Went back to visit my siblings and their families in the Milwaukee area at the end of 2021. One of the days I went down to Chicago, to the Art Institute, which I like to do whenever I can. I get such inspiration there; it’s an amazing collection of art. I’ve included a few pictures from that afternoon.
It was typical December weather while I was there, reminding me of what a real winter feels like. Happy to say I’m back in Los Angeles, although I can’t say it’s balmy, it’s certainly well above freezing!
Pride flag flying in Cedarburg
The blogger before coffee
The little red barn at my brother’s house
Decorations in Cedarburg
Cedarburg City Hall and Christmas Tree
More Christmas fun
Cedarburg at winter dawn
Crafty Xmas decoration!
Love these 19th century buildings.
The old school building
The old mill on Cedar Creek
An old gas station repurposed
Went to say hello to Mom and Dad
The blogger on the train to Chicago
Paris Street; Rainy Day by Gustave Caillebotte
Detail of At the Moulin Rouge, Toulouse-Lautrec
Detail from Moulin de la Galette, Toulouse-Lautrec
In the Cafe, Fernand Lungren
Detail of In the Wings, Jean Louis Forain
Barbara Kruger
Barbara Kruger
Barbara Kruger
Barack by Jordan Casteel
Tiffany Lamp
The Tiffany Window
Empty Las Vegas Airport at 4 am
Walking around an empty airport
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A few lies about retirement, or, just a few things I know so far from personal experience and common sense.
You can’t retire with a mortgage
Well, here’s the thing. Of course you canretire with a mortgage! I’m not sure I know anyone who is retired who has also paid off the mortgage, although I do know a couple of high-earning folks who probably have. But honestly, they’re a tiny minority in my life.
My late father, my siblings who are retired, and closest friends who are retired all have or had mortgages when they stopped working.
I wonder, did Liberace pay off his mortgage?
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I think this “rule” is a relic of that post-war past when middle class Americans could afford to buy a house with a middle income and live as a family on just that one income for 40 years, then retire for a few healthy years with a defined pension and their social security. And no mortgage, cause they paid it off in 30 years and they never moved!
Those days are ancient history for the vast majority. I know some contemporaries whose parents would have hit this sweet spot. But they’ve largely left the planet by now.
You can’t be a renter and retire: homeowner or else!
This myth is also something I often see in financial articles about retirement. Again, I think this is a bias that the financial press has about homeownership being the correct aspirational goal for everyone.
This is a hard one since we, as Americans, are conditioned to believe this myth from childhood. I used to have this argument with my father all the time. He was very invested in the idea of being a homeowner – well, he was a man with a wife and eight children, of course he’d want a stable home with something like a yard for his kids to play in. Also, I think he liked the security of knowing what the payment would always be.
The blogger perusing a box of Heartland granola in Dad’s kitchen.
I have a very different frame of reference. I’ve always been single, I don’t have children or other dependents, and both times I owned homes (condominiums, in my case) I soon felt antsy and trapped and really didn’t want the responsibility to take care of the many things that you get to be in charge of as an owner.
To get back to my main point – it may be desirable for the financial industry if everyone is a homeowner – more money for mortgage brokers, banks and real estate folks – but you can be a renter and retire just fine. I’m doing it, as are countless folks in apartments and senior housing around the country.
And one last point on that – a pet peeve of mine – are those who say you’re just throwing your money away on rent. How ridiculous! You are buying a roof over your head with that money – my current roof costs about $16 a day. If anything, the Great Recession schooled us on how foolish it would be to assume that real estate was always an investment that would appreciate endlessly. In most areas of the country, you’d be better off investing in an index fund.
And finally – for now, anyway, this lie about retirement:
You need a certain amount of money to retire
Is it $1.7 million? Seriously? If that’s true, most people will never be able to retire.
This is the headline for the above linked article on CNBC.com: Most Americans say you need $1.7 million to retire—here’s how much money to save each month to get there
So it might be nice – real nice – to have that cool $1.7 million when you finally stop working, but the truth is one day you’ll find yourself older and not working and realize you’ve “retired,” whether you’ve got the $1.7 mil or not.
The serene face of a new retiree who does not have $1.7 million in the bank. Happy anyway.
I think this – perhaps it’s a good, general, rule of thumb – but at its heart is the wrong metric. What you should focus on is spending level, not income level.
