Friday, 15 April 2011

History is bunk

It's depressing to see The World's Oldest Man has died. The thing is, he seems to die every month. As does The World's Oldest Woman. I never read beyond the headline, but it does seem strange to me that they keep on popping off like that. It's a title I hope I never get to inherit. I'm not even sure how you apply for it, perhaps it's just an honourary thing.

It's been an odd week without The Boy. The house is a lot quieter, so we're all looking forward to him coming back to us from his week away doing 'Adventurous Training'. I don't normally keep in touch with him whilst he's away, but on this occasion we've swapped a few texts, although no doubt not as many as he's swapped with his girlfriend, and in any case, they dried up altogether on doubt because of poor mobile reception in the Lake District where he's been yomping up hills and down valleys. Evidently its 'bloody freezing' and so wet that they had to do the rock climbing indoors. That must have been a very big building. It should help him in his preparations for Silver Duke of Edinburgh Award, and it won't do any harm in his CCF progression - evidently he's best in his year, so maybe he'll earn a new stripe soon.

Hopefully he will be pleased to see us; I'm sure he'll be pleased to see his room which has been painted, and fitted with new wardrobes, shelves, desk and carpet. It looks quite splendid....even if the picture is pretty rubbish.

Doing The Boy's room has meant that we;ve been going through (yet another) cycle of chucking stuff away. It's supposed to be therapeutic, but after all the efforts to create some breathing space in Brighton it's beginning to feel that isn't the case.

At the same time, I've been clearing out the office. We've been running for fifteen years, and almost a quarter of the space was being taken up with old press coverage. It was an impressive pile of stuff, and the product of many hours, days, weeks, months, years of effort. But at the end of the day was it ever going to be looked at again? No it wasn't. So it had to go. And it was hard. I was ruthless...not looking at what was going, simply chucking it out. But it's provoked a thought train which may yet be a bit of a pandora's box. If I'd been an architect, the fruit of my labours would be there for all to see for years and years. A monument to my skill. I'd have left a mark. The same must be true for many others. It is certainly what drove (obsessed) Tony Blair in his final months...his legacy. In the same way, actors and actresses leave a fantastic legacy if they're on film or TV...for ever alive for people to see and watch.

I guess then, that unless I change careers, this blog will be my legacy. I'd better sharpen up my act then!