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Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Ol’ Robbo tried to start several different posts on various topics this evening and couldn’t seem to get any of them to fire.   One was about how staggeringly beautiful Melania Trump is, one was about a kerfluffle at a local mega-church, and one was about the dynamics of having all three Gels home for a few days, a thing that has become something of a rarity now that the older two are off at school.  All interesting topics, I should think, but the words just wouldn’t come.


Ol’ Robbo is quite used to sailing into the compositional doldrums come summah, but none of the usual factors seems to be at play here.  The weather has been pretty cool and I’m not yet suffering my chronic heat exhaustion brought on by commuting in a jeep with no A/C.  I’ve no major distractions or troubles at the moment.  I’m perhaps more aware than usual of the dangers relevant to my professional standing from hitting the wrong hot-button topics, but while I often have to bite my tongue about those, this doesn’t usually prevent me from blathering about other things.   No, it seems I’ve just got the Block.

Heigh-ho.  It happens.

Whelp, Time the Great Healer, and all that.  Rayther than waste any more of your valuable time on it, I’m instead going to go watch “Lost Horizon” (1937) which turned up in my Netflix queue today.  I first saw this film some time in my early teens, and I think it was the first Civilized Westerner meets Exotic East adventure tale to really fire up my imagination, and to eventually lead me to authors such as Rider Haggard, P.C. Wren, Anthony Hope, R.L. Stevenson, C.S. Forester, and, of course, Kipling.  And yes, I read the James Hilton novel on which the movie is based not all that long ago and enjoyed it, too.

Maybe a little escapism will do the trick, eh?


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June 2019