By focusing on income level, the financial gurus perpetuate as a truism that all people spend all of their income. But, let’s say, you make 150K per year and only spend 75K. Wouldn’t it make more sense to pin the retirement numbers on what you actually spent? I think so.
It makes way more sense. But then, of course, it’s a lower number for most people, then you wouldn’t need all these financial advisors and their investment products. Heavens! What then – the gurus who write these things for financial sites like the ones I’ve linked will be making less money.
As with so many things, it’s helpful to follow the money to figure out who’s really benefiting from this kind of advice.
In April/May, I spent a couple of weeks in NOLA visiting family. First trip since the pandemic upended everything! Wanted to share some photos I took both there and on the train (Amtrak’s Sunset Limited) there and back.
Old southern house seen from train.
Above ground graveyard somewhere in Louisiana (seen from train)
my feet on an old hearts of pine floor.
I thought this was pretty (at a restaurant in NOLA)
Mrs. Maisel’s Fabric Store
My lovely sister and niece.
A grand old NOLA house.
Outside the El Paso Amtrak Station.
Meditation dome.
Love that Spanish Moss!
I hate seeing these ghost bikes. RIP.
Loved this house as well.
Antebellum building being renovated for senior housing!
This is a main street in a Texas town, as seen from the train.
Daisies
How they raise a house in NOLA.
Little church in a NOLA neighborhood.
Location of the Upstairs Lounge, a deadly attack on the gay community of NOLA back in 1973.
Leafy walk in Uptown, NOLA.
Love these little shotgun houses (also Uptown, NOLA)
The Blogger before coffee at a house in NOLA.
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Recently I went on a train trip to New Orleans (Amtrak Sunset Limited) to visit my sister and brother-in-law and family. Went out there by train, flew back. This video is a compilation of some views from the train, especially in Texas, as well as some of the sights and sounds of New Orleans. Those are a bit different from the usual tourist things you see, as it’s not the French Quarter, it’s Uptown New Orleans where my relatives live.
I like taking morning walks, so I made a bunch of walking videos of the sites along my routes. Hope you enjoy the clips!
Took Amtrak’s Southwest Chief (and the Hiawatha) to visit family in Milwaukee. Some pictures of the journey and my relatives for your viewing pleasure!
Mixed feelings about the trip – was great to celebrate the 4th and see my siblings and their families, also to partake in the summer celebrations in Milwaukee, the main reason I made this particular trip was to join them in burying our parents’ ashes at a cemetery just north of Milwaukee in Belgium, Wisconsin. So, something that needed to be done and a sense of finality with that. I think they would have liked the place we chose (my dad chose the cemetery after my mom died, but not the particular plot, that was left to us) and I think it’s a beautiful and peaceful spot.
Oh Amtrak! Unfortunately the trip home was delayed 16.5 hours because of a locomotive breakdown and then subsequent delays along the entire route. I did complain; I got a voucher to use on a future train trip (like that will be something I’ll do soon – not) but really coincidentally there’s this great story by Justin Fox in Bloomberg which I’ll link to which provides the context much better than I can. I really do enjoy the pace of train travel (it’s not only the Amish!) so I hope they can get their act together before it all goes down the tubes. I’d be very wary of taking one of these long hauls again (anything with a two night overnight, as all trains from the west coast to Chicago or New Orleans seem to be). Anyway, it’s good to be home!
Waiting Room at Union Station, Los Angeles. (Building from 1939)
Barstow Station
in the desert. . .
Gallup, NM, station
Albuquerque Station
At Albuquerque Station
La Junta, CO
Rainbows, and it’s not even Pride month
Lawrence, KS
About to cross Mississippi from Iowa to Illinois
Mississippi River at Fort Madison, Iowa
Somewhere in Illinois
The view from bro’s porch.
4th of July, Cedarburg
Before the soiree
Blogger, before soiree
Summerfest, MKE
Summerfest, MKE
Summerfest, MKE
We buried our parents’ ashes.
Sister Kate and niece Emily!
Nephew Steve, Sister-in-law Laura and my brother Dick
waiting for Southwest Chief at Chicago Union Station
Antinous, Emperor Hadrian’s lover. Love this sexy bust!
John Singer Sargent. Magnificent.
Another John Singer Sargent. How I love to be pampered and read to.
