future. It will be much easier to get into the city when it is.
Brett is, as you would expect, the superb host and we chatted and ate most of the time he was there. He had to duck out for a food gig in New York over a long weekend but otherwise we enjoy each other’s company and have much to talk about.On Thursday night we had dinner at a lovely Mexican restaurant across from the Verizon Center.
During the week I had a lovely visit to the National Portrait Gallery with
I nearly forgot! When I was checking in for the flight, the clerk told me that my suitcase was 5 lbs. overweight, so I shifted some stuff into my carryon. When I got to Washington, I discovered that my camera’s LCD screen was cracked. I presume that pressure from stuffing that material into my carryon is what did it. It took me a few days to find the Best Buy, but I bought a new camera, 12.5 megapixels, and it seems to work well. I hate airlines.
On Saturday I spent the day in Virginia with
Sunday I did laundry, then met my friend Randy, who owns Integrity Lightspeed, an email list for LBGT Anglicans and their friends, for lunch at a Thai restaurant at Dupont Circle–I thought it was called “Thaifoon” but can’t find a clear URL for it, so maybe not. Green chicken curry (natch) was very good, as was the conversation with Randy, whom I haven”t seen for many years. Lovely to see him again and hang out in the park watching the world go by.
That evening I had dinner with Brett’s and my friend Bev at the Sofitel hotel at McPherson Square, near the White House. The dinner and conversation were superb, and Bev being the head pastry chef there knew everything on the menu. The waiter was hot, too.
Monday I took a ride on the Red Line to its end in Maryland and back. Somewhat scenic. Then Brett returned from his (very successful) New York gig, and we had dinner at a Belgian brasserie close to downtown. Then I had to pack for travel on Tuesday.
A very sad goodbye to Brett, then a taxi to Union Station. I took the 1 pm Acela Express first class to New York. It was a lovely trip–the food (beef tenderloin) was excellent, much better than anything I’ve ever gotten on a plane. Taxi up to East Harlem where
Today I discovered that my left big toenail has separated from the bed yet again and a bit of fluid and blood squirted from underneath when I wiggled it. I cleaned it out with alcohol and put a plaster on it while I debated what to do. In walking to the subway I discovered that there is a foot doctor around the corner. I will call them tomorrow morning and perhaps get seen. I don’t think it’s infected. I bought some gauze, Bactine, and adhesive tape this afternoon and have disinfected and taped it up. I will keep tabs on it. However, I will need to go to the foot clinic at Kings next week and demand that they refer me urgently for orthopedic shoes, as they have promised three times. I need to protect my feet when I travel, as that seems to be the situation where things happen to my feet.
I went down to South Ferry to see the new subway station there. It was quite interesting how they have shoehorned it into the small spaces available down there. Now there is no reason to sit in the first 5 cars when going down there. I got a sandwich and Diet Coke for lunch and ate it in Battery Park.
Then I decided to get to 14th Street to buy an additional bag to travel back to London next week, and then get to 1st Avenue to take the bus up to 106th Street. So I got on the W train. Who should then walk into the same car and sit down but Nick Dowen, my good friend from Integrity/New York who lives on Staten Island! Such coincidences happen in New York! We will probably have lunch next Tuesday before I go.
This evening I went to dinner on 118th and First at Patsy’s Restaurant. Had 1/2 a pizza and a Caesar salad with my friend The Rev’d John Halborg, who lived on the floor below me in the Bronx and is now a retired New York priest. We discussed sad events such as the death of a good friend and laughed over memories of days past.
Tomorrow the reunion begins with a cocktail party in the evening. I hope that my foot cooperates.
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I have continuous wifi again!!! I will blog some more tomorrow about my week in DC, but suffice it to say that I have arrived in NYC courtesy of Acela Express, first-class. Thanks to
If anyone in NYC wants to have lunch or dinner this week or early next week, respond to this post and we’ll see what we can do.
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I realise I’ve been a bit remiss lately in blogging. It’s been a bit hectic. I waved goodby to HWMBO on Monday, and he has arrived back in the UK safely. My meds and absentee ballot are winging their way to Washington DC, as I soon will be.
