I was a Lieutenant in the Air Force, and my Senior NCO wrangled an invitation for us to tour an aircraft carrier stationed at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. I remember us going below and seeing the tiny, enlisted cabins where "hot bunking" meant that three sailors shared the same bunk: one occupant was on the day shift, one was on the swing shift and one was on the midnight shift. We also got to see a Chief's cabin. In one hold of the ship, we saw a yacht that the Captain owned. We toured topside and I was amazed at the tailhook apparatus that stopped a plane when landing.
I have mixed feelings about Antwerp, Belgium. On the one hand, I liked living in a 15th-century apartment that used to be a salt warehouse in the former slaughterhouse area (where the gutters ran with blood.) I likeD living across from the Zwaaterzusters (Black Sisters)!convent and St. Paul's Church. Loved being walking distance from the 15th-century Grote Markt, the Cathedral of Our Lady, Peter Paul Ruben's home, and so much more (such as great beer and easy access to Germany, Paris, Amsterdam, and London). But on the other hand, there are no trees. Trees are sacrificed for parking lots. Trees, please. Austeblifje.
Having lived in Brussels, and visited Antwerp often, I am jealous of your privilege! I liked it much better than Brussels, but I’ll let Gene decide if the reasons are interesting or not. 😉
I would say other than several less than salubrious venues selected by my Uncle Sam, living in my head has often been fraught down through the years. Fortunately some urbane renewal occured at the right time, although I'm still waiting for my mental rezoning petition to be approved.
Oddly enough, the worst place I ever lived was in Florida! And it was partly because of bugs! I lived for three or four miserable months (in 1965) in the town of Cape Canaveral. I worked at Cape Kennedy and had an apartment close to work and one block from the beach. Sound idyllic? Here's what it was like: everyone else who lived there ALSO worked at Cape Kennedy. If I went out to dinner or to a nightclub, I saw my co-workers. There was nothing else around there at the time BUT Cape Kennedy. Oh, excuse me - there were bugs. Plenty of them, enough that the town government would send trucks around one evening each week to spray vast quantities of insecticide into the air. The main result of this was that the next morning, I would awaken to find my apartment floor littered with dead bug carcasses. In every room. Later, I'd leave for work and the smell of the insecticide would still linger in the air but I'd be bitten by mosquitos on my way to the car. After a few months, I'd had enough and returned North, where I belonged. I heard the mosquitoes laughing gleefully, celebrating their victory, as I drove away.
WHY ARE YOU SENDING THIS TO COMMENTS, and not the button where it will get a reaction, other than this one, which is WHY ARE YOU SENDING IT TO COMMENTS?
Thank you for your restraint. I don't get edited much (though I could usually stand to be at least proofread), but most of the writing that comes to me badly needs editing--especially when people compose on their phones.
On my computer, I do. Because I have nine separate google accounts, and it makes me pick one or else log out of all of them, which wreaks havoc with several software programs I run.
Oddly enough, the worst place I ever lived was in Florida! And it was partly because of bugs! I lived for three or four miserable months (in 1965) in the town of Cape Canaveral. I worked at Cape Kennedy and had an apartment close to work and one block from the beach. Sound idyllic? Here's what it was like: everyone else who lived there ALSO worked at Cape Kennedy. If I went out to dinner or to a nightclub, I saw my co-workers. There was nothing else around there at the time BUT Cape Kennedy. Oh, excuse me - there were bugs. Plenty of them, enough that the town government would send trucks around one evening each week to spray vast quantities of insecticide into the air. The main result of this was that the next morning, I would awaken to find my apartment floor littered with dead bug carcasses. In every room. Later, I'd leave for work and the smell of the insecticide would still linger in the air but I'd be bitten by mosquitos on my way to the car. After a few months, I'd had enough and returned North, where I belonged. I heard the mosquitoes laughing gleefully, celebrating their victory, as I drove away.
I went to New Orleans for college, and although I absolutely love the city, I could never get used to not having seasons. I would wait and wait for it to get cool, which it did, for a week in January, accompanied by torrential downpours.
I've lived in places I was miserable, but it had nothing to do with the place. I think I've been happy with most of the places I've lived (10 so far, but some of them at such an early age that I don't remember them). Probably worst was the four years in suburban Mobile before moving to Fairhope.
U.S. Navy aircraft carrier. Early 1970s. Living in a floating metal box beneath an airport runway, with 5000 people.
Of course, that beat rice paddies by miles.
WHY ARE YOU SENDING THIS TO COMMENTS? Resend to the button with more deets.
Sorry, dood. PLACES link goes to 'Gotta question....'
Now, it's there.