From the Sargent school, the gilded age of Chicago, but not a Sargent painting. But I love it.
Danny Lyon, Three Young Men, from Uptown, Chicago.
(goes with photo prev)
Chicago river, late summer sunset.
More Chi River, tourist boat and the El.
man, best friend, fountain.
So much to love here.
OK, horror fans, I stood in front of the real Miglin house, Gold Coast, Chi. (Cunanan serial murders)
Lovely park in Cedarburg
Sister Pati and brother Pete
Pati and Peter at Starbucks
A sidewalk garden in Milwaukee
Milwaukee Art Center’s Calatrava addition
Early evening in Cedarburg.
Street view in Cedarburg. Like Norman Rockwell, I always think.
My elbow and my knees.
I got a pedicure in MKE. Needed it.
Stranger at the coffee bar.
Vegetable garden at the local grade school.
Flora along the bike path.
Spent most of the month of September in Milwaukee visiting family. Of course, I took pictures! After so long in California I’m always amazed at the lush flora there, every year repeating the cycle of birth and growth and decline and death. September is the end of summer so everything is at its lush-est, blown out, just waiting for the decline to start. There is just so much vegetation – in a place where it rains.
Went to Chicago to look at the Art Institute’s John Singer Sargent and Chicago’s Gilded Age exhibit. Loved it! So there are some random photos from that day, and a few others of family or other scenery. Why not share them? They’re not doing much good just sitting on my phone. When we are ready for a little loose morality we can log on again for our super viagra generic quick fix. The medicine that is similarly working for a disease for the same kind of medicine is a generic drug hence it treats significantly one’s erection issue just try out this drug called cialis 10mg 100 mg. Therefore, insure him plenty of time to sleep, time to eat, time to wake up, late night achat viagra pfizer work and more the hormones that are lacking. Chiropractors believe that viagra professional canada this is the leading cause of cancers, tobacco smoking can lead to vascular disorders.
Editor note: Do I wish I was back on the train? Sort of. I like them. Sometimes you just want to escape, know what I mean?
But back to Portland/Camas: After nearly a month, I was ready to go home to Los Angeles. I’d decided I’d ask if there were any upgrades to sleepers for the Coast Starlight and maybe fork over the dough if there were. There weren’t vacancies, unfortunately, but this train does have a business class car which made a huge difference.
Upgrading to business class: Worth the $57 I paid on top of the pass I already had. It included a seat with way more legroom, a dedicated car where there weren’t very many people buying that ticket (in other words, a mostly empty car), free water bottles, a $6 coupon for the lounge or dining car, and WiFi – the train itself did not have WiFi. This car did.
Portland Amtrak Station
Portland Station closeup
Exec. waiting room at Portland Station
Chemult, OR
Sacramento station stop
View of Sacramento from station
California hills
More California hills
Yet even more California hills
Expecting Barbara Stanwyck to ride up in her leather pantsuit
The Coast Starlight left Portland in the afternoon. Around 2:20 or so. It was a bit late, but ultimately got to LA early. I think they build in a lot of “fudge” time on their train timetables – no matter how late or early the trains were in the middles of the journeys, they always seemed to arrive on time or early at the final destination. Go figure!
The afternoon of Sunday, May 21 was a real eye-opener. The route was from Portland south through the interior of Oregon, stops at places like Eugene, Salem, Chemult, Klamath Falls, etc. The route goes through the Cascades, where there was still quite a bit of snow. It was a gorgeous landscape, very wooded, very mountainous, not a lot of buildings or roads. Quite empty, or at least it seemed that way from the train. Prime Bigfoot country, I would imagine. If I believed in such things.
Overnight the train went past Mt. Shasta with California stops like Dunsmuir, and through the northern part of the central valley – or maybe it’s the Sacramento Valley, not sure—and at dawn arrived in my birth city of Sacramento. From there, it lurched southwest to Emeryville and Oakland — even though there were points where you could see across the bay to the glittery buildings of San Francisco, the train does not go there. Oakland is the closest stop.
From there on south – inland to some areas with giant, golden brown hills and huge oaks, like the landscapes of so many of the paintings we sold at Early California Antiques. It was glorious. I don’t think you can see these landscapes from the road, at least no so dramatically. South of San Luis Obispo the train goes along the actual coast for miles into Santa Barbara and beyond. It was a beautiful sunny day and grateful for that. See photos and the videos — truly glorious.
