Covent Gardens’

I’m delighted to be here in Covent Gardens. I was last here 50 years ago and it was a place to buy flowers and vegetables as I recall. Today it’s the most amazing upscale shopping complex. I’m sitting downstairs at Chez Antoinette having a cappuccino and piece of chocolate cake. I feel decadent.

I came here following the map on my iPhone which was taking me to it’s home. I wanted the nearest Apple Store and it served up Apple Coventry Gardens , around the corner from my Thistle Hotel by Piccadilly.  Lovely walk despite the light rain.  

Again Apple doesn’t have the same replacement IPad which will be replaced if I can find a store with the correct model.  I only bought it last year but apparently there’s only one store a mile or two from here with that model. I could make an apt tomorrow to get it if I wished. I don’t wish to commit a day to an apt when I’ll be going to the musical Mormons at night and could go to the Corbault Modern gallery or British Museum.  

Today I have bought a cross the chest light weight ipad carrier bag which is half the fuss of my pack sack.  This light bag sits in the front and seems to carry easier and safer than the backpack. Also light enough I believe I’ll get it in the carryon home. 

I sent a bag of gifts souvenirs to the god kids.  Yesterday I bought them and today I’ve found a post office on Regent and sent them.

I also bought delicious burgers from 5 guys with milkshakes and enjoyed lunch in the hotel room.  The last time I swung by on the way to Apple Laura was in the shower. She said she wanted a down day since we were going to ballet tonight. Looking for Apple I came across the Royal Opera House. It’s very close. We’re seeing Swan Lake tonight. 

I find myself walking down the streets thinking, ‘nice legs…..great breasts….beautiful face….love that dress…..great shoes…sexy walk, ….she’s cute…he looks smart….wonder what that accent is….the locals know the origins of the accents…..love that jacket….nice breasts….love the mini skirts…nice legs…..great walk….she’s posh….she’s Indian….love the lipstick….great eye shadow…..nice walk….she must have been a dancer….love the groups of girls….all dressed up as if they’ve decided to meet for a shop…..I suspect I’m the oldest I’ve seen….she’s old…..he’s probably younger but he looks all used up…he looks my age, nicely dressed, elegant….not so bad being older if you don’t let yourself go…..Laura comments on the women that let themselves go….I guess its the same for the guys…..nice breasts…she’s probably half my age…he’s only 20….looks like a swimmer….that guy has been in the gym….there are so many good looking young people….my mind registers the 40 year olds……sexiest…..the older ones catch my attention with the interesting faces, carriage…..accomplishments, often wealth….in Oxford the older women that caught my eye looked more intelligent…..the 40 year olds that catch my eye are just sexy , attractive….I want to talk all night with the older women while the young women strip and walk about the room. “

It’s difficult being saddled with this mind. Should have it on a leash like my dog.  I imagine we’re all part of a group mind…..God is present in the whole mix. …I ‘m here in the now….It’s a kind of walking meditation….interrupted of course by those breasts….they were beautific and I loved that the woman knew and seemed to appreciate I appreciated her beauty. I am so bored by the cows who played that game of walking around with their tits hanging out so they can slap men for looking. Passive aggressive manipulative cunts.

It’s a long time since I was drinking and took glee in poking ego balloons.  Today the shame isn’t about nudity or sex but rather about dildos and anal play.  Group sex and black outs. That’s what worries. ‘I let my best friend’s boyfriend and father do anal on me’ the college grad complains. Now the excuse is cocaine.In my day alcohol didn’t let you off. The regrets that are shared are about letting someone film the train and not about the train. So much is about the internet.  Now everything is out there.

I’m walking along remembering times when the world was electric and I was a part of the god mind , feeling connected .Now I’m just another tourist. Aging.  I remember young being obsessed like a dog or a cat with a particular woman.  I am surprised today that the thoughts are just in passing. More like ‘oh that’s barley growing there, over there is flax, did you see the sheep.”

