Caution

 

Who is that woman? Why - it's Beverly Macklin of course - the famous travel writer that nobody had ever heard of. Or is it?

Before we visited Egypt, I thought it would be helpful to purchase a guide book that dealt specifically with the stretch of The Nile between Luxor and Aswan. On Amazon Books, I thought I had struck lucky when I located "Nile River Cruise Travel Guide 2026" by Beverly Macklin. It was quite expensive for a thin volume - costing me £13 or $17US but I thought - what the hell - we'll only be in Egypt once and if the book helpfully informs our visit then it will be money well-spent.

And so the book arrived at our house. I read the 141 pages in two days and it was quite a pleasant publication to read. The style, like the typeface  was fluent and easy. However it kept repeating itself and what is  more it only gave me a broad brushstroke sense of what our Nile cruise might be like. There were no nitty gritty details about accessing ancient sites such as Edfu temple, particular things to look out for in The Valley of the Kings, potential issues with mosquitoes, the best places to buy souvenirs, cuisine highlights  - that sort of thing. In other words  the very kind of helpful information one would customarily find in a a guidebook worth its salt.

In "About the Author" at the front of the book it says, "Beverly Macklin is a travel writer, storyteller, and keen observer of culture, drawn to hidden paths and the untold stories that linger behind every winding road, quiet village and bustling street. With a deep respect for local traditions and an attentive eye for practical advice, Beverly creates travel guides that transcend mere itineraries - they invite readers into a journey of understanding, connection and shared curiosity."

But where was this "practical advice" and how come the great Beverly Macklin has left no other traces of her life within the world wide web?  

I am almost certain that "Nile River Cruise Travel Guide 2026" was created with the aid of A.I. and equally certain that I, along with many others, have been duped by "people" like "Beverly Macklin". The book was "Printed in the United States of America"  but no publishing house is mentioned. After the index, there's a very basic map of the Egyptian Nile but the trouble is - with my copy anyway - that that map is upside down!

But what about the picture of Beverly Macklin at the top of this blogpost?  It can be found in "her" Amazon author details. Out of curiosity, I ran a Google image search over it and discovered that this very same woman appears in several publications, websites  and nooks and crannies within the internet.

Here she is in the banner of a Brazilian  plastic surgery unit in Sao Paulo - Hospital de Olhos...

And here she is an an Arabic lifestyle  magazine where there was an acknowledgement that the picture had been taken from a well-known image library called "Freepix"...

The book is no longer available via Amazon but surprise, surprise there are several new books listed under the very same title - "Nile River Cruise Travel Guide 2026"- but by different "authors" such as the previously never known Harriet Binsky, Gladys Kirk, George Bartholomew and Noel P. Greene. All of these travel "writers" are as elusive as Beverly Macklin.

In short, it's all a scam so be warned my friends. I might become George Bartholomew myself and ask ChatGPT to create several 140 page travel guides about places as varied as Red Deer in Canada, Trelawnyd in Wales and Melbourne in Australia. They should all be  spewed out in five minutes flat thanks to A.I..

Recipe

 

Yorkshire Pudding Porridge

1. A couple of scoops of porridge oats in a large microwaveable

 bowl. Sprinkle a little salt in if desired.

2. Mix with boiling water and  milk - half and half.

3. Pop in the microwave for 4 mins. Stirring halfway through.

4. Banana in a bowl.

5. Crush the banana with a fork and add small helpings 

of chia seeds and milled flax seeds.

6. Pour in a little honey for extra sweetness.

7. Spoon cooked porridge over the other ingredients.

8. Combine with a fork or spoon.

9. Add a little extra milk.

⦿

Enjoy.

This recipe comes to you free of charge 

from the  Yorkshire Pudding Foundation 

for Nutrition and Healthy Eating.

Reliance

Just like you dear reader, there was a time when I lived without computers, without internet access, without my favourite websites. It was even a time before blogging came along to civilise the planet.

In those long ago days, how did we fill our time? I can hardly remember.

Anyway, that was then but this is now. Nowadays we seem to rely upon computer access for almost everything. It's where we read the news, watch videos, communicate with friends and family, go shopping, study reviews, find pictures, read maps, plan journeys, do banking, pay bills, blog and blog and blog  and find out about Pete Best. Pete Best - who was he you ask?

Randolph Peter Best (né Scanland; born 24 November 1941) is a British 

retired musician who was the drummer for the Beatles from 1960 to 1962. 

He was dismissed shortly before the band attained global fame and 

is one of several people referred to as a fifth Beatle.

I could have easily asked something else, anything else but Pete Best came to mind. What a story he might have had to tell if Ringo had never been born.

Sometimes it seems as if you can find out anything, everything via the internet and it has become an integral part of most people's lives.