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Salinas station
Salinas Station
Salinas Station
Salinas Station
More California scenery
San Luis Obispo Station
San Luis Obispo Station
Pacific Ocean from the train
This was the terrain most familiar to me. We turn inland at Ventura/Oxnard, eventually going over the Santa Susanna Pass to Chatsworth, and coming really close to the site of the former Spahn Ranch (Manson Family!). It’s really rather rocky and quite wild there—I’m not sure riding the bike out there the whole way would be doable, as there are some hills. But it might be. (I thought I would ride the Orange Line Bikepath the entire way from my house to where it ends in Chatsworth – from there just a short distance to the site of the old Spahn Ranch. But I digress.)
I got off the train at the Burbank Airport Station. A young girl, who also disembarked there, asked to use my phone. I was uncertain because, you know, I thought she might steal it. Run away. And I’d never be able to catch her! Because – why, I don’t know, she was dressed kind of punkish but maybe not so different from how my niece Emily might look, so I let her.
She did not run away with the phone. She thanked me and left.
I called a Lyft, and in 20 minutes I was at home.
That was 30 days on a rail pass. I’m sure I’ll do it again.
Monday, May 15 2017, got on the train for Portland, the Empire Builder. My sister Pati dropped me off at the station. (The train goes from Chicago to either Seattle or Portland, your choice, what they do is split the train in Spokane, WA, some of it going to Seattle and some of it going to, you guessed it, Portland OR.)
Everything was “preferential” from the line that was just for sleeping car passengers, to my dining car ticket when I got on the train, to the car attendant (David) introducing himself as soon as we rolled out past Miller Brewery (which I used to stare out at from classes in high school for 4 years a long time ago — the sign on the top rotates, although not smoothly, at least back then, there were multiple long gaps).
The sleeper accommodation had two wide seats which face each other, individual overhead lighting options for reading and also for room illumination. The windows had curtains. There was a very narrow closet where you could hang jackets or shirts or something thin like that. There were a couple of “steps” near the door which could be used as a table or a place to put a suitcase (that’s what I used them for) or as the way to get to the top berth once it was lowered. Since I wasn’t sharing the roomette, the top berth was not used.
David turned down the cushions and made up the bed that night after diiner. I also figured out how to make the seats lie flat during the day, if I wanted to lie down and take a nap or something. Honestly, once you’ve gone roomette you never want to go back to coach. I’m sure I will though, I won’t always be able to get such a deal and the normal retail price of these private rooms is very high.
The train left Milwaukee close to 4 pm so there wasn’t much of anything to see during daylight Monday except for rural Wisconsin, which is, as a matter of fact, very pretty, especially as you go further west and there’s some hill and rock formation type landscape near the Mississippi River. We stopped for a longer period of time in Minneapolis/St. Paul and I got out to walk the platform. I was able to sleep a bit, though not extensively even flat on my back in the sleeper car, but when I awoke we were firmly in North Dakota. I believe I slept through the stop at Fargo, North Dakota (which is right on the Minnesota border, anyway).
View of the roomette
Miller Brewery in MKE from the train
North Dakota gothic.
Train crossing in western Wisconsin.
Tuesday, May 16. – States were North Dakota and Montana. Both are big states. Montana, interestingly, is almost all flat until we got to the far northwest of that state, which is then the Rockies and Glacier National Park. (We arrived in Glacier around dinnertime, which was AWESOME – see pix and videos.)
So basically the ride through the northern plains was uneventful. I was surprised there were so many ponds and little lakes in North Dakota. Wondered if they are always there, or if that was the result of recent snowmelt.
It’s not nearly as barren as say, Nebraska. Lots more variety in ND as far as trees and other landscapes go. Same thing with plains in Montana. So with North Dakota, I’ve been to my 49th state. Alaska, I’m coming for ya.
Trainside in Minot
Strolling in ND
Proof the blogger has been to North Dakota.
OK, cute butt. Maybe two.
For rent alongside the tracks.
Stop in Montana
Across the tracks in Montana, Oil City Bar.
Train stop
Why they call it Big Sky country!
Rural Montana
Near Glacier Park
Near Glacier Park
Near Glacier Park
View from Whitefish, MT
Whitefish ski area, MT
Whitefish, MT trainside
Columbia River? Not sure.
