Once upon a time this was about Me and The Boy. The it was Me, The Boy, The Cat and The Cat's Mother. And now, I'm not sure who it's about. How life changes when you least expect it!
Monday, 6 July 2015
Funeral for a stranger
We've taken to seeing bands 'just in case' it's the last time they tour. That was our reason for seeing The Eagles earlier this year, and I guess to a certain extent Paul Simon as I mentioned in the last post. The Who, adn the Rolling stones are well up on our list now. A couple of weeks ago we headed to the O2 to see Fleetwood Mac. The problem with the O2 is that too often you sit so far away from the band themselves you spend the evening watching the screens, which rather defeats the object I think...and so it was this time. Not to worry, the songs are fantastic...although its fair to say that the first half was galloped through as if they had the last bus ti catch. Christine McVie was making a triumphant return...and just in case we forgot we were told repeatedly throughout the show. My favourite sign that this is a collection of phenomenal egos was that instead of having the name of the band on the drums, it was merely Mr Fleetwood's initials. His ten minute solo was interminable. So good songs, poor show...although we were the only ones who seemed to notice.
I can't remember when the last time was that I test drove a car before I bought it. I work on the basis that all cars are pretty good these days, so I don't need to. That could have been disastrous when i bought my last Jeep, because most of the reports in car magazines liken it to tractor. But as it turned out, that agricultural feel was what has made it very special for me...it's a challenge to drive, and has acres of personality. Everytime I got in it since I bought it in 2009, it managed to put a smile on my face. No other car has ever done that. But time has passed, the government has gone from extolling the virtues of diesel to vilifying it, and I've never kept a new car for more than three years. So I decided to replace it...and for the first time I decided I would replace my current car with the same again. But this time with a higher spec and petrol engine, and (because manual is no longer available) an automatic gearbox. Metallic bronze instead of silver. After placing the order away back in December, the Beast was delivered just before my birthday. And what a transformation the new car is. It has been turned by the designers from an agricultural workhorse into a luxury cruiser. Smooth, powerful and full of bells and whistles. The colour was not quite as suggested, and that has given rise to endless humour amongst friends. Bling it certainly is. At least it is not out of place in darkest Essex...I'll be getting a vajazel next. So far I like it, but don't yet love it...hopefully that will come. The old one is yet to be sold...so if you know someone who would be interested, let me know...just like a pet it must go to a caring home.
I've come to like going to funerals. That feels peculiar to me...but I have a reason. I went to the funeral a couple of weeks ago of someone I didn't know. His parents taught me at school, and I have enormous respect for them, so when I heard the news of his premature death due to complications from malaria, I felt it was something I wanted to do. His father seemed to be bearing up well, although his mother couldn't hide the impact of losing her youngest son was having on her. So why did I like going to this funeral? It was because of the eulogy by his brother, which brought him to life in a vivid fashion. An extremely talented pilot who lived a life of adventure whilst retaining his passion for his family and home country. I felt completely lifted to hear about him, and it was true to say this was a celebration. Of course, I would rather there had been no reason at all for me to be there.