I'm alive.
But a friend of mine's mother died today.
Posts archive for: April, 2008
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living in the present, dying at half past three?
@ 2008-04-30 – 08:37:07
No. I don't have an incurable disease - unless it's lurking undiagnosed. Allegedly my heart's in good nick, and I have no plans to hang glide this afternoon, or o.d. on tri-depressipan.
But why run the risk?
Imagine your second-to-last thought being a worry about not paying the electricity bill?
Today I'm going to attempt the impossible and live in the present, untense.
Live the day as if it's my last....
(so far it isn't working 100%. still, at least I can leave the need for filing to my executors)
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File under Procrastination
@ 2008-04-29 – 14:01:59
Meanwhile, I'm staring straight ahead of me at the screen, determined not to steal even a nana-glance at the piles of paper that surround the laptop on my desk.
To be candid, "piles of paper" is too - formal a phrase to describe what lies just beyond the periphery of my vision. Invoices slide off the high slopes, probably useless guarantees adorn the summit. This year's blank tax return hides something which could or could not be an invitation to my second cousin's wedding.
Two months of stuff to be filed, a lot in the waste basket. It won't take long, and then I'll feel so good about myself... so good... perhaps I'll lie down for half an hour to think about it... then there's the kitchen floor to wash... and... and... and another post to blog.... and... I'm pretty sure there'll be no time for filing today.
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ignore this post and accept my apologies
@ 2008-04-29 – 11:12:30
I switched from T-Mobile two months ago. For the second time they have sent me a demand for an overdue balance of £33.21.
"For service to be restored, please pay the amount in full stated at the top of this letter."
Of course, I don't want the service restored. (Actually, in a better, contract free world I probably would as O2 sucks, but that's another matter).
The letter continues;
"If you do not pay.... your account will be passed to a Debt Collection Agency" (aka Gangster Thugs, fronted by a Call Centre with profits creamed off by a smooth solicitor). "Blah, blah, etc blah."I'm sure I don't owe T-Mobile money. But the last thing I want is a bad credit rating...
Then a second sheet of paper falls out of the envelope;
"ignore this letter and accept our apologies.
Yours sincerely,
Customer Finance"
In the future, when Capital Punishment has been restored, and computers administer all justice, when you receive a letter telling you that you will hang tomorrow... before panicking, just shake the envelope to make sure an erratum slip isn't lurking in there - "ignore this letter... with best wishes from the Public Executioner."
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memory imagined?
@ 2008-04-28 – 22:39:00
Durng my nightly phone call to my mother, I asked her if she remembered me reading the book about the ship on fire mentioned in the post below.
She didn't. "It's not like me to let you read a book like that," my mother says, "given how much I run a mile from anything violent."
It's true. She's an avid news freak - but any mention of war, earthquakes, refugee camps, starvation and she's channel hopping away, even to the snooker which she abomnates. And she's always been like that - metaphorically hiding behind the sofa.
So why wouldn't she, all those years ago, been my sympathetic when I read about a ship in flames at see - probably accompanied by an Illustration?
Perhaps I made the story up, or dreamt it. (I find this thought disturbing)
"What made you start thinking about this?" my mother asks, sounding almost alarmed. "Are you thinking of writing your autobiography?"
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no comfort from the fire
@ 2008-04-28 – 20:55:47
I must have been six. I had been given an adventure story book with colour illustrations. I learnt to read late, and I liked to involve my mother in the reading process as much as possible - although she was usually too busy and didn't believe in 'spoiling' me.
Anyway, the day I'm remembering I was sprawled on the floor reading on my own. It was quite hard going reading much at a time on my own. The previous night, while she put me to bed, I'd told the Dutch au pair the exciting story - and maybe or maybe not let slip I was bit frightened about the picture I'd peaked at on the next page. Or perhaps there was no picture - I imagined it from the words I read the next day.
Because, that afternoon I read in the book about a fire at sea. Everyone had to abandon ship.
I freaked with fear. I can truly remember the pit in my stomach, which has never felt as huge in all the years since. I felt dizzy, I was terrified.
My mother didn't seem to notice.
After a while, I went over to her, frankly hoping for some comfort, an assurance that the story would have happy ending, something like that. Most of all I wanted a cuddle. "I'm not going to finish that book" I told my mum, trying to explain how frightened I felt..
"I'm sure when you grow up, Alec." As far as I could tell, my mother saw the chief objective of childhood was to be no longer a child. "When you grow up a bit you will be able to fiinsh the story and appreciate it more."