Along Columbia River valley
Along Columbia River between Spokane and Portland
I got to Portland on Wednesday (train takes 2 days) via another gorgeous route – this one along the Columbia River from Spokane to Portland. The Empire Builder train splits in Spokane – some of the cars going to Seattle, the other half the train going to points in Southern Washington state before ending in DT Portland and Union Station there.
Mostly the scenery on my side of the train (the right side, or the northern facing side) was of rock formations along the river gorge. It was early morning and breakfast time, a crisp sunny morning, not a cloud in the sky. Really pretty (and you see, I have pictures). In general, healthier you are better your sexual viagra rx life also. Because the body is dependent on the substance, there are sometimes dangerous seizures in addition to the well known one levitra pills from canada of improving one’s sex life and curing erectile dysfunction. How to discount viagra cure Erectile Dysfunction There are versatile cures that can help men get over ED or impotence. Also, ginseng in Wisconsinis believed to reduce the signs of aging levitra from canada and increases stamina and the energy level. ‘The destroyer of weakness’ is named such, due to the abrupt mechanism of PDE5 enzymes which block the functioning routes of the male reproductive organ for circulating the flow of the blood into this region & it leads for enhancement of the capability of the men by improving the blood supply to.
The mundane things: finding the Car Rental place while traversing the blocks of the sketchy and the homeless—sometimes one and the same. Once I got there it was pretty simple, and remembering how to get to John’s place was no big deal (don’t know why I thought it would be).
So here’s the truth about his place out there: It’s not in Portland. It’s in the Portland area, but it’s rural Washington state, the fringes and I mean woodsy fringes of Camas, Washington, which is a little town on the Columbia River. But John lives no where near the town, it’s miles away along a 2 lane blacktop in the woods with no shoulder (where the speed limit is 50 mph).
And no matter what he says, it really does take more like 45 minutes to get to Portland (because of the traffic, not the distance) not 20 like he sometimes says when he talks about it. It’s a beautiful place to visit and I love it, but it’s not in Portland.
The next day (Thursday) we DID go to Portland to sightsee, to the Pittock Mansion, an old place left over from one of Portland’s founding families. A fun tour of a very nice old house, something that I think both John and I enjoyed.
Friday was an aborted day trip to Seattle. Bad planning on my part. I figured I could just get a round trip ticket with my pass with no problem, similar to the Hiawatha and the MKE-CHI route, but the Amtrak Cascades is different. Unfortunately, the return trip was sold out so I just drove back after a little breakfast from the Safeway (!) that was less that stellar. (NOTE to readers – this is the section of Amtrak that was hit with the derailment in December, 2017, near Tacoma WA)
I was a bit disappointed that my little side trip to Seattle didn’t work out so I decided to drive to Mt. St. Helens. That was about a 1.5 hour trip from John’s. I didn’t go to the furthest viewing point as it would have been more driving but it was beautiful and the best part was that it wasn’t crowded. Just a very peaceful day to be by myself. So now basically both times I’ve been to Mt. St. Helens the summit was shrouded in clouds. I guess I’ll have to keep trying.
When I got back John’s his nephews (actually his grand nephews) were there, an 11-year-old and an 8-year-old, names were Bodie and Rylo. Great kids, inquisitive and respectful. Behaved well. John adores them and I could see why, they were absolutely delightful.
We all ate dinner together. John made meatloaf and some corn and probably something else. Don’t remember. There were brownies under one of those pedestal cake plates. I asked if they were regular brownies or if they were “special” brownies. John seemed aghast that I would think he would “poison” me but I had to make sure, I mean really, the last thing I wanted to do was to eat something with pot in it.
Saturday, May 20, was a day in Portland. This was the day I saw old friend George Brown. We met at Pioneer Heritage Square, all of which seems rather sinister (maybe the heritage part) in the wake of the white supremacist murders on the Max train, which happened later in the week that I was there.
Anyway, we had lunch at a place called Jake’s, downtown, it was very nice, kind of cloth napkin nice. We walked all over, saw two different Saturday festivals, like a farmers market and then a craft fair, both were interesting and very popular. Even if Portland is much smaller than SF or LA it still seems like a really big city to me. We spent probably most of the afternoon together and then went our separate ways. It was so great to see George again, someone I originally met in 1983. Again I had no problem finding my way back to John’s in Camas.
