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Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Three Good Reports on Alcohol's Benefits; Flu and Heart Trouble; and the Deadly Dangers of Imodium

It is well that I had nothing planned for today ─ the night's sleep that I 'enjoyed' would have precluded fulfilling any projects outside of the house.

After retiring for the night within an hour of it becoming midnight (I forget the actual time), my first break in sleep that had me sufficiently awake to check the time was 3:03 a.m., so I rose and used the bathroom.

At returning to bed, my limited and haphazard thought process started congealing into conscious progressions, and soon it was apparent that I was too mentally active to make a return to sleep.

So at 3:33 a.m. I rose to turn on and log into my computer, and kill some time there until I  heard my younger brother Mark rise for work ─ just ahead of 4:00 a.m. it was.

I returned to bed at 4:03 a.m. to await his departure around 5:00 a.m. ─ or to fall back asleep, if that was to happen for me.

It did not.

I never heard him exit the house and lock the front door, but I did hear a vehicle door get closed, and then the vehicle drove off.

It was right around 5:00 a.m., so I rose and opened my bedroom door to verify that all was in darkness downstairs, and it was.

I was soon enough at work upon the post I am constructing at Amatsu Okiya, one of my six hosted websites. It probably is huge enough now that I could cease working on it and get it published, for I put in 1½ mornings' worth of curated content to match yesterday's effort.

And that meant that in the past four mornings, I have actually compiled the work of six regular mornings. 

But I will continue with it for at least tomorrow morning.

Anyway, my eldest stepson Tho seemed to have slept in. He never actually rose until I played a YouTube music video ─ his bed is directly beneath the small bedroom where I have my computer in the upstairs.

That was deliberate on my part, incidentally.

It was 6:54 a.m. when at last he headed out the front door to drive himself to work in his mother's car (she is presently on a seven-week holiday to Thailand to visit her mother).

Normally Tho would have left anywhere from 30 to 50 minutes earlier.

His younger brother Poté remained in bed until after mid-morning.

After I had finished the work I managed to put in on the Amatsu Okiya post, I dallied here in nonsense for some while at my computer; and then shortly after 10:00 a.m. I returned to bed to try and nap while fully dressed and without the benefit of earplugs.

For some weeks now, there have been two small packages that we have been expecting to be delivered, and I am unsure if both will just be left in our mail receptacle outside, or if whoever makes the deliveries will perhaps require a signature or otherwise feel the need to place the item within the security of the hands of a house occupant.

So I wanted to be prepared to swiftly rise and make my way downstairs to the door if I  heard the doorbell.

Unfortunately, submersion into a nap proved extremely difficult, although I certainly verged on it. I must have been abed for maybe an hour before getting up in discomfort, with eyes burning from want of sleep.

Poté was still home.

I boiled a couple of eggs for inclusion in a later meal, and then I saw little option but to return to bed and properly try to nap.

That meant undressing and also using earplugs with a blindfold.

This time I did get a certain nap in, and was again probably in bed for an hour or so.

I found Poté to be gone. Initially, though, I had a bit of a scare ─ I saw through my bedroom window that there was a white car parked street-side, and it resembles that of his girlfriend.

Were the pair here and already in bed together, as happens too bloody often?

So I ventured downstairs and checked the carport ─ Poté's car was gone. Either the white car belongs to someone else; or else the two drove off in his car.

Since they are both co-workers in the same sports shop, perhaps they have the same afternoon shift today and so they went to work in his car; and of course, he will be bringing her back here later today.

A check also revealed that the mail had come, and one of the small packages was finally delivered ─ apparently not requiring any direct contact with a household resident from the deliverer.

This particular item is one that my wife Jack had hoped would arrive before she left for Thailand ─ but she left over a month ago. I'm not exactly sure what the item is, but it may just be a memory card for her digital camera.

But I see that it was shipped from "Deyund Vakind Technology" located in Changshang, Hunan, China. I expect that this is the same city identified by Wikipedia as Changsha.

Why on Earth would Jack order from so darned far away when Amazon or even Staples would have had the item here before she left? Staples sometimes delivers the following day, for we live near one outlet that's about 1¼ miles or so away.

Oh, well ─ just one more package to be delivered. And this one is coming from Amazon (U.S.).

I see that I am running very late with this post ─ it is already 5:20 p.m. I must hasten.

Quite recently I recollect at least one article that I noticed which claimed that a study had determined that alcohol was best avoided, and that there was no justification for health-based consumption.