I was a Lieutenant in the Air Force, and my Senior NCO wrangled an invitation for us to tour an aircraft carrier stationed at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. I remember us going below and seeing the tiny, enlisted cabins where "hot bunking" meant that three sailors shared the same bunk: one occupant was on the day shift, one was on the swing shift and one was on the midnight shift. We also got to see a Chief's cabin. In one hold of the ship, we saw a yacht that the Captain owned. We toured topside and I was amazed at the tailhook apparatus that stopped a plane when landing.
I have mixed feelings about Antwerp, Belgium. On the one hand, I liked living in a 15th-century apartment that used to be a salt warehouse in the former slaughterhouse area (where the gutters ran with blood.) I likeD living across from the Zwaaterzusters (Black Sisters)!convent and St. Paul's Church. Loved being walking distance from the 15th-century Grote Markt, the Cathedral of Our Lady, Peter Paul Ruben's home, and so much more (such as great beer and easy access to Germany, Paris, Amsterdam, and London). But on the other hand, there are no trees. Trees are sacrificed for parking lots. Trees, please. Austeblifje.
Having lived in Brussels, and visited Antwerp often, I am jealous of your privilege! I liked it much better than Brussels, but I’ll let Gene decide if the reasons are interesting or not. 😉
You never know with that Gene! Brussels is beautiful.
I would say other than several less than salubrious venues selected by my Uncle Sam, living in my head has often been fraught down through the years. Fortunately some urbane renewal occured at the right time, although I'm still waiting for my mental rezoning petition to be approved.
Oddly enough, the worst place I ever lived was in Florida! And it was partly because of bugs! I lived for three or four miserable months (in 1965) in the town of Cape Canaveral. I worked at Cape Kennedy and had an apartment close to work and one block from the beach. Sound idyllic? Here's what it was like: everyone else who lived there ALSO worked at Cape Kennedy. If I went out to dinner or to a nightclub, I saw my co-workers. There was nothing else around there at the time BUT Cape Kennedy. Oh, excuse me - there were bugs. Plenty of them, enough that the town government would send trucks around one evening each week to spray vast quantities of insecticide into the air. The main result of this was that the next morning, I would awaken to find my apartment floor littered with dead bug carcasses. In every room. Later, I'd leave for work and the smell of the insecticide would still linger in the air but I'd be bitten by mosquitos on my way to the car. After a few months, I'd had enough and returned North, where I belonged. I heard the mosquitoes laughing gleefully, celebrating their victory, as I drove away.
WHY ARE YOU SENDING THIS TO COMMENTS, and not the button where it will get a reaction, other than this one, which is WHY ARE YOU SENDING IT TO COMMENTS?
Because comments are all posted. If we use the Big Orange Button, you filter what is posted.
That is correct. In my experience, the very best writers appreciate editing, however, and want reactions that amplify their writing. But understood.
In my experience as a copy editor, all writers need copy editing, including those who edit others' writing.
I agree! Wrote that just the other day. Please be advised I have the power to have inserted a grammatical error into your comment, but didn't!
Thank you for your restraint. I don't get edited much (though I could usually stand to be at least proofread), but most of the writing that comes to me badly needs editing--especially when people compose on their phones.
While you normally wear your crown lightly, I seem to recall the last time you attempted to insert a dangling modifier you were reported.
'cuz the big orange button goes to log into google forms... and just, No.
I'm almost never that motivated.
YES. I have mentioned this several times, and gotten nothing. I will not log into google forms to post a comment on a public board.
You don’t have to log in.
On my computer, I do. Because I have nine separate google accounts, and it makes me pick one or else log out of all of them, which wreaks havoc with several software programs I run.
David Shombert
12 mins ago
Oddly enough, the worst place I ever lived was in Florida! And it was partly because of bugs! I lived for three or four miserable months (in 1965) in the town of Cape Canaveral. I worked at Cape Kennedy and had an apartment close to work and one block from the beach. Sound idyllic? Here's what it was like: everyone else who lived there ALSO worked at Cape Kennedy. If I went out to dinner or to a nightclub, I saw my co-workers. There was nothing else around there at the time BUT Cape Kennedy. Oh, excuse me - there were bugs. Plenty of them, enough that the town government would send trucks around one evening each week to spray vast quantities of insecticide into the air. The main result of this was that the next morning, I would awaken to find my apartment floor littered with dead bug carcasses. In every room. Later, I'd leave for work and the smell of the insecticide would still linger in the air but I'd be bitten by mosquitos on my way to the car. After a few months, I'd had enough and returned North, where I belonged. I heard the mosquitoes laughing gleefully, celebrating their victory, as I drove away.
I went to New Orleans for college, and although I absolutely love the city, I could never get used to not having seasons. I would wait and wait for it to get cool, which it did, for a week in January, accompanied by torrential downpours.
I've lived in places I was miserable, but it had nothing to do with the place. I think I've been happy with most of the places I've lived (10 so far, but some of them at such an early age that I don't remember them). Probably worst was the four years in suburban Mobile before moving to Fairhope.