2008 — 18 August: Monday
Tonight's picture? Shortly after my Dad's death in May 1975. We were visiting dear Mama in Penn (near High Wycombe) from our flat in Old Windsor just about every weekend to help out. Not the happiest or most stress-free of times, I admit, but the two of us somehow got through it together. Christa was a tower of strength, and I leaned on her a lot.
Glad it's not just me... dept.
Junior sent me links to a couple of the freelance websites he's been working on and I had occasion to remark, about one of them: "I assume you know that with Firefox 3.0.1 and Adblock your left hand block oscillates perpetually up and down in size slightly?" Came his reply: "Yeah - it's ****ing annoying. There's no good reason why it should do that!" Priceless.
By the way, my order for a Stomu Yamash'ta double CD is already placed. I'm slightly incorrigible, I guess. And, if you're reading this Val in Old Windsor, it's combined with an order for the Joshua Ferris book you urged me to read ("Then we came to the end"). Thanks in advance for the tip.
G'night!
Why so early?
It's only 7:55 and sleep now eludes me, dammit. Still, the sun is shining through some of the rain clouds. Dont'cha just love a Monday morning? I've just made myself an initial cuppa, drawn the curtains, and so on. Looking around the dining room, and now glancing again at that 1999 picture of a little family gathering in that room, it's only just struck me that the present world map on display there1 perfectly encapsulates my "state". It's one of those world seen from an unusual angle maps showing north and south inverted. And, indeed, my world has also been turned upside down. The thought is a wry one, I have to say.
I note that my map supplier is now making an unusual offer. They have a DVD about (the late) Arno Peters2 (the "equal area" projection map chap) and say If you cannot afford this DVD, we'll donate a copy to you if you hold a screening that is open to the public. How cool is that? I do recommend his atlas, which I bought sometime in 1989.
Time to squeeze that teabag, and shift off the rather gloomy BBC Radio 3 choice of music! And now (08:53) time for some of that milk-coated cardboard porridge that is good for the heart. (My theory is anything that tastes and feels so awful must be good for you.) I don't know where the Broadway underpass is, but I've just learned it's flooded. It's below the water table, apparently, but is a recent construction. Sounds like a nice bit of planning.
Why should I do all the driving...? dept.
I've just added Big Bro to my car insurance as a named driver for the next week. Only cost £10-50, too. So we can share the upcoming chauffering duties.
Mr Parcel Post was quite early today — it's 11:20 and there's a fascinating BBC Radio 4 programme on cycle couriers in London. Not something I could ever see myself doing.
The Alan Parsons CD ("I Robot") is a 30th anniversary remaster. I used to own it on half-speed mastered MFSL vinyl at five times the cost of this little piece of plastic. Amazing. The "Ever, Dirk" is the just-published collection of his letters I mentioned here. "Sleepers" has (I note with some distaste) "been modified for home video presentation" — in other words, they didn't have the rights3 to all the original music for this American edition. Ironic, given that I'll be watching it in its home country.
Better nip out to the shops before what looks like a pending inundation, I guess.
"I may be gone some while..." dept.
It's a drizzly grey 17:47 and the gas and electricity meters have been read — is this an exciting life, or what? I'd say that falls into the "Or what?" category, which is a nice line of dialogue nearly at the end of an underrated 1985 film by John Landis: Into the night — in fact, it's actually chosen by whoever wrote the IMDB entry. Elsewhere, I turned up this lightweight summary:
It has humor, sympathetic characters, hilariously bad acting from great directors who should have known better, improbable and excessive violence, and gratuitous nudity. Among the gratuities, it has Michelle Pfeiffer stark naked for no reason other than to have Michelle Pfeiffer stark naked. I don't know what more one needs in this imperfect world.
Hard to disagree. And there's a superb review here, too. Now then, where was I? Oh yes. While the whirling dervish that is my Big Bro is in town,4 I rather doubt that I'll be finding much time to keep this diary chugging along. I've laid in some extra supplies, but his proposed itinerary has us up in the Midlands quite sharpish. (I hope he remembers he said he'd pay for the petrol!)
Once again, I've gone to the fridge intending to dig out and eat "item A" and have been brought up short by the revelation that "item B" is at or beyond its use-by date. I need a system... heck, I need Christa! Wonder where she is? Still, it's 18:46 and the inner man is satisfied for the time being — I hope! It seems to be less drizzly, too. I've prepared Bro's room (that is, shoved as much clutter out of the way as seemed necessary) and am debating whether or not to call dear Mama about our intended arrival. I think I won't count that particular chicken until it's safely landed and calling me from the train.
It's 20:41. Do I want to hear yet another Beethoven Symphony, or should I move mentally downmarket a little? Decisions, decisions. Meanwhile, I found a picture that actually shows my original A/V switchbox, circa 1989. My word, my hair was plentiful and dark back then.