I love the crowds and people. I love the feeling of being amidst such an international gathering.  I’m in London, the centre, the heart.  So much is happening. So many ideas. So much fertility. Such imagination. Laura liked the giant ice cream cone with the insect on the side, the drone and the cherry on top at Trafalgar Square. The insect did it for me. Art. Here in Coventry I love the quaintness.  I look forward to being in Paris next week. The shop signs about are like the left bank. This place is Chez Antoinette. I’ ve been enjoying the impressionists.  My love hate with French weakening. They were Scotlands Allies against the British but in Canada Quebec is a mean spirited evil welfare bum. That’s Montreal. The rural folk and Quebec City sorts don’t have the arrogance that seems to be at it’s worse when too many French men gather.  Nothing bad is ever said of French Women.  Except that the way they mother must have something to do with so many Montreal and Parisienne males struggling with impotence.  This is silly. It comes from a few encounters with most sales people in Paris and Montreal.  Thankfully my roommate Fern from ST. Boniface was salt of the earth like so many French Canadians I know personally. The ease with which a resentment embeds.  The Parisian cafe waiter who mocks my French as a young man.  He was like a similar waiter in New York. Suddenly I generalize the slight.  What a petty little bugger I am .  The fact is I do enjoy the French contribution to style and art.  The Impressionists are my favourite visual artists.  

Time to move along.  I’ve pressed the pus out of my brain with a little journaling and can feel some relief.  I’ve so liked writing this trip. See one, do one, teach one was the old adage. By writing and reviewing my outward experiences I’ve more memory and more insight,

Canada's Black Friday Shameful Sales

I came downtown on Saturday to witness and record the carnage after the Black Friday Sale. I was expecting ravaged bodies and ambulances. Caught up in the new world journalism craze for catastrophe seeking and viewing I had secretly hoped for body parts in the cold streets of downtown Vancouver.  A severed head outside of the Victoria Secret might have been newsworthy. Crime scene tape around the new Nordstroms.  I’m a conservative Canadian. It wasn’t like I was asking for much.  I thought at least the Liberal Political Correctness Police would ban the racist designation of cheap sales.  Some white male privilege offenders could be handcuffed naked outside a paddy wagon Maybe a severed arm crushed in the revolving door of Hudson Bay.
But this is Canada.  A decade of Conservativism has made us collectively polite and well mannered.  The US Black Friday Sales invariably cause  the aliens that normally limit their shopping to Walmart and Costco to slut walk and zombie dance through the downtown stores of American cities.      Worse in Canada, Black Friday was hardly an event. Hockey season has begun and Canadians only riot if there’s hockey involved.   The merchants of Vancouver had to extende Black Friday to Black Friday Weekend. A whole weekend of political incorrectness and consumer cannabilism.
Before I could get away from the disgusting low brow mass ritual of insensitive disregard of the world’s poor, I was physically sucked right into Moore’s Men’s Clothing.  A young salesman seeing my passing interest in a winter wool coat sized me instantly. It’s not too difficult. I’m beyond those confusing S, M, L designations.  Size F for Fat or B for Big fits me just fine.  And so did the coat he gave me.  $99.  I’m sure the very same one was in Nordstroms for $1000.  “It’s normally $500 here but that’s the Black Friday Sale price.”  Looking both ways to ensure I wasn’t being filmed I slid my, quite possibly promiscuous Visa card surreptitiously across the counter and watched helplessly as it was  raped by the awful Moore’s Men’s Clothing money machine.
The young man then  wrapped my purchase  in a black wrapper like pornography.  I could only hope that others would think it was my laundry. I didn’t want anyone thinking that I’d actually participated in a liberal orgy of personal financial potlach.  It was alright that our new Prime Minister Justin Troudeau’s wife Sophie was adorned with a Birk’s brooch costing $6000.  It was okay that this young swaggering Emperor Napoleon Troudeau had banished the picture of the rightful English monarch from Canadian parliament.  It was okay that as a couple they rejected the millions of dollar Sussex mansion until it had 10 million dollars of improvements.  I, as a Canadian wanted my betters to have a gold toilet seat to sit on while I lived in a trailer with baited breath waiting announcement of  next Liberal Largesse.
I really like my new wool coat. It’s not bespoke.  Shoppaholism is defined as feeling one coat is too many and no number is enough. But surely 2 coats is ’social shoppaholism’. And as I was sure I was able to convince myself that I was really ‘just doing research’ ,I took Laura into North Face where a $600 coat, perfectly made, was on sale for $300.It was really the saving I was spending, from shopping at Moore’s rather than Nordstrums .  My White Christmas for Laura bought by  Black Frida machination. , I know it sounds dubious but Laura was complicit. Indeed as she was with me through the whole ordeal it was her fault.  It was all her fault.  She does look pretty as a angel in her new coat but she’s really a little devil.
Without any body parts to see on Saturday, we headed here to Take Five Cafe for coffee. I suspect if I let  them other stores would take advantage of me . I have a  genetic diathesis to shopping and pressured by my despicable environmenl I might well participate further in this horrid western world debauchery.  I’m properly disgusted with myself.  I’m sure too that our new Emperor and his Wife Sophie feel badly jetsetting about the world to conferences on how to get us peasants to accept the new carbon based breathing and farting taxes. It’s a shame that they don’t know how to Skype and that their climate change conferences are the principal cause of global warming with all the jetsetting and hot air going on.  As Canadians, though,  we must never doubt the wisdom of our government or any further government taxation.
Look at me I just shamefully bought a new winter wool coat.  I bought one for Laura too. I expect our coats would cost more if we bought them at Value Village.  I love being Canadian even if the new Canadian 'privilege' tax comes through.  It's all worth it, somehow.

