Category: General

A gentle kick up the , erm, fundament…

…delivered by JM Esq in another place prompts me to explain why i have been AOL for a while.

Things have not been all sweetness and light of the last few months chez Bravo. My son’s engagement went South, triggering a relapse in his condition, which has not been fun. You probably all recall that I was quite optimistic about his development last time, but this latest setback has been quite grim. The boy was actually led to the point of contemplating suicide at one point – going so far as to climb the stairs to the top of the building where he, (thankfully, still,) works here in London and looking over the edge…

I am grateful that, through it all, we have still managed to keep talking, even about that incident, but it has not been easy. The need to concentrate on providing the support the boy needs has, erm, how should I put this… rather upset my own plans, so I am still here in London rather than Jakarta or Cape Town, both places where I have had offers of contracts, or in Cyprus working on my book project and playing with my grandchildren.

I hope that does not sound grudging – it is meant to be merely descriptive as I have no hesitation at all in making whatever effort is needed to give the boy the support he needs But it’s hard. The problem is twofold. First, it is impossible to understand what he is going through. I have read as much as I can, and talked to as many people as I can, but, I think, it remains impossible to fully understand, and therefore empathise with, what he is suffering – I’m sure we have all been ‘depressed,’ at times, but clinical depression is another thing entirely. The second problem derives from that lack of understanding, because one is permanently walking on eggshells; what to say, what to do, what advice to give, when to stroke and when, if ever, to kick Rse a little bit.

Anyway, enough of my problems. The bottom line is that I have not felt myself to be fit for civilised company over the last months – I don’t count the pages of the DT blogs, where JM administered the afore-mentioned gentle encouragement – as civilised, but a place where I could vent a little on the AGW whackos who attempt to shut down dissent from their ridiculous religion there.

The good news – apart from England retaining the Calcutta Cup yesterday, having handed a right shellacking to the All Blacks in the Autumn – is that we seem to be making our way, if slowly, out of the slough of despond. We have engineered a complete image makeover for the boy, haircut, lose the beard, new wardrobe, and the fortuitous arrival of his childhood best friend from Hong Kong and a conscious determination on the boy’s part to escape his prison seem to be pointing to a new strength. He’s going out more often, making new friends and generally beginning to behave like a ‘normal’ 30 year-old in London with all its opportunities and challenges, for which I am truly grateful.

So, there it is. I’m going to be here in London for at least the next twelve months – I’m in the process of negotiating a contract here, admittedly below the level i would usually consider, but I need the distraction 🙂 Anhyhoo, Bravo’s back…

Here We Go Again

It’s that time of the season when I get this absolutely certain feeling that Scotland are going to do well in the Six Nations. Said feeling has come really late this time. It usually starts on New Year’s Day about 2 am after I’ve had a fair sufficiency.

This year it suddenly kicked in about five minutes ago and it probably won’t last much longer than 4.05 pm this afternoon as events unfold at Twickers.

Whatever. It’s a fine feeling while it’s there. And, when it goes pear-shaped, I can always blame Salmond. I’ll bet the sleekit little scunner will be sitting there in a freebie seat praying for an English win by at least 100 points so that he can cast it up as yet another act of oppression by the Auld Enemy.

C’mon Scotland. 

Fantasticks- February

I have been transcribing the strange calendar from the book Fantasticks, by Nicholas Breton (1554-1626). It is out of print, and a modest readership has been following each episode. So here is February.

 FEBRUARY

It is now February, & the Sun is gotten up a Cocke-stride of his climbing, the Valleyes now are painted white, and the brookes are full of water: the Frog goes to seeke out the Paddocke, and the Crow and the Rooke begin to mislike their old Makes: forward Connies begin now to kindle, & the fat grounds are not without Lambes; the Gardiner fals to sorting of his seeds, and the Husbandman falls afresh to scowring of his Ploughshare: the Terme travellers make the Shooe-makers Harvest, and the Chaundlers cheese makes the chalke walke apace: The Fishmonger sorts his ware against Lent: and a Lamb-skinne is good for a lame arme: the waters now alter the nature of their softnes and the soft earth is made stony hard: The Ayre is sharp and piercing, and the winds blow cold: the Tavernes and the Innes seldome lack Guests, & the Ostler knows how to gaine by his Hay: the hunting Horse is at the heeles of the Hound, while the ambling Nagge carrieth the Physitian and his footcloth: the blood of Youth begins to spring, and the honour of Art is gotten by Exercise: The trees a little begin to bud, and the sap begins to rise up out of the root: Physic now hath work among weak bodies, and the Apothecaries drugges are very gainfull: There is hope of a better time not farre off, but this in it selfe is little comforte: and for the small pleasure that I find in it, I will this briefly conclude of it: It is the poor mans pick-purse, and the misers cut-throat, the enemy of pleasure, and the time of patience.

Farewell.

Notes

The “makes”, which the crow and rook grow tired of, are mates; but the word here is not a mistake for “mate”. It comes from an Old English word related to “match”.

I am told that the bit about the Chaundlers (Chandlers?) cheese making the chalke walke apace refers to the account of money owing being chalked up on the “Slate”.  The Slate was in common use in my youth at my grandfather’s bakery – some entries never got fully erased.

All the perfumes of Arabia …

It has been reported in the French press that a deprived family visiting the Musée d’Orsay on Saturday was escorted out of the building because other visitors had complained that these people smelled bad.  The family, two adults and a child whose age varies according to which report one reads but around 10-12 years of age, had come to the art gallery with a volunteer from ATD – quart monde France.  This group was set up to fight for the dignity of people (Agir Tous pour la Dignité).  According to one report the volunteer bought the entrance tickets and then lunch for the group in the restaurant.  While visiting the Van Gogh room, the group was asked by one museum attendant to leave because other visitors were complaining of its unpleasant smell.  The group disregarded this request and moved on to another room with fewer people in it.  Then four attendants surrounded the group and escorted them out of the front door, where their entrance fees were refunded.

The Musée d’Orsay has apologised for the incident, but also pointed out that deprived people do not need to pay for admission.  ATD should have known that. Was this some sort of stunt?  As usual the most interesting section is the comments page where many readers feel that ATD should have spent the cash on filling up the larder for this family and possibly adding some soap.  It’s a ticklish problem.  An ATD spokesman has commented that this is the sort of treatment meted out to those who “have poverty written on their faces”.  I’ve never come across such an incident before.  Have any other Charioteers?

http://news.fr.msn.com/m6-actualite/une-famille-d%C3%A9favoris%C3%A9e-priv%C3%A9e-de-mus%C3%A9e-pour-cause-dodeur