As a fellow island dweller from Britain living in America I love your stories, many I have experienced.
I offer a true story and I humbly attempt to honor your elegant style.
Half a world from Britain and Japan. An airport. Security line at dawn.
I was traveling. "Just get through the checkpoint," they said. Simple words. My British soul prepared for war.
Because I understood instantly what this was. A test of civilization. Every traveler, a lone samurai in the chaos, queue forming like fragile honor. And honor is tested. Honor is measured. To push forward like a barbarian is to lose face before strangers, possibly forever.
So I prepared. I stood like a statue, back straight, eyes forward, braced for the slow grind of the line.
The first wave came. A crowd surged. Elbows, impatient sighs, the shuffling of tired feet. A Japanese businessman stood calm beside me, suit perfect, expression serene, yet step by step the tide was carrying him backward. He accepted it with the grace of one who has seen many battles.
I studied the line like a battlefield map. The pushers: aggressive, short-term thinkers, dishonorable tactics.
The quiet ones: defensive, old-world patience. And then the pressure built again, and I felt it — that ancient British reflex, the same one that built queues across empires.
Enough.
I stepped forward like a man drawing a sword in the mist. Voice calm but carrying, I told the surge to stop.
"Back of the line, please." The words landed. The pushing paused. Faces turned.
I looked at the Japanese gentleman. Bowed my head once, the smallest motion of respect. He returned it — perfect, precise, full of quiet understanding. No words needed. Two islands recognizing each other across the chaos of the world.
In that moment, the line reformed. He moved forward. I followed. Small victory. But a victory.
We are not so different, perhaps. The quiet ones. The ones who still believe the line is sacred. The ones who recognize honor when it stands next to them in cheap airport lighting.
So tell me, Japan.
Is there a system to these small battles of civilization? A secret code? A hidden law?
I have decided there is.
You simply hold the line you believe in. Sometimes a stranger from another island sees it too. And for one brief moment in an airport, everybody wins.
It is the most beautiful way to hold a tiny war.
I will stand in every single one.
The older generation new so much. This reminds me of a conversation with my Grandfather almost 50 years ago. He was a boxer in England in the 1920’s. He said the best food to get strong and lean was sardines on wholewheat toast and raw eggs in a glass of milk and he still ate that regularly.
Outcome was great, but I burned through 11% of my Premium+ monthly Grok usage in 2 hours. I setup a replica of an environment and new repo I was working on with Claude, asked Grok to read and convert the instructions which were setup for efficiency and started iterating. I have two setups now and I'll start working on improving efficient usage.
Enjoy. I’m from there and used to be a season ticket holder. I moved to the US in 2015 but go to 1 or 2 games a year. Have a burger and fries with fried onions from a street vendor, queue for a beer at The Trafford, buy some memorabilia from the club store but also from the street vendors they have cool stuff.
All football has become corrupt. They started to change the rules from simple to subjective and then introduced VAR. it’s corrupt. When a player is offside even if he doesn’t receive the pass, he interferes in that he changes what a defender does, now they can make up bullshit excuses to fix the game.
@tengyanAI I’m 54 and this explains what is happening to me perfectly. I’m using AI agents as powerful tools for the first time, drawing on my experience and methodology learned over time but at much greater speed and driving to highest quality I can achieve.
I remember talking to him maybe it was 1991 in the UK. I was at a company who printed his book Calculus book. The equations were too long and awkward to auto paginate so I was doing it with a light board and mounting the photographic print outs and slicing it with a scalpel. He said to me my work was an art form, how I made everything split and land correctly page by page. I thanked him explained my method and said I left school at 16 and I’ve been reading this while I work and it’s so clear I think I understand it. He shook my hand and gave me a warm thanks.
@RynoJvVuuren I found it harder to make close friends at first but they happen in time. 1st was a fellow Brit, 2nd a South African, 3rd an American, Indian, Irish all sharing the American dream and now many more Americans.
Nailed it again. When I was doing my MBA in the evenings to help my executive transfer visa application a majority of the cohort were on that path working for some kind of government quango and I liked them but they were all about the paper looking academic enough and not about its real impact on business.
@theiaincameron Interesting - there’s a place in Yorkshire called Glaisdale which most believe has Brythonic and Norse - Glais (blue grey like your Glasgow post) and Dale/Dalr from Norse meaning valley.
I learned early after coming to America in my first year to be very careful with healthcare. I’d been here a year, barely had any visits and had used almost nothing of my deductible- late in December I needed an MRI for a herniated disc, with insurance I’d owe $1200 as my part and without insurance it was $600.
@CarmichaelDave Glad you’ve discovered it! Being a Huddersfield lad my cupboards here in New Jersey always have a stockpile of Colmans, HP and Yorkshire Tea