Again, Washingtonians, get in touch. I have a US mobile phone number now: 1-617-480-8409 and I will be keeping it on for your calls. I will be around this evening in Washington but probably too pooped from the travelling to do much. I am staying on M Street NW with our former flatmate Brett.
I am hoping to see
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I shall be arriving in Washington DC on Wednesday. I’m staying a week. Thus, those who wish to can email me at chris at christianphansen dot com or comment in this journal, and we can get an evening together to meet, greet, and eat somewhere in Washington. I have not been there in more than 20 years so I expect it’s changed quite a lot. I won’t be able to wander through the Capitol building unescorted this time, unlike last time. I gather the Metro is quite a bit more extensive so I’ll be interested in doing that.
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I neglected to mention that we spent Wednesday afternoon with
Friday I met my friend Zeke from the sheplist. Lovely guy—we had a walk up to the old part of town where we had lunch at The Muffin Shop: HWMBO’s favourite shop for lobster rolls. Well, when we were almost finished with our meals HWMBO showed up and joined us for a lobster roll and conversation. There is also a picture from today which I will post anon, anon being right now:
That evening my brother and sister took us to the Outback for our now traditional steak meal. I had a prime rib which was absolutely perfect—in contradistinction to the one I had on Thursday. Back home to bed.
Yesterday was shopping day. We got some stuff for my brother’s computer, some stuff for us (clothes, peanut butter, things like that), and enjoyed ourselves. Steak tips for dinner, barbecued on the grill outside. My brother shared a rack of lamb with a friend, Wendy. It was his first taste of lamb, and he thinks he’d like it when not heavily spiced up. Last night/this morning there were several rather loud thunderclaps that served to keep me awake longer than I should have been.
Today’s scheduled events are lunch with Dawn Bucket, the local columnist for the Marblehead Reporter. Why “Dawn Bucket”, you ask? In Marblehead up until the 19th century, the sewers were open channels along the road (as was true in England up until Bazalgette and the Victorian sewers). When one arose, the contents of the chamber pot needed disposal. Thus, the homeowner would open a window and yell “Whip!” to attract the attention of passers-by, who would take cover/move rapidly away and then yell “Down Bucket!”, at which point the contents of the chamber pot would be tossed from the window into the sewer. The challenge/response “Whip!/Down Bucket!” became a Marblehead catchphrase, and thus the Pyramids.
After lunch, we’ll be off to Best Buy to pick up one more item for the computer, and then our farewell dinner for HWMBO, who returns to London tomorrow afternoon. I am here until Wednesday, when I fly to Washington DC.
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We went into Boston yesterday to meet
Then we had two choices. We could get a bus back to Marblehead, or we could eat and then get a bus back to Marbkehead. We wanted to do the bus, but none came at the scheduled time. So, we thought we’d missed one. We went to the Boston Beer Works. First problem: HWMBO (who is 43) did not bring any identification, and they carded him for beer. He ordered root beer, and I ordered a pale ale. Well, the beer was vile. Any Brit would have thought it tasted worse than pee.
HWMBO ordered shrimp, and I ordered prime rib from their “Brit” menu. It was the “Prince” size. We waited so long that I caught a passing waitress and asked for a basket of chips and salsa. She said “I’m not your waitress, but I think I know who is.” I could only mutter “You all look alike.” The chips arrived just after our dinners did, so I sent them back.
The shrimp were tasteless (according to HWMBO), and the “prime rib, medium” was grey and dry. Dry prime rib??? Whoda thunk it? There were gobs of fat on the periphery, of course, none of which I ate (but all of which I paid for). The fries were passable.
We made a mistake with restaurants. But, we still had lots of time to get to the bus. We waited. No bus. Another hour. No bus, no word as to when one would come. Finally a T inspector came and said there had been an incident. A bus would finally arrive. The lady with the wheelchair was relieved as her battery was about to go dead. We got home at 11:45 pm. Whew!
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I am in Marblehead. What a saga this has been.
Monday evening I took the Heathrow Express to Terminal 5. My first time flying out of that terminal. First thing to say: it is huge. It is unimaginably huge. The Universe is a micron compared to that terminal…oops! Wrong comparison.