Saturday was my last night there at John’s—don’t remember what we did but maybe that was the night we watched the Bernie Madoff movie (with Robert DeNiro and Michelle Pfeiffer). The next morning was mainly packing up and leaving —stopping at the Safeway to buy made sandwiches for the Coast Starlight which was a 30 hour journey down the coast. Next: Back home to Los Angeles.
Train trip continues – first leg of my monthly pass was Los Angeles-New Orleans, where I got off the Sunset Limited. My sister and brother-in-law (Kate and Dave) picked me up at the station.
Here’s the train near dusk entering Morgan City, Louisiana:
Most of the days there were filled with family catching up. They live in the Uptown neighborhood, about a block from the Mississippi River levee, in a very quiet little corner of NOLA that Dave has called a “quiet small Southern town.”
I have to agree. Love being there, I love the quiet and the pace. So so different from Los Angeles. And everywhere the divine decadence of the old city collapsing, almost: the streets are unbelievably uneven with potholes everywhere; the sidewalks are cracked and chipped or non-existent. The songs of cicadas rise and fall as you walk, the Spanish Moss hangs from the trees and often buildings sport saplings or other plants from their own facade cracks.
Here’s me walking to coffee in Uptown:
I’ve been there often enough now to have pretty much seen most of the tourist spots and now my favorite activity is just to walk and absorb the city: its people, architecture, culture — which of course includes music, and I was there for Jazz Fest activities.
We didn’t go to the Jazz Fest grounds, but a lot of the musicians play in clubs around town during the event, and we did get to see one of my favorite NOLA musicians, Jon Cleary.
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Sex notes — I’m not having any here, but I do have thoughts/opinions on it — On looking for sex so far – it’s the apps, it’s all about the apps, it’s Adam4Adam. The same thing I typically get at home – headless or totally photo-less guys emailing me asking me if I’m interested in sex. I don’t even bother answering anymore. Especially on that site Adam for Adam – the only reason I keep it is that I still would like to meet this one L.A. guy some day and so far as I’ve seen, he’s not on Grindr or Scruff. And of course, I would never run into him in the real world, because who goes out anymore? How we’ve changed, in such a short time.
I thought about writing this last night and this morning, and decided maybe I should try cruising, you know street cruising, again, which I’ve largely avoided since prostate cancer surgery for a number of reasons. There’s also the part about being old. It usually doesn’t happen anymore, that instant eyeball connection that was made in public so often in the younger years. But sometimes it still does happen.
It’s still fraught with danger, somewhat, in that you never know if you’re cruising a straight guy who will be offended and possibly violent. Or, if you cruise a younger guy—and at this stage, they’re ALL younger—you risk coming off as a creeper. So I usually don’t – make initial eye contact, or do the 1-2-3 turn-around-and-look dance.
One of the days we went up to City Park to look at the sculpture garden and have coffee and beignets. At least I did. Some pictures of that park below.
One sculpture in particular caught my fancy, it was for the Resistance Fighters. Obviously super relevant in the age of Trump.
Here’s some pix from the NOLA portion of the trip:
Actually this is Houston train station. (Close enough)
Jolene, one of my most beloved canine friends.
It’s true; I do like bike
Jon Cleary
Blogger with sister Kate
Ruthermere, where I stayed
Protestors over the removal of this Confederate statue – is now gone. City Park
a WPA Bridge, City Park. Loving the deco typography
loved the deco typography. Also in City Park
Leandro Erlich: Window with Ladder: Too Late for Help
Arnaldo Pomodoro: A Battle: For the Resistance Fighters
HOW SOCIAL MEDIA REALLY CHANGED THE TRIP, i.e., So much of the time I was looking at the scenery from the train not with my eyes, but as it looked through the lens of my smartphone (for this trip, that was the Samsung Galaxy 3, way out of date, but that’s another story). It was almost as if I didn’t post it, it wasn’t valid or wasn’t worth looking at.
Sunday April 23. The day I left. Or, the evening I left. Nice thing, the Sunset Limited leaves Los Angeles on its eastward journey at 10 p.m. This is civilized. This gives you all day, literally, to pack and get downtown to the station. And, even better, when I got there, they told me the train was already available to board. So there it was, no hassle, no lines, relaxed and likely a half hour ahead of departure time. Here’s a picture from the train while it was waiting to depart Union Station in Los Angeles.