Sixty years later, my throat still tightens when I remember that burning ship, imagine the sailors jumping...
Perhaps I have yet to grow up
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£ov€ in a for€ign £anguag€
@ 2008-04-27 – 23:31:34
A romantic dinner for two. They have reached the point in the meal when normally he would order a second bottle of champagne, but this evening he feels uneasy, upset. To be honest, a little angry as well.
She squeezes his hands across the table. "Of course I love you darling," she says. He can barely see her eyes through the flame of the candle. "That's what you pay me for." -
Miss Daisy Driving
@ 2008-04-27 – 18:05:50
My mother, ninety two and three-quarters, frail in body but less so in mind and willpower, wants to start driving again, "now I am getting better".
However, this doesn't mean she intends to come to see me in Brighton, or even drive to her weekly appointment with the hairdressers in a nearby town. She recoginises some of her limitations.
All she wants is drive to the Catholic Church round the corner from where she lives. So, she would hobble, a the 15 metres to her Fiesta in the car park, drive 200 metres to the Church car park, hobble a further 20 metres - and then back again after mass. Probably she would take Maria with her to assist wit the walking.
It would make her feel in control of a bit of her life again. Maybe we should let her do it...
Except that, on the short journey back she would have to negotiate a sharp, blind right turn on a sharp bend left.. It's notoriously dangerous. Of course my mother has turned right there so often, she could practically do it in her sleep...
As it were.
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Mea Culpa! I have stolen this post
@ 2008-04-26 – 08:24:16
Poland's 28,000 Roman Catholic priests have been told by church authorities that they may be fined if they are discovered to have plagiarised their sermons from the internet, and could even face up to three years in prison.
The church has published a self-help book on writing sermons to lure parish priests away from the growing habit of stealing the words of their fellow clergy.
Father Wieslaw Przyczyna, the co-author of To Plagiarise or not to Plagiarise, told Polish media that the guide had been written to address what had become an increasingly common problem, as more churches put their sermons online and an increasing numbers of priests used the internet.
Przyczyna, a sermon expert at Krakow's Pontifical Academy of Theology, added that the book's aim was to shame culprits and prompt them to confess what they had done.
I confess I stole this story and words from today's Guardian.
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ode/ur 3
@ 2008-04-25 – 15:02:09
He came, he bullshitted.
He'll "definitely" start work next week...
Or maybe the week after
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Ode(ur?) to a Carpenter
@ 2008-04-25 – 10:43:21
The carpenter tells me he'll come round today.
But can I believe a word he say
s?
The carpeter claims he'll come at half past one,
But is he just having sadistic fun,
Playing with his arsehole promises?
Imagine 37 more verses of this scanless dirge to convey my frustration, scepticism - as well as a precipitate decline in my creative powers.Ideally this <<song>> should be accompanied by an unrythmic, low-kicking dance involving dead lightbulbs, shards of expired credit cards, half-sawn planks, one and a half VHS players, sundry broken chairs, and guarantees for long abandoned etc, etc, etc, etc.
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a carpenter, good to the znth degree
@ 2008-04-24 – 17:10:32
In the last few weeks I haven't written much about getting my new home in working order - because I've learnt to live in the mess. The central heating's been reconfigured, there's a new washing/drying/airing cupboard, yesterday at last a new blind arrived for my bedroom and the curtains could go up.
As for the rest, I pick my way through the crates, IKEA kits with bits missing, useless polystirene and my library in cardboard boxes - and why sweep the floor when it'll be fithy again soon? - Alec Weston is a man well practiced in the art of slut.
What I need is a carpenter to assemble the kitchen and build 30 metres of bookshelves, as well as other, minor stuff.
I have found a carpenter.
But he never turns up.
"All the best carpenters are like that," friends advise. "They're always too busy to do the work."
"Perhaps I should find someone else."
"Not if you want a good job done Those who are easy to get hold of are often shoddy workers."
"Supposing my carpenter never turns up?"
That would mean he's very, very good apparently. A carpenter for the age of zen.
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1953
@ 2008-04-23 – 23:53:27
This is the 1953rd post on this blog.
In 1953, The Queen was crowned in Westminster Abbey.
I wrote a graffit at school that said Matron was Mad.
And my mother told me the Facts of Life.
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out from under my skin
@ 2008-04-23 – 21:21:50
I've got you under my skin. Which is not the best place to have anybody
Sometimes long after it's over, a love affair lingers in the blood stream. The pain of it, the absursity, the missed oppurtunities, the words I'll love you til the day I die, the happiness between the betrayal... it's like a virus, lurking. Is it going to the there for the rest of my life?