I got there and dropped my bags. Had a Welsh agent. I said, jokingly, “You’re not from around here.” and he replied. “Yes, Italy. I badly needed a laugh.
Security is interesting. The trays aren’t handled manually: they circulate in the machine. They appear under your place at the chute, you take them out, put your stuff in them, and they disappear at the end of the chute on the other side after (I hope) you’ve removed your stuff.
There was the usual selection of duty-free bumpf, Harrod’s fleece…er…food halls, and toney food joints. Had an iced latt
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I have talked to the travel agency this morning, and for minimal money my trip is back on! I am getting on the same flight tonight that I would have taken on Saturday, arriving in Boston at around 10 pm Monday night. So the rest of the trip will be unchanged from the former plans I had.
My itinerary is thus:
| Where I’ll be | Dates |
| Marblehead, Mass: | 18-27 May |
| Washington DC: | 27 May-2 June |
| New York, NY: | 2 June-10 June |
| London, England: | 10 June |
I am immensely grateful for all the good wishes that everyone has sent my way. I’m certain that they have helped enormously. I packed last night (in anticipation of a successful conclusion this morning) so now only have to toss a few last things into the bags and I’ll be ready. I have checked in and printed my boarding pass, so the only thing left is to get to Heathrow.
I would love to see all my Live Journal friends in Boston, New York, and Washington when I’m there.
Please reply to this posting and I’ll see it in Marblehead and get to you. I shall make all replies screened, so if you can give me some contact details it would help.
See you!
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To my non-Singaporean friends: sometimes Singapore is called “that lil’ red dot on the map” as it’s so small in comparison to most countries. My friend Roy Tan had an idea last year to hold a lesbian and gay rally in the only place in Singapore where demonstrations are allowed: Hong Lim Park. Over the past months the idea morphed into gathering people together in Hong Lim while wearing pink or carrying pink parasols or paper hats. They would gather together in a circle and form the Pink Dot. This happened yesterday, and here is the video of the event. Please watch it.
To my Singaporean friends: I’m immensely proud of you. The flavour of the day reminded me of my first few Pride parades in New York City in the mid-1980’s, where civil rights for lesbian, gay, and trans folk were few and far between. See how far we’ve come since then! I wish I could have been there.
If you do it again next year, and non-Singaporeans can participate, I’ll try to visit. Until then, keep on plugging: this was just the first step on a long road toward the freedom to love.
…and I’ve lost 8 kilograms (around 17-1/2 lbs) since I was last weighed at the hospital 9 days ago.
The Autonomic Neuropathy Diet–lose 8 kg in a week (but don’t stray too far from the toilet).
I would have made a terrible advertising copywriter.
…because this morning I am feeling OK. I will call the travel agent on Monday and see if there is any part of the trip I can salvage.
If not, I will book a quickie to Marblehead in June for later on.
I got the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in a week last night.
Life really is unfair. Had this happened yesterday I would have been waking up in Marblehead today.
..and many happy returns of the day.
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I read the Marblehead Reporter each week online. One of the highlights is Dawn Bucket’s column “Up For Air”. It’s too long to explain why “Dawn Bucket” is a good Marblehead nickname, so we’ll gloss over that.
A few weeks ago Dawn mentioned that she was looking for a bumper sticker to put on the cars of egregious cellphone yappers-while-driving. I emailed her and suggested something. Well, I won the prize for the week. Now if I were only on the way to Marblehead to collect. I don’t get namechecked there often, but my brother’s been namechecked in the Reporter several times. We’re not quite even.
After hoping that the codeine prescribed yesterday by my GP would stop the symptoms of autonomic neuropathy, I was bitterly disappointed this morning to (1) still have the one problem, and (2) add to it projectile vomiting from the other end. I am really weak at the moment (although as of this writing all the symptoms seem to have abated, of course!) so I’ve cancelled my trips to Marblehead, DC, and New York, including my 35th college reunion. Yes, I know I could probably buy a cheap ticket to New York but, really, my heart’s not in it now. I saw HWMBO off this afternoon as he is going to Marblehead to see an old friend of his from Singapore who has travelled from San Francisco to Boston to see him. He is probably getting on the plane right about now.
