Seasonal Greetings

I finally seem to have finished my addressing and posting off of Christmas Cards but, I daren’t open my address book to check up on whom I’ve overlooked. No doubt there’ll be the odd greetings card received from the ranks of ‘the forgotten’ … cue violins and traditional seasonal guilt! Truth be told, I feel the most important seasonal greetings transmissions have been those to friends in prison, one of whom so rarely hears from anyone!

How To Lose Friends and Disinterest People

This evening found me all on my ownsome as my beloved has been out at her second Christmas ‘do’. As far as I’m aware there’s only one more of these events this season but, it does her good to get away from her old moaner. Half an hour after her departure the phone rings and, guess what, the call is for Helen. Ten minutes later it buzzes again but, this time it is for yours truly.

The call is from an artist friend, who I’ve not heard from for some considerable time. This is when the first mistake occurs, “How’s things with you?” he asks. The second mistake follows swiftly upon the first; I start to tell him, not in a ‘down in the dumps' manner I hasten to add. How does one describe a filing cabinet full, of miscellaneous physical and emotional ailments, in a telegram.

As it’s a friend, one realizes it’s not the formal courtesy of enquiring after your health … “How are you?” … which one knows requires a response of, “Fine, and how are you”. On the other hand, they don’t expect a whole diatribe of ailments but, how else does one explain why they’ve been out of circulation for so long.

What he found difficult to understand was why I’ve not got myself up to the loft to do some painting! That’s when the explanation follows, about requiring at least half-an-hour’s rest when I’ve been sufficiently energised to take a shower. Oh, what a joy the conversation must have been.

More Food for Thought

"Globalisation seems to me like a system where the man with power uses a big stick to put the man without power in his place," he says. "If you squeeze every last drop of blood from a Jamaican labourer and at the end of the day he hasn't got enough money to send his children to school or put food on his table, then who benefits?"

Extract from 'We will pay for cheap bananas with prisons, fear and fragmentation' - Guardian, 12 December 2005

Walk Like An Egyptian

After some 13 hours bedrest and, freshly emerged from my warm duvet lair, the doorbell rings. Forgetting that I’m me, make a swift dash to the staircase and, foot on the top step my knee-joint goes into painful spasm. Undaunted, I revert to a crablike gait, hands firmly grasping the rail and, just manage to catch the parcel delivery man as he prepares to retreat.

An uncomfortable re-ascent of the staircase follows, to grab and apply my knee support. Thinking of the various strappings that I apply to shoulders, elbows etc. on a multiplicity of occasions, my thoughts then turned to the Ancient Egyptians.

Perhaps we’ve got it all wrong about these bandaged figures, recovered from the various sarcophagi! Maybe the bandages weren’t applied post-mortem but, rather, had been applied at various life stages to deal with the most excruciating muscular and joint pains.

Makes you think, dunnit?

And Sometimes There Are False Alarms

Methinks that Mary is in for a prolonged labour. On opening the Advent Calendar for today I was somewhat unprepared for the message, "So Mary and Joseph spent the nght sheltering in a stable with the animals". Let's hope there aren't too many complications!

Tales of the UneXpected

Tonight, my beloved and I are still in a state of shock. Brenda, after two amazing performances, is out of 'The X Factor'. With the exception of Andy, all the performers excelled themselves this evening but, with the voting being so tight we just knew it had to be Andy or Journey South who'd be going home. Perhaps the problem was that so many potential voters assumed that Brenda was 'safe'.

Brenda has gone from strength to strength throughout the series, whereas Andy peaked early and over the past couple of weeks his performance declined. Of the finalists, Journey South are our favourites but, I still feel (despite the odd dodgy performance mid-series) as I did before the proper contest began, that Shayne will be the winner .

In the end, it's just entertainment ... but, nonetheless involving!

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Certain friends of mine have suggested that if I didn't allow my body to waste its energy on allowing my residual hair to grow freely, I'd maybe feel a bit less drained. Unfortunately, I remember the story of Samson and what happened to him when his hair was cut. Starting from my current low reserves of physical and emotional stamina, I dread to think where such an exercise might lead. I'd even have to give up being a seriously balding plain clothes Santa Claus.

Theology Lite: Massaging The Message

An interesting article in today's New York Times:
When Christmas Falls on Sunday, Megachurches Take the Day Off

Some of the nation's most prominent megachurches have decided not to hold worship services on the Sunday that coincides with Christmas Day, a move that is generating controversy among evangelical Christians at a time when many conservative groups are battling to "put the Christ back in Christmas."

John Lennon Day

The letterbox goes “clunk” around lunchtime and, among the post is the 2CD set “Working Class Hero – The Definitive Lennon”, part of my Christmas Present from my beloved. That’s a present I’m really looking forward to receiving and, currently I’m listening to the “Afternoon Play: Unimaginable” (BBC Radio4) written by a journalist friend of John Lennon.

I’ve just done a quick scramble through my drafts of poems and, came across this one, a bit raw but then, it was an impromptu response to the shooting of JL … so here it is!

IN MEMORIAM

They say imagine
no more humane songs
and this at Christmas –

the fir trees baubles
weighted many-fold
like lead. He finds

his final peace
through this destruction –
no longer shall he ache

for universal love.
Crushed like a beetle
closer to Colorado

than his scouser’s home.

Perhaps gun-toting Reagan
will sleep in peace, relieved
at another “pinko’s” demise.

Malcolm Evison – 9 December 1980

A Few Tired Words

As unsolicited fatigue once more preoccupies my day, on both a physical and emotional plane, I find myself wondering whether I have anything to say. The cynic in me says, “who cares?”, as he recalls the fruitless political activism, spiritual questing, striving to put the world to rights, of my earlier years. Although I still hold dear the same social, political and spiritual aspirations, I no longer have the stamina to don my sackcloth and ashes and get out there where it’s all not happening!

One begins to wonder how long they must cope with interminable dis-ease filled days. At least I have the sense to realize just how fortunate I am, to have a roof over my head, food on the table and, warm clothing on my back. Even the pains, I frequently feel in joints and muscles, are usually tolerable; the real dispiriting factor is the lack of stamina and, inability to concentrate for any sustained period.

My good fortune extends even further when I acknowledge all the love I receive from friends and family and, especially from ma belle Helene. Perhaps the hardest part of not being ‘well’, is recognition of the stress it causes those who are concerned and care about you. Secondary to that, is the sense of guilt one has, on occasion veering towards the tearful, at not having any results to show for the passing of yet another day.

Tomorrow, I’m due for another session of acupuncture and, insofar as it means that someone is attempting to do something about my condition, I look forward to it!

The Victor recognizes the Truth

“People in this country are crying out for a Conservative party that is decent, reasonable, sensible, commonsense, and in it for the long term of this country. And that is the party we are going to build, and I want everyone to join in.” – David Cameron, 6 December 2005

It really does me good to find that the new Tory leader admits that his party is neither decent, reasonable, nor sensible or commonsense … I’ve known that for a long time!