Miserable fucking so and so

Miserable passenger

I had some considerable trouble getting to work this morning. The first issue was leaving my wallet behind. Sadly, I only realised that when I got to the front of this queue and realised I had absolutely no means to pay for my return ticket to White City.

That wasn’t the worst of it though. As I arrived in the ticket hall with my bike, puffing slightly, hoping I might just work a miracle and make it on to the train, I realised that the train I had been aiming for was slowly pulling out of the station.

Predictably, I communicated my disappointed with a swift but satisfying “damn it” before shuffling to the back of the queue and waiting my turn like a good boy.

Shame then that the man in front of me (pictured) chose to turn around, his top lip curled skyward and say “You’ll have to wait your turn like the rest of us.”

Stunned and even more irritated than before I succeeded in delivering a fairly weak-willed response. “I wasn’t suggesting otherwise,” I said. Ever the grown-up, I began mouthing obscenties at him when he faced the other way. *

What I’d really like, you see, is for the pesky liars in the world and those who reckon their place on earth is secured by being grumpy to everyone in the mornings to be eradicated, preferably at birth if that’s at all possible.

* I didn’t think much to his waterproof coat, myself. I thought it looked a little pathetic. Still, he did strike me as a little thin and where was the arse in his trousers? Poor blighter. Got to forgive him really, I suppose.

When fear takes hold

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not very good at dealing with fear. 

I’m fine with the obvious kind – you know, the times when you look down to the ground from a great height and all you can feel are your legs trembling uncontrollably – I know what I need to do in order to overcome that. Just move away from the edge and take a few deep breaths and you’ll be fine.

There’s another kind of fear which, for me, at least is far more debilitating.

It happened today. The problem raised its ugly head without a moments notice. No-one else saw it. Everyone, in fact, seemed almost bemused when I spoke of it with them. But I know I saw it.

It happened in a split second. I overheard someone at the queue for coffee this morning mention something which was a blatant lie. I knew it as soon as they said it. Sure, I didn’t have any evidence for it and if I was to stand up in a court of law and denounce him I wouldn’t, as the saying goes, have a leg to stand on. But I know it was a lie. I could feel it.

The lie felt like a soft pillow. Soft, comforting but ultimately dangerous. That’s what was in my mind when I heard him say it. “You’re saying like you’re being cool and laid back,” I thought to myself, “You’re saying it like it was fact. But how can it be fact. I know what I heard you say before and I know it was nothing like you said just now.” I didn’t say it, obviously. I just thought it. But in that split second of thinking it, something inside me began to change.

When I witness these moments I’m like a rabbit caught in the headlights. I look around in desperate search of a trusting face. Someone who will look and speak in a reassuring way. For the lie to be dismissed and the person lying to be disarmed takes a very special person with whom I have a very special relationship to tap me on the shoulder and point out that, “everything will be OK .. we’re all on to him, don’t you worry.”

I’m happy to say that this situation doesn’t occur so much as it used to, but when it does it’s like a thunderbolt. Time suddenly stands still. Indistinct faces laugh at my integrity, jumping out at me from unexpected places. I stand seemingly powerless to do anything, in awe of the power a liar has in undermining my very foundations.

They are the most destructive of individuals. I only wish they’d destroy themselves first before they attempt to lay claim on others around them.

Anniversaries all ’round

My parents

Today was the day Simon and I finally got to celebrate my parents wedding anniversary. We took them to our favourite restaurant in town, one of the Conrans in Butlers Wharf – The Chop House. *

The day we nominated to celebrate my parents 50 years together just happened to be the day Simon and I marked our first year as civil partners (such a vile term).

Sadly, my sister couldn’t be with us as I’d hoped she might be but despite that the afternoon was fun and fitting all at the same time.

You can see more of the Thoroughly Good time we spent together here.

* The usual recommendation is implicit here.

Shameless indulgence in the past

Simon and I risked having what I’d considered as one of this year’s key Proms gigs being interrupted when two of our friends visited us half an hour after Prom #2 had started this evening.

Strangely however, we had waved them goodbye just in time for us to hear the one thing I’d been waiting to hear since the Proms brochure came out.

Eric Rogers’ music for the Carry On films was every bit as thrilling to hear this evening as it was when I listened to it time and time again from the recordings I’d made on cassette tape twenty-odd years ago.

I really enjoyed tonight. Tell me you listened to it too.  

Tonight’s Prom: Prom # 2

Music from Great British Film  [Programme available here]

Saturday 14 July 2007

Listen Live at 7.30pm BST @ www.bbc.co.uk/radio/aod/radio3.shtml

I look at the running order for Prom # 2 and a cheeky grin spreads across my face as I think about a person I know who’ll almost certainly be dismissing this evening’s concert on the grounds it’s not “serious” enough.

To deny any composer the opportunity to have their creations heard from the platform at the Royal Albert Hall is a crime.

So, ladies and gentlemen, sit back and listen to such classic film music as the march from Bridge On The River Kwai, John William’s Harry’s Wondrous World from Harry Potter and, something I’m really looking forward to, a medley of Carry On music. It’s high time the music from the Carry On films got the Proms stamp of approval.