Monday, June 12, 2017


like I do. I was telling the woman I love about the Newport I knew and loved. I took her there once and showed it to her, the places I lived, the places I'd gone to school. I talked about the last of the fossil fueled super carriers and how they ended up at the same dock that played host to two LNG tanker ships that were so poorly built they could not be sold and the USCG would not give anybody a licence to tow them away to be broken up, so they mouldered away at the destroyer pier where, once upon a time, my first ship sailed from. When I was just starting out on that journey to be an officer, the 'gunny' had us run over there every morning before breakfast. It left me with an enduring dislike of breakfast.

Newport, Rhode Island and Maine, were never places where I used to toss in that phrase that every single one of us learned from watching Deliverance. If we hear banjo music, we run away.

Right over there, sort of close to piers was the Middleton Housing area where a friend of mine lived with his wive. They were musical. He could play any stringed instrument like a maestro and she could play their piano in that tiny place like a goddess of music. They used to entertain. They threw a dinner party every week and they would play, long into the night and those who could, would play alongside. Magical nights.

This, was decades before the carriers showed up on their route to destruction but, as I recall, the LNG elephants were there.

so, anyway, enjoy

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