I suspect that this following article by a medical (and also a philosophical) doctor is likely referring to the same study, and herewith debunking its conclusions:


There is another study ─ this time concerning influenza, and the supposed value of getting vaccinated against it ─ that apparently is also perched upon very suspect science:


Here is an article critiquing that same weak study:


That last website also has a report about the over-the-counter diarrhea medication loperamide, which is sold as Imodium (and is also present in other medications).

Were you aware that people have died from taking Imodium?


The article had the following as a reference, but it did not provide a link to that source:


Okay, now some photos!

As I said earlier, my wife Jack is over in Thailand. On most days, she posts something ─ photos, and a rare video ─ to her Facebook account. 

I make a daily check and select any photos I rather like.

Today, she included three old photos of her father. He died when Jack was a young teen, or maybe even a pre-teen.

I don't know too much about him, but I recall that she said that he had driven a truck on behalf of the U.S. military when it was involved in the Vietnam War ─ the States had a military base called Camp Ramasun (7th Radio Research Field Station / Ramasun Station) right alongside her village of Nong Soong, which is maybe a 15-minute drive from the city of Udon Thani.

I daresay that at least one of the following photos likely relates to that time:

Jack must have photographed the original photos with her cellphone, and then uploaded the results to Facebook. She titled her Facebook post simply as "My handsome father."

The man died fairly young ─ I understand that a heart-attack or something claimed him one night while he was in bed sleeping beside his wife (Jack's poor mother).

I also collected these three photos of Jack that must have been taken in one of the shopping complexes in Udon Thani itself:

And there are these two photos that may have been taken in a nightclub or similar venue:

I never met anyone in those latter photos with Jack except for the chap at the right in the final photo ─ his nickname is Jak, and he has been a friend of my Jack since she was probably still a schoolgirl.

I am closing today's post now with this old journal entry of mine from 41 years ago when I was 27 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting in a private home located on Ninth Street, and two houses up from Third Avenue.

The previous day's journal entry had said that I was leaving my room at 9:45 a.m. to hike out to the duplex unit that my younger brother Mark was renting in Surrey ─ the duplex was a reasonably short distance down Semiahmoo Road from where it attaches to Old Yale Road.

Evidently I spent the night at his home.
SUNDAY, February 13, 1977

I got home about 5:45 a.m., meeting with a pretty drunk Mark at the top of the Old Yale Rd. hill.

Al & Marie [Varga] had been to Mark's the early afternoon before, and I guess Al figured he had me committed to going drinking later at night.

But I stayed at Mark's.

I was very wet when I arrived at his place yesterday.

I'd sure like to get out of going partying next Friday. 

I've decided to try and get janitor work in partnership with dad, moving in together close to the job as soon as possible. The job could then be under my name, and dad could thus continue to receive his [partial disability] pensions, allowing us to live quite well.

While sleeping during the night at Mark's, I dreamed I had a small Western Express Lottery win. 

Perhaps 6 - 8 weeks ago, Bill [my old friend William Alan Gill] dreamed I won a lottery, then some weeks later so did Mark. Accurate augers? I hope so!

I'm going to try for further sleep here at 6:30 a.m.


I awoke around 9:00 a.m.

I'm going to mail a try for a drive-in theatre janitor work ad, which perhaps dad & I could handle, even though it is in Richmond somewhere.

While on my way to Mark's I shall stop at International Meats.
I had begun visiting Mark's duplex unit with amazing regularity for at least the past few months.

I don't recall just where International Meats was located, but it was along Scott Road after crossing over the Pattullo Bridge, and well toward the base of the Scott Road hill taking drivers out of the flats.  

Mark apparently overnighted someplace else other than his own residence, so I had slept there before hiking back to my room in New Westminster early in the morning. If I met him coming home at the top of the Old Yale Road hill, then it would have been right close by the 128th Street and 108th Avenue intersection

As seen at that Google map, my route would have taken me to the left (downhill) until I reached a set of railway tracks; and then I would have turned right onto them, and followed them to Scott Road fairly near to the Pattullo Bridge.

I was a renowned walker where my family and friends were concerned.

Al and Marie Varga had an apartment in New Westminster. I suppose Al expected me to be returning to my room the previous evening, but I never did.

That is so darned interesting that three people (me among them) dreamed of me winning a lottery, yet I never did. To this very day, it is my desperate hope to win big before I die. 
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