In the Sunset Limited in LA’s Union Station, waiting for the train to leave.
So, as you can see, it was dark.
It was a dark but clean train. The photo belies that it was surprisingly full — did I say I was in coach? Well, I was, Yes I was — all the passes are for coach. If you want to upgrade to a roomette you can, but it’s not included so you have to pay for it. I did, later in the trip, so see further dispatch posts (look for the Empire Builder).
I sat next to a nervous anxious woman, close to my age, who was visiting her son in Tucson. I think she said she was going to her grandson’s graduation from high school? Seemed kind of early in the year for that, but it’s what I remember. She’s surprisingly candid to me, a total stranger. Maybe this is what comes in the dark as we are propelled hypnotically, rhythmically down the tracks toward the east. She fears there’s a family rift there, but wants to be closer to them. I’m not much help; I offer the usual bromides of “family things can be difficult, I know.” She said she lived in South Pasadena. I say I lived in the valley but nothing beyond that; I didn’t want to really engage her in conversation because she seemed a bit dizzy and who knows what could come of that.
She did not sleep well on the train either (I was a wide awake not-happy camper) and she sighed a lot. Nervous, sad and anxious! When we got to Tucson in the early morning (but late enough to be light out) she almost missed her stop because she didn’t know it was Tucson, even though the announcement said it was, multiple times, and of course there were signs at the depot if you just looked out the window. I finally reminded her: “Didn’t you say you were going to Tucson? We’re here.”
Interior of an Amtrak coach car at night, in station (not moving)
April 24, Monday. On the train roughly from Tucson to Del Rio, Texas. Author notes: I’m not a happy camper as I really can’t sleep on the train. I’m in coach, remember, with the lady that’s fretting.
At Tucson after the lady gets off, and a young guy gets on and has the seat next to me. Weird kind of Mohawk he’s got. Likely early 30s, tattoos, average-looking. I’m thinking ex-con or something but probably just not from a huge city somewhere. BUT — When I got back from the lounge car he had taken my window seat AND he was using my pillow, the pillow that I bought as a camping accessory decades ago which is inflatable. I asked for it back (the pillow that is, not the seat, I moved to an empty seat as there were lots) his excuse was he thought maybe the pillow “was something they gave out on the train.” Um, not likely, not in this universe.
Yet here I had some fun taking videos of the border wall/fence/whatever in El Paso and again as we sped through Marfa, TX, setting for such movies/tv as Giant, The Last Picture Show, and I Love Dick.
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Marfa
Tuesday, April 25
Author note: Wishing the train trip to NOLA was over. It’s a two-day train ride. My ass hurts, my back hurts, my sciatica is acting up and there’s literally no place on this train where I can stretch.
Long layover in San Antonio with no announcements as to why we’re delayed, although I did ask a conductor and got an answer right away: Tech problems with the toilets, he tells me! We certainly do want them operational.
My mind wanders to sexual realm: Has anyone on the train been fuckable in a traditional sense, like from my past sex life? Why yes — there was kind of a jock/college type on for part of the initial journey. I think he got off at Tucson, probably a U of A student. (As a matter of fact, a tremendous amount of the train pop got off at Tucson.) That day (Monday) was a week after Easter so maybe they were coming back from break? Anyway, he possessed that young manly beauty where it’s effortless, and this guy seemed self-effacing, so that he didn’t even realize how attractive (and really, stunning) he was to an older gay man like me. Or maybe he does, who knows? We had no interaction. We did not exchange looks. I have no reason to think he was either gay or straight or anything.
One thing definitely different on this trip (than the last train ride, I guess) is I’m more invisible. I feel this. There is less slack given to an older person, and not just in the sexual realm but everywhere. People are just not willing to put up with older people and I can really feel a difference, although it’s not like I’m saying it’s terrible, it’s just different. Cuteness won’t get you anywhere, i.e., because you’re no longer cute and they don’t look at you the way they used to. Or maybe it’s just that I’m crabby. From lack of sleep?
Question for the blogger: When was the last time I was actually cruised, as in real life, and not on an “app?” I will have to think about that one.
But I did take some stills, so here’s a few for you.
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