St. Petersburg, evening

I’ve just had dinner in an internet cafe.  Salad and a meat pie in a delicious cream sauce.  I walked around a bit today.  We’re flying to Ulyanovsk early tomorrow.  This was previously know as Simbirsk and was the birthplace of Lennin.  Barrett has family and friends there.  I’m going along for the ride.  On my own I would have only gone to Moscow and St. Petersburg.  It's all an adventure.
After the Peter and Paul Fortress Barrett headed off to be with friends. I ended back in the Kazan Cathedral. I bought an icon there. Mother and Child.  I’d meant to go the Russian Art Museum but found it closed when I got there. It was closed the other day we tried to go there too.  I found another icon, St. George. These icons come with official certificates . I found a silk scarf as well. The wind has been chilly.  I think it will work well as a motorcycling scarf too.  I stopped for coffee a couple of times. I blogged. It’s been raining cats and dogs and hippopotamus.  I am thankful for my umbrella and jacket.  I’m tired out from walking.  I got over by the Admirality Building searching for St. Peter on his horse.  I found him. I also found St. Isaac's Cathedral but passed on climbing the 262 steps of the Colonnade. The cathedral itself was closed.  On the way back I passed the Church of the Spilled Blood again.  I suspect the building I saw a clinic or hospital building too.
 

Bugis Square, Singapore

When I asked at the front desk of the Miramar Hotel, what tourists like to do in Singapore, twice now they've told me "Bugis Square".  It's apparently a favourite shopping place and hanging out place for Americans mostly.  
I awoke at 7 am, prayed and meditated, facing the east, wondering if facing the east is what one still does in the east.  Of course, it's where the sun arise and man has before all other gods, 'worshipped" the "Sun".  Thanks to Constantine, a Sun Worshipper himself, we got Sabbath as Sunday rather than the normal Saturday Sabbath of Israel.  I know at sea and in the wilderness, as close as man comes to our early ancestors, I love the sun's rising, as it dispels the night when beasts, like large cats, with their night adapted eyes, have advantage over man.
There's a Starbucks, where I'm sitting, across from a McDonald's here.  I took a double decker bus, #51 from my hotel on Havelock Road, to the new bridge road and eventually to Victoria Road.  There's a mixture of English names and Chinese and Malyasian names throughout the city. I first noticed this on the tram where English names like Lavender mixed with asian names like Xe. I would definitely benefit from a course simply in 'pronunciation' of asian words as my mind seems to shut off when it encountered odd spellings, simplifying it to a personalized 'pidgin' english that no one can comprehend.  However is X at the beginning of an Asian word pronounced?





I had wanted to people watch. The shops aren't open yet.  The women are generally so well dressed, poised, fashion conscious, heels, co-ordinated, slim.  There are occasional slobs, overweight, sloppy dressed, but they're fewer here than in the west.  The men are more likely to smoke. There's a proliferation of iPhones and samsung tab phones. Everyone, even walking, is busy inputting data with thumbs.  Earphones are the haute courture of the young running as high as several hundred dollars while starting at $5 or $10.  Not only does the latest version of phone and type distinguish but the ear phone accessory is a status definer.  The women seem to show a lot more attention to brand with each wearing or carrying something decidedly 'designer.'  It's probably just that this is a 'younger' culture.  We're older in the west and less affected by trends.