Last night, I was tapping away here in the internet when I suddenly lost my wifi connection. There seemed to be no reason for this to happen. In fact I was in the middle of making my scathing blogpost about  G.I.Joe/Action Man Pete Hegseth. Perhaps Google had detected this and outed me like a bunch of ICE agents dragging a brown person from a building.

I felt a little lost such is my reliance upon this magical internet connection. It was not the first time it had happened but in the past some straightforward jiggerypokery upon the keyboard or with the router has quickly restored the connection.  However, this time round I was not able to get reconnected until earlier this evening when investigating the functionality of the little USB wireless adapter device that I have plugged in to one of the ports on my desktop computer.

For some unknown reason, this ingenious aid had malfunctioned but thankfully restoration was simple. What a delight and a relief it was to again see the tiny triangular internet connected symbol in the corner of my screen. The Great Yorkshire Pudding was back in the game! Whoo-hoo!

Synonyms of reliance are dependence, assurance, faith and trust. It is as if I have come to really need the internet in my life. Maybe you feel that too.  It has become our rock, our touchstone, our guide, our sounding board. I do not really like admitting this but without the internet we are utterly lost, floundering around in the darkness as we must have been before.

Truthed

America's current Secretary of War is a cartoon character who very much reminds me of Barbie's boyfriend Ken. The main difference is that Ken's plastic head had air in it but the current Secretary of War has testosterone mixed with ignorance in his skull.  Another difference is that Ken was a nice guy. He was never guilty of sexual misconduct, financial mismanagement nor excessive drinking. He was also devoted to Barbie when they went surfing or attended beach parties together. In contrast, the current Secretary of War has had three wives and various affairs.

This is what his own mother, Penny Hegseth, said about him in an e-mail back in  2018:-

You are an abuser of women — that is the ugly truth and I have no respect 

for any man that belittles, lies, cheats, sleeps around, and uses women 

for his own power and ego. You are that man (and have been for years).

You simply cannot imagine Ken's mother writing a similar e-mail about him.

Not only does GI Joe Hegseth delight in using hyperbolic tough guy  language that he has no doubt picked from all the war films he has whooped and salivated about, he also mangles English.

The other day, I noticed him using "truth"  as a verb as he referred to his lord and master's pronouncements  on the propaganda social media site  that was ironically titled Truth Social when it was petulantly established. Hegseth said that Emperor Trump had "truthed" this and also "truthed" that Not the familiar "tweeted" that we had all got used to via Twitter but "truthed"! I ask you.

It is a further irony that the bloated and increasingly demented old man in The White House rarely promotes or speaks the truth. He manipulates it and abuses it to his own narcissistic ends. When others speak inconvenient truths, his instinct is to shut them down or insult them. A more appropriate name for Truth Social would be "Loada Bollocks Social". After all what could be more disingenuous than posting an image of yourself as a modern day Jesus Christ - oh sorry, I meant a  doctor!

Triomphe

 

Cherry blossom does not last very long. Lengthening days and sunshine tempt it out of hiding and then it bursts triumphantly upon the urban scene like a bright firework fountain illuminating a coal-black November sky. All too soon it is gone - especially if there's a stiff wind or an April storm.

These first two pictures are of the cherry tree in our garden. It has put on quite a show this year - the best I can remember. But if we are rewarded with a bumper summer cherry crop then I expect that the birds will get to the fruit first. That's usually the case - with wood pigeons being the main greedy culprits. Pigeon pie anyone?

Last night I attended another pub quiz at "The Robin Hood" with the two Michaels who have been my quiz buddies for a quarter of a century. We have won many quizzes but never before had we achieved a perfect score of 25/25. Many 24s and 23s but never before a 25 until last night. Everything came together nicely. Mick knew that Tom Jones sang the theme song for the 007 film "Thunderball". Mike worked out the anagram - "HYACINTH BUCKET" and for some odd reason I knew that Taylor Swift's current single honours the English film actress - Elizabeth Taylor.

They call it team work and the three of us  floated home on cloud nine.

Also - yesterday afternoon...Who is that mean-looking dude who has just completed the Paris Marathon with  58,852 other runners? There he is on the Champs Elysees with his medal and The Arc de Triomphe behind him.

Why - I do declare - it is our lovely son Ian. Riding aboard the Eurostar train, he was back in his west London flat by 6.30 pm - already planning another foreign marathon in Seville, Spain next February. By the way, he has run much longer distances that a mere 26.2 miles. As I said to him over the telephone, I would feel I had really achieved something simply by walking a marathon distance  in one day with a midday stop for a sandwich and homegrown cherries.

We are very proud of him and he proves that there are tough  vegans around.  A plant-based diet does not have to be a handicap when it comes sport - or in his case running. Is that a sport or a pastime?

