Post 487. WENT TO THE DENTIST

 AS A BIRTHDAY TREAT.

THANKFUL WE'RE STILL NHS PATIENTS.
Counting my birthday blessings. Mo, walking with a frame but sound behind a steering wheel, drove us to Ventnor for a dental check-up. Tim Fradgley did his usual polished job. We departed, heavy of foot, and lighter in heart and pocket, I think the bill under private arrangements would have been awesome, though neither of us was in need of major attention..
The practice staff were great. Could not have been more kind or attentive.
Sadly this country is heading the American way, and I doubt NHS dentistry will last much longer.
But where was I? Oh...yes...the birthday. Messages from family and friends, cards, and gifts.

I now have a new computer chair, the complete piano concertos (on CD) of Beethoven played by Jan Lisiecki with the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, two books that could not have been better bought had I chosen them for myself: Piano Man, a Life of John Ogden by Charles Beauclerk, and Piano Competition: The Story of the Leeds by Wendy Thompson with Fanny Waterman and, as if that's not enough, a brand new black beret for when I'm being artistic.

For the record, I think I look less like Pablo Picasso than like an old Frank Spencer. So to...

SIXTY ONE YEARS OF MARRIAGE

CELEBRATED WITH THE ABOVE MESSAGE.
From my beloved, a sad but true reflection, and one to which anybody who has watched Jeremy Vine on Channel 5 with me recently will readily attest. I still look in if the handful of people who do not bellow or shriek are in evidence (e.g. Yasmin Alibhai-Brown,, Owen Jones, Kevin Maguire, Geoff Norcott): otherwise I leave it. I eschew UKIP, 'broadcasters', and 'former journalists,' too.
I can't stay grumpy for long, though. Lord, there can't be that much time left! Fact is, when Ellis put together the new computer chair and rather admired it I advised him not to buy one for himself: he may inherit this one sooner than he thinks. I'm getting fun from it now though.

See what I mean about the beret?
Go peacefully, you.

Try not to crash your career with crass comment. 

 

Post 486. IF YOU WRITE.

TAKE TO AND WRITE,

DON'T OVERTHINK IT.
Occasionally I stop to think how much of the time I have left in this world I can afford to spend overthinking: especially when it comes to the production of a few words for a blog that never has, and never will, bring me a cent in hard cash. Trouble is, there are always so many things to think about, and even an old scribbler can be lost where to stop. So I have a quick think...and write.
Recently there has been an 'escaped from Wandsworth' prisoner in the news attracting a bevy of retired chief inspector of police 'experts' to talk what should be common sense to even the most naive layman. "He must have had help." Seventy five hours later the escapee, soldier Daniel Khalife (hardly an Osama bin Laden)  was rearrested. What a relief! Now we can sleep soundly again.. And, without overthinking, I suddenly had another 'live' subject to write about, together with the last night of the Proms. How jolly.
TELEVISION.
On Friday nights I watch Gardener's World (BBC2). I am not a gardener. Not sure which way up to plant a bulb. But I lke other people's gardens when they are spick and span. I like Monty Don and his dogs, too. So does Mo. And she can plant bulbs and spectacularly fall down in the garden, so she is much closer to earth than me.
Glad to say she's gradually getting better after the last nasty tumble.

Last week on the BBC we saw Caligula, a documentary about Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus the infamous Roman emperor whose tyrannical reign lasted three years, ten months, and eight days. Professor Mary Beard was her usual down to earth well-informed self, and 'Bootikins' became a much more credible madman. We also learned that his successor, stammering uncle Claudius, was equally bad news. So don't be fooled by Derek Jacobi, Caligula's assassins should have been more careful what they wished for.
I also watched a programme about Edward Heath, the Tory Prime Minister who was ousted by Margaret Thatcher. I always thought he was a keyboard playing self-server, but he took us into Europe and he must be spinning in his grave now. Michael Cockerell's documentary was interesting and informative. It did nothing to change my mind about ol' Ted, but those in his party who wanted him out should have been more careful what they wished for.
Overshadowing everything else on offer, though, we settled down to
THE LAST NIGHT OF THE PROMS.
For many years I avoided the first half of Last Night on the grounds that much of it is an off-key dirge. Perhaps that's just my reactionary musical ear, but I really can't be arsed with searching for a tune. However, after last year's cancellation I watched the lot this year. The BBC Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Marin Alsop, was in fine fettle, and it was particularly pleasing to see oboist Tom Blomfield and flautist Michael Cox seated next to each other again. The guest soloists for the evening, cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason and soprano Lise Davidsen, both did their stuff well, and the Promenaders were totally with it, whatever flag they were waving.
In the commentary box was the Proms presenter Katie Derham, lyric soprano Danielle de Niese, and strikingly blue-suited Danish treasure Sandi Toksvig. Who could ask for anything more?

Well, we had more. When the Rule Britannia-ing and Auld Lang Syne-ing was all over, a compilation of 'the best bits' from the entire eight weeks was shown on BBC iPlayer. Magic.
I think it all starts again next July.

Cheers everybody!

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