I've no real plans for today. The major tourist places I wanted to see I actually saw yesterday in a whirlwind of walking, The Riverwalk, the harbour, with Marina Bay, and the Sky Park of the Sands Hotel, then Chinatown and Changi Prison and Chapel. I even made mass at St. Andrews Anglican Cathedral.  Today my feet hurt.  I almost went for a swim at the Miramar Hotel but decided I'd rather be out on the street people watching.

I've just been talking with a couple from Africa. She's moslem by her dress and asked if she minded if her husband took a picture of her beside me. I've been taking pictures of people, perched her with my laptop, and Nikon, so I could hardly refuse.  I'd actually taken a picture of her earlier. She reminded me a bit of Whoopi Goldberg. She said her English was only a 'little bit'.  She told me she was taught high school and seemed to understand that I was a doctor.

This position is great for watching people but not so well concealed for surreptitious photography. I do miss my telephoto. I hope no one feels that I'm stealng their souls.  That caused a horrible row in Morocco when I was photographing there until I learned that it was a way to collect money from tourists.  I should have noticed that it was only the hustlers that seemed to take offence.  We're all on camera today. Even now a satellite may be passing over and photographing me now that the clouds have cleared away and we have a lovely blue sky.


I have a young woman patient who agreed to let a man photograph her nude. She's now concerned that these erotic pictures might be distributed.  That's naturally concern with indiscrete photography and the net.  I loved the name of the American politician who got caught sending less than conservative photos of himself to women, Mr. Weaner.  It's likely that this issue with 'modesty' or 'privacy' will evolve to something else with the next generation. Maybe we'll all be nudists. I can't see laws protecting individual 'image' in the market place.  Look at all the trouble that celebrities have gone to without success dealing with the paparazzi.  Certainly the various spy agencies aren't about to pay compensation for their intrusions  which they realistically justify on the basis of 'security'. The whole issue of 'facial recognition' software would be defeat by moslem face wear, mardi grass or the mollies of old.  What will follow then will be costume and easily applied fascial masks which will allow anonymity.  The Kings and Queens of old were noted for their various disquises to get away with dalliances and mingling with their subjects unnoted.  No doubt Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt have a tale or two of their use of disquise to move about without entourage.
Kinokuniya was a great English and Asian book store in the Bugis Square.

Walking about further I'd find out that Bugis Square is not just this lovely mall but across the street is the open air market which extends for blocks.

There are also other shopping malls though this was definitely the most uptown of all the ones I was in. 

Walmart

I'd not been to Walmart in a while. I'm pretty much a regular at London Drugs and Canadian Tire. I really like Safeway. I'm a big fan of the Bay and Sears. But I just don't get to Walmart that often.
Probably that's good. It's really easy to spend money at Walmart. Everything is priced low so why not get two instead of one. I've just bought two sets of flip flops and two shirts. In the entertainment section I got several $5 DVD's on sale and one reduced price Durango. It really was the best price I'd seen. There was the shampoo I bought even though I still have shampoo at home. It was on sale too. Really good price. I bought apples and cod and microwave vegetables. I don't know when I'll get around to eating them but I've got them. More dog food for Gilbert too. There was whole package of chocolate bars too.
I'd just thought to get a shirt. I mean that was my intent. I've not done the laundry and now it's going to be days before I get it back from the launderer so I thought I'd get a shirt. One shirt. I got shorts as well. I've got a load of shorts from last year but the shorts were beside the shirts and each was only $12. In Mexico they wanted $25 for the same shorts.
The bill at the cash register was a couple of hundred dollars. It kind of surprised me. But then these days bills always surprise me. Yet I had a shopping cart full of stuff and normally I'd have paid twice or three times what I paid. But I don't 'need' some of this stuff. It will get used but I still have to think, Walmart makes it way too easy to spend money.
The lady ahead of me had less than a half dozen items. I think if there's a shopper's heaven she's going there. Not me.
Walmart is to the shopaholic what Vegas is to the gambler. I must say, I love Walmart. Like Death by Chocolate. There are just some things that really do it well.


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