Sometimes it's better to give in. I don't mean start the whole tragi-farce all over again, but don't deny they're still in your bloodscreen, either. Keep control of the situation, make contact but from a safe distance. Go through the cycle one more time - and discover s/he's not under your skin any more afer all.
I have just cured myself of a long-lurking virus. Just a fortnight's exchange of e-mails petering out has proved to be a more effective way of drawing a line under an affair, than years of self denial and secret, sentimental "if onlys..."
[The two intalicised sentences in the post are from Cole Porter songs. One day, I hope to get round to presenting a hyper-dark, hip-hop version of I've got you under my Skin on a podcast] -
a Briton almost fails to fail
@ 2008-04-23 – 17:23:54
according to the BBC Website,
A British tennis player dubbed the worst player in the world has finally won a professional match at the 55th attempt and after three years trying.
Robert Dee, 21, recorded his landmark victory in the qualifying section of a futures event in Spain.
Dee beat Arzhang Derakhshani 6-4 6-3 in the first round of qualifying for the Reus tournament, near Barcelona.
However, his moment in the sun did not last long - he promptly lost 6-3 6-1 to Artur Romanowski in the second round.
Until he beat Derakhshani, Dee had lost 108 straight sets, attracting widespread comment from tennis fans on internet message boards.
Dee, who has a career-best world ranking of 1,466, has been trying to win in tournaments at the very lowest level of the professional game since April 2005.
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Comment Problems
@ 2008-04-22 – 22:28:39
I have been getting several Comment recently that have NEITHER been posted to me by e-mail NOR have appeared on my blog.
Can anyone suggest a reason for this?
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Gay Spaghetti
@ 2008-04-22 – 19:12:45
A Spaghetti House near Victoria Station yesterday evening. I'm eating before catching a train, to avoid the rush.
At a nearby table a middle aged couple either side of a table empty of food. They talk sporadically. After a while, a waiter comes over. The middle aged man becomes animated. "Marvellous food,,, couldn't possibly managed any more..." For several mintes, he has his hand on the waiter's arm. Perhaps they are regulars at this rather ordinary pasta restaurant - or the waiter is famliy friend.
The guy's wife (as far as I can see, it would be rude to look around) treats this encounter as perfectly normal. A few minutes later, the waiter serves them two chocolate-sprinkled cappicinos, and the husband reacts as if they are desserts flown in especially from Milan.
Then, unexpectedly, the waiter comes over to my table and I see his face for the first time. It looks - oiled; as if to make it easier to mug a continous, eyes-wide-open grin. "Do you need anything?" he asks, with more than a hint of double entendre. I ask for the bill. When he brings it over he says something about giving me his phone number...
Er?
As this is not a flight of fancy but a true story, he has whisked himself away before I can think of a witty response.
A few minutes later, as I am about to leave, the waiter is back with the husband, laughing, his arm round the guy's shoulder, the wife impassive. She must be used to it.
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Criminal GIs - another kind of surge
@ 2008-04-22 – 11:07:23
Sex offenders, people convicted of making terrorist threats, and child abusers were allowed to join into the U.S military last year.
The army gave out 511 moral waivers to soldiers with felony convictions in 2007, up from 249 waivers in 2006.
87 recruits jad been convicted of assault or maiming, 130 convicted of non-cannabis-related drug offences, seven convicted of making terrorist threats, and two convicted of indecent behaviour with a child. Waivers were also granted to 500 burglars and thieves, 19 arsonists and nine "ordinary" sex offenders.
The new data were released by the oversight committee of the House of Representatives yesterdy.
The number of moral waivers in the military, mostly for misdemeanours such as speeding fines, reached 34,476 in 2006, or nearly 20% of all enlisted soldiers, according to the Palm Centre at the University of California.
More than one felony conviction disqualifies recruits from the army or marines, but the navy and air force can admit those with multiple offences.
The U.S. military, of course, upholds the highest moral standards in all their operations.
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Stopping stopping.
@ 2008-04-21 – 09:30:46
I MUST STOP.
I fight my supergo, grind my teeth.
I don't stop.
Wouldn't it be a good idea to stop?
Yes. Naturally.
I don't.
Just relax and stop.
You must be joking.
It's self destructive behaviour not to stop.Of course it is.
And there are so many consequencies I don't even know about.
I know.
Why can't I just stop?
I don't know.
I MUST STOP.
Stop shouting.
But I really must stop.
That whiney whisper isn't helping either.