I expect that most American visitors to this blog will already know that the massive new triumphal arch planned for Washington D.C. has largely been inspired by Paris's Arc de Triomphe. Of course, The Orange Tyrant insists that America's arch will be bigger and better than all the rest - just like The Golden Ballroom  which is rising from the unfortunate ruins of The East Wing of The White House like a phoenix... or maybe a dodo... or a big fat wood pigeon that has been feasting on stolen cherries.  One name mooted for the crass new addition to the Washington cityscape is The Epstein Files Distraction Arch.

Disappointment

At 1.30pm all seemed hopeful as I marched along Psalter Lane in spring sunshine. At the roundabout, I turned down Sharrow Lane, then across busy London Road and on to Woodhead Road where my son Ian once owned a terraced house. Ahead of me, I could see my destination - Bramall Lane football stadium - the home of Sheffield United F.C.. This famous old ground loomed in red and white livery - the same colours as The Blades' team shirts.

Usually, when I go to see my beloved team - The Tigers of Hull City - I have to travel by car or train. It's sixty miles from Sheffield to Hull. However, yesterday I could walk to the game. Just 2.3 miles from our front door. A welcome change.

On the corner, a young woman was selling football programmes. I handed her a tenner and then the fiver in my change blew out of her hand and I had to chase it. We both laughed about that but perhaps it was an omen.

Outside turnstiles 16 to 23 there was a tedious security operation taking place - specially devised for visiting fans. The queue moved terribly slowly and some fans suffered the indignity of body searches. Fortunately, they did not pick on me. After all, 72 year old lifelong supporters rarely turn up for away matches with flares and house bricks. All of the security personnel were in bright yellow day-glow jackets and two of them had barking dogs on leashes. Another hound was a sniffer dog. He did not pick up any suspicious smells from me probably because I was wearing  Salle de Bain by "Old Man".

I scanned the barcode on my ticket and proceeded through the turnstile. Up two short staircases and I was in the cavernous Bramall Lane stand concourse, below the seating. It was packed with Hull City fans in black and amber - my tribe. A scrum of two hundred or so lairy youths were chanting in unison taking it in turns to crowd surf. It was quite hard to get through them.

Finally, I reached my assigned seat - at the far end of a row and partly for that reason I was very happy with it. Before kick off, I sat and read my programme and ate a satsuma.

For some unknown reason, visiting fans have developed the habit of standing up throughout the playing time and so it was yesterday. Quite irritating really when you would otherwise be sitting down on the seat you have paid for. I watched Oli McBurnie score Hull City's opening goal after four minutes - down at the other end of the pitch. It was a fast moving, flowing game with The Tigers clearly on top. 

In the second half we remained in the ascendency until our battling midfielder  - John Lundstram - received a second yellow card and was therefore sent off. That's when the game turned.

United won a dubious penalty and then with two minutes to go, they scored the winner.  City had spurned several good chances but it wasn't to be. Time ran out.

Ten minutes later, I stood at the bus stop at the bottom of  Ecclesall Road feeling blue and dejected as I waited for the 81 bus home. I admit that after all these years it is pretty insane that the result of a football match can affect my mood for the rest of the weekend. As they say - it's just a game but it never quite feels that way to me. Maybe I am in for more agony when I attend next week's home match against Birmingham City. In the meantime, all I can say is - Up The Tigers!

Deodorant

 

I am sure you have heard of  "Old Spice" for men. The range includes aftershave, shaving cream, soap and deodorant. They are products that  go way back in time and are mostly favoured by the older generation

Old men like me, Andrew in Melbourne, Red in Alberta and Cro Magnon in Brighton really do not want body products that are aimed at the younger generation. We actively spurn "Lynx" and Jean-Paul Gautier. What we need is sprays and roll-ons that are specifically tailored for the senior male market.

This is why I decided to invest all my pension lump sum in a new start up business that aims to fill this potentially profitable gap in the market. Rather than getting cunning and creative with fancy brand names, the company intend to call all of their products quite simply - "Old Man". There's no deception in such a name.

Parisian perfumers have skilfully concocted four possible deodorant fragrances for the "Old Man" deodorant range and I suspect that they will prove really popular with the over sixties. It's nice to have choices...

1) "Granddad" - Pipe tobacco, halitosis and "Dettol"

2) "Care Home" - Stale urine, armpits and smelly socks

3) "Salle de Bain" - Lingering farts  mingling with  medicated soap.

4) "Rose and Crown" - the authentic odour of a traditional pub with 

hints of stale beer, cigarette smoke and sports changing rooms.

If the "Old Man" range sells well - as it is surely bound to do - then the company hope to create  similar products for the fairer sex called "Old Woman" but as yet no fragrances have been devised. Perhaps you can think of some suitable combinations.