Its been really depressing reading the newspapers or watching the News in the last few weeks. I sometimes think for the good of our mental health we should give ourselves a break from the bombardment of horrors that hit us from every corner of the Universe.
I don’t think us Human Beings were meant to know whats going on all around the world in such infinite detail. From scenes of War to Famine, Murder and Missing Children its easy to get overloaded and feel generally that sometimes the world is such a cruel place we just want to hibernate and bury our heads so far in the sand that we pop out in Australia.
Worldwide news is bad enough but the home-grown variety has been shocking of late. Firstly a teacher runs off with his under-age pupil which didn’t shock me too much. I had a bit of a thing with a school teacher when I was sixteen, nothing serious just a bit of a snog at a disco. It didn’t seem a big deal ..he was newly qualified so quite young and I looked about twenty-five . I had been frequenting pubs since I was fourteen and felt like a grown up but of course I wasn’t. He didn’t lead me astray if anything it was the other way round. But it didn’t go any further, didn’t damage me psychologically and didn’t seem to do me any harm .
Of course in these days of political correctness things are taken much more seriously and of course running off with a fourteen year old was a stupid and irresponsible thing to do and if I was her mother I would be asking for his balls on a plate. If you can’t trust a teacher who can you trust ? Well definitely not an ageing DJ who smokes massive cigars.!!
The Jimmy Saville scandal is still gaining momentum and I am still disturbed by it. I was sad when he died. Always an eccentric figure he was around a lot when I was growing up and seemed to represent the nature of TV at the time. His charity work was legend and he seemed to have lived a blameless life. Huh!! well that was so far from the truth it is truly scary.
I absolutely believe all the woman who have come forward and feel very sad that they were not in a place where they could have spoken up at the time. These wern’t woman of the world they were often innocent, more than likely virgins and he without doubt wielded his celebrity in such a way that they felt they had no choice. But from the accounts I have heard he just used their bodies for his own gratification and it is sickening. This is made much worse because I met Jimmy Saville when I was at Champneys a few years ago.
My girlfriends and I were having a few days pampering in the countryside and there he was larger than life. After dinner both nights he joined us in the smoking room sporting the usual large cigar. He was chatty and friendly and at one point jumped on me and my BF lap for a photo. It was all good fun but I remember his close proximity if for no other reason than the fact that the musty old track suit he was wearing needed a bloody good wash..yuk! He then insisted we had a look at his luxury room and showed us the TV in the bath and various other things he was privy too due to his celebrity status. There was four of us and we were certainly in no danger not being the right side of forty or in his case should I say twenty. But he was odd and I wondered why he had never married or had kids and did wonder if he might be gay.
In any event I’m sure there will be a load more revelations and it will all be hard to hear about as was the disappearance of the little girl in Wales. It’s every parent nightmare and follows in the wake of Ben Needham, Maddy McCann and all the others. Absolutely heartbreaking and as usual the culprit is a friend or neighbour it beggars belief and makes me wonder who in the world we can trust with our children.
On the personal front I have been busy as usual and trying to recover from my extended birthday celebrations and Butlins. I had a lovely birthday and some lovely presents and the beautiful flowers that were sent to my office by a very sweet TB are still blooming and gracing my front room. I had clothes and perfume..make up and creams and felt very blessed.
The film crew are still on the street and with the project winding down I just hope that the neighbourhood spirit that has been generated carries on long after they have gone. My car is now up for rent on whip car and I hope someone might like to hire it soon.
I had a nice date this week in London with a serial internet dater..we had a lot in common and exchanged notes. I had to rush to catch the train out and in my haste I had lost a number of my false nails retrieving them from were they had pinged too I decided to just stick them back on. The glue was so dried I couldn’t get any out so improvising I decided to use super glue. I managed to stick one back and then got my fingers covered in the excess , next thing I know two of my fingers are stuck together..Great!. I panic and run them under hot water and try to ease them apart. It feels like my skin is coming off too. I check my watch the clock is ticking damn it! Eventually I prise them apart but still have two nails to stick I manage one and then hunting for the other I realise I have stuck them on in the wrong order, now have a thumb nail that needs to fit on a much smaller one. Hacking it with scissors I make a rotten job of it. By now most of my fingers are covered in dried bloody glue!! grabbing some wipes and some nail varnish and looking like Edward Scissor Hands I head out deciding to try to salvage my botched manicure on the train.
Despite all this I had a nice evening and managed to catch the 11 pm train back into Enfield Town. The train was reasonably busy and I always feel quite safe on my own..trusty mobile to hand and something to read. A couple of stops on, a lively extended family get on and surround me. A mix of age groups they were playing a game of linking words. I was smiling at some of their answers and they sort of included me in the game. It was refreshing to see a family out enjoying an evening together and they were delightful to watch. They got off at one stop before mine at the end of the line. My carriage was nearly empty, just a very tall gentleman that looked a bit the worse for wear but was quietly sitting, staring into space and one other guy wearing a brightly coloured knitted hat.
As the family got off I heard a loud slurred and drunk voice moaning about dropping his fag under the train. The owner of the voice staggered through the open door followed by a clone also staggering. They sat near the man with the hat who smiled at them and said something about the dropped cigarette. I remember thinking No! No! don’t speak to them having worked out that they were so stoned and drunk that any hope of a normal conversation would be futile. The loud one started to question the man loudly and drunkenly, He kept asking the poor man where he was from over and over . The man kept asking him back without answering. This annoyed ‘ Dum’ who them began to point and wave his hand in the hat man’s face and his voice grew more menacing. I could see where this was going. The swearing got worse the pointing more vicious. Somehow and credit too him, the hat man managed to calm the situation and they were almost at the Bro and Blood stage when the big man at the back is propelled into action. Being so drunk he was processing the situation in slow motion and misread the signs. He lumbered up the train and stood between Dum and Dummer and the hat man, patting the hat man by way of reassurance and then proceed to stare down ‘Dum’
This in turn aggravated ‘Dummer’ who staring up at the big man with dead shark eyes starts to berate him. I turn around and realise that I am the only other person in the carriage and willing the train get a lick on I start trying to sooth the situation by saying things like “come one boys nearly home no point arguing” No one was listening to me and the menacing Dummer was now asking the big man “‘what he was going to do about it ?” My stomach was churning and I thought any minute now someone is going to throw a punch and could this bloody train go any slower!!. To be honest Dummer would have had to climb onto Dums shoulders to take a pop at the big man but you never know whether they may have weapons.
For two or three minutes I held my breath and as the train stopped at the end of the line I couldn’t wait to get off and went to find the driver. The arguing continued with no-one wanting to give ground as I looked behind me the big man stepped off and as the driver emerged we both told him what had gone on. Leaving the driver to sort it out I headed home and watched as the big man snaked his way down the road.
I was relieved to get in through the door and making myself a nice cup of horlicks to calm my nerves I settled down in front of the tv pondering the contrast between my travelling companions on a random Tuesday in October.
Inevitably I fell asleep and as I negotiated the stairs to bed I realised that another day had passed and I still hadn’t heard from Irish. It was now three weeks, I wonder….