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Killing Kid
@ 2008-04-20 – 12:58:53
Congratulations, TKK, on completing two years of brilliant blogging - and offensive Comments. Happy birthday (if you want one) but don't forget us.
Last year I foolishly made you my superego. In 12 months, you will almost be half my age.
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what a slut!
@ 2008-04-20 – 09:10:57
Today, Too Much Declare steals from Slate, and becomes an Agony Aunt
"Dear Prudence,
My wedding is 59 days away, and I am concerned about my future mother-in-law's dress. She is a wonderful woman who makes me feel accepted as her son's choice for a wife. But with only two months left before the wedding, she had finally begun her search for a dress. Last Sunday, my mother-in-law held my bridal shower at her house. My mother told me that while she was there, she saw a photo of the dress my mother-in-law picked out. She described it as "young, low-cut, and flowing." I wanted to get to the bottom of this, as my mother-in-law had not even informed me that she had purchased anything. So, after the party, I sent her an e-mail, and she sent me a picture of the dress.I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My 51-year-old mother-in-law has picked out a dress with a wispy skirt, a V-neck, and spaghetti straps. It's fit and styled for someone my age—25! And it's robin's egg blue—which doesn't even go with my champagne-colored dress, the bridesmaids' sage green, the chocolate brown tuxes, and my mother's pale pink dress. I can't swallow the fact that she would attempt such a daring wardrobe choice on a day so important to me and her son. This dress has been ordered and is not set to arrive until two weeks before our wedding! I really need advice on how to tell her that I do not feel it is appropriate to wear.
".
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we am, I are
@ 2008-04-19 – 21:55:37
The plumber who just re-engineered my central heating kept telling me, "We will move the boiler here, it won't take us long." In fact, I soon discovered, he always worked on his own. The week before he started work he said, "we are going to Spain" to sell his house there. I never discovered if he travelled alone.
On the other hand Vanessa you to say "I... I... I" when (it took me some time to realise) she was always accompanied, usually by her quasi-boyfriend, Bland. "I went to Hyde Park.... "My flat... my bed... my computer." "I'm going back home to Germany for a week...." Always part of a never-mentioned micro-posse. Why do you need to buy two tickets, then? Intelligent and with brilliant English, yet she never seemed to understand why I found this false I-ness so annoying.
I. We. Is it so difficult?
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Four degrees to Waterloo.
@ 2008-04-19 – 08:24:04
Once, I shook hands with somebody (well, just for effect really because he was a close friend of my mother's and I liked him, too. Anyway...)
I have shaken hands with somebody
Who had shaken hands with somebody
Who had shaken hands with somebody
Who fought in the Battle Of Waterloo.
How well connected am I to you?
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every little writ helps
@ 2008-04-18 – 18:34:06
Until one looks at the matter more closely, it appears that your and my favourite supermarket are behaving like arrogant, greedy, hitleroid shits.
Tesco is expanding fast In Thailand, through their local subsiduary Tesco-Lotus opening a 130 more outlets soon. Many fear (can I get that past the libel lawyers?) that hundreds of local businesses will suffer...and three local journalists are being sued by Teco for saying things that are "blatantly untrue" about Tesco's expansion. The latest to receive a writ is Nongnart Harnivilai, a gossip collumnist on a Thai-language business daily. She ended a jokey little piece with the quip "Ha, Tesco doesn't love Thailand." Dangerous journalism! Tesco-Locust is demanding she pay £1.6mi for her libel. (They're asking one of her colleagues for ten times as much).
Clearly, Tesco does love Thailand. And Britain, too. What's more, we all have a duty to love Tesco back (anyway, it feels legally prudent to say this). Tesco ergo sum. Soon, my friends, we will have little else left to love.
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cat trumps my grandad
@ 2008-04-18 – 08:42:05
I have an an image in my head of my grandfather playing 'solitaire' - what I was brought up to call 'patience'. He used to spend most of the day sitting in his tubular chrome chair in front of a green card table, playing game after game, criticizing the world and my grandmother's cooking.
That's my abiding image. Unfortunately Google doesn't share it.
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to hell with this
@ 2008-04-17 – 23:59:17
All these revelations and epiphanies and pushing myself in new directions and impatience and need for perfection and work-drive and earnestness and solitude and self-pity and stuckness and light lunches and plans and resolutions and need for approval and and epiphanies and pushing myself in new directions introspection, bloody introspection and impatience and need for perfection and work-drive and earnestness and solitude and self-pity and stuckness and light lunches and plans and resolutions and
it's time to lighten up.