I feel very lonely without him.
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King Ozymandias of Assyria was running low on cash after years of war with the Hittites. His last great possession was the Star of the Euphrates , the most valuable diamond in the ancient world. Desperate, he went to Croesus, the pawnbroker, to ask for a loan.
Croesus said, “I’ll give you 100,000 dinars for it.”
“But I paid a million dinars for it,” the King protested. “Don’t you know who I am? I am the king!”
Croesus replied, “When you wish to pawn a Star, makes no difference who you are.”
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For those of you who are not Brits, a bit of background. The Daily Torygraph, er, Telegraph recently paid a goodly amount of money to an informer to pass it a CD on which were detailed lists of receipts submitted by MPs for their expenses. The information was due to be released by the House of Commons later in the year, after MPs had taken out some details such as their addresses. However, the Torygraph jumped the gun, paid a 6-figure sum, and has been drip-feeding the information day-by-day for about the past week.
I should add that last year the House of Commons nearly voted to suppress this information altogether, and not to release it to the public. They were shamed into rejecting this motion. Now we know why they were so eager to keep it under wraps.
British MPs are allowed to submit claims for reasonable expenses connected with having a home near Westminster, if they are not representing a constituency in London. However, there are some interesting entries in this list. Unless otherwise designated, those referred to below are Labour MPs.
Having had the first good night’s sleep since Sunday last night, I guess my dream machine was working overtime, I usually don’t remember dialogue from dreams, but this seemed to stand out, probably because of my recent “condition”.
I am walking up a street with an elderly man. He says, “Had to dig a latrine. In the nude”. I commented, “Must have been taken short”.
I won’t even go into the dream where I was in a bus station about to take a bus for Australia (yes, I know that buses for Australia are few and far between here in the UK). I believe the bus took off without me and my companion.
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One of the joys that long-term diabetics have to look forward to is intestinal trouble. This can be due to one of three things: an infection, a reaction to metformin (one of the drugs that diabetis often take), or autonomic neuropathy. What’s that when it’s at home? Your innards are, of course, run from nerves. Neuropathy is when the nerves die. The autonomic nervous system is what keeps your stomach, small and large intestines, and probably God only knows what else going.
On Sunday morning I awoke at 4 am needing to use the loo. I had a case of diarrhea. Sometimes this happens to everyone, of course, so I washed, and dressed (at 9 am) and went to church. I did tell HWMBO that I would probably not stay but would be back after setting up when my assistant sacristan arrived.
That was the last time I left the house for four days.
I have had the most excruciating diarrhea for the past four days. I have been unable to sleep more than an hour at a time (and that was sometimes a luxury). I had to sleep downstairs in the easy chair because I could not guarantee that I would get out of bed in time to get to the upstairs loo. I have had to race to the loo more times than I can count; I have been cleaning up the mess and generally being very miserable. By this morning I just wanted to die. I had no ambition to do anything except sit in the chair and listen to the radio or watch TV.
I finally called my GP this morning and we discussed my “diagnosis” of autonomic neuropathy. She prescribed something called Lomotil and it seems to (in conjunction with my observation that the symptoms were diminishing) have relieved the diarrhea. I am leaning to the conclusion that the exenatide, which delays emptying of the stomach, might have something to do with this. I shall be getting one more pen but will ask for an urgent appointment at the diabetic clinic when I get back from the US ande ask that they stop the exenatide and start me on insulin. No point in delaying the inevitable now, and since I’ve now gotten used to injecting myself, there’s no difference in injecting lizard spit from injecting insulin.
I ate my first full meal since Sunday this evening. I also slept for 4 hours this afternoon in my bed.
Now to figure out what triggers the condition (it’s not present all the time—there seem to be foods that might set it off) and stop eating it.
I’ve probably lost quite a bit of weight, on the bright side (I suppose there must always be a bright side).
(thanks to
…and many happy returns of the day.
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…and many happy returns of the day.
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