Despite Sunday’s night shift I slept for two hours last
night and was wide awake at one o’clock. I lay there for half an hour before
nodding off, and woke again at half past five feeling like death warmed up.
I made toast and peered into a rather dull internet. Other
than a public outpouring of grief for the actor James Earl Jones who died yesterday not a lot
was happening on Facebook. However I did have seemingly endless posts about two
1960s TV series – Captain Scarlet and The Time Tunnel. I wonder why?
I had a quick Munz, struggled with Wordle, then got ready
for work.
As I drove the pundits on the radio were also banging on
about the death of James Earl Jones. Intending no disrespect to the chap I
can't help but wonder why he and so many of his ilk are so newsworthy. Go to
any local theatre and you will find dozens of actors who are every bit as good
as the ones on the telly and in films. They do their acting for the fun of it,
don't command ridiculous wages since they do it as a hobby, and no one cries
crocodile tears when they croak. I'm sure Mr Jones gave some stunning
performances, but I'm also sure that dozens if not hundreds of other actors
could have done just as good a job for a fraction of the price. Why are
celebrity actors held in such awe by the public?
Football players are the same.
There was also a lot of talk about the government's plans
to cut the winter fuel allowance for pensioners. Apparently
the pension is going up, so what the government takes with one hand it is
giving back with the other.
I went up the motorway to the needlessly closed slip road
at junction six where I turned off and drove through Aylesford. As I drove I
was conscious of a white van being far too close behind me. It overtook me
rather dangerously on a blind corner and then being unable to go any further
carried on about ten yards in front of me tail-ending the car in front of it
for the next mile or so until recklessly swerving into a building site.
Pedestrians didn't actually dive out of its way...
I spent much of the day giggling. When I first started this
line of work many years ago one of the very first things I learned that people
who collect blood samples are called "phlebotomists". They are
known to all and sundry in the hospital as "fleabows". The
very first time I heard this I had a mental image of one of the Banana Splits
communicating via a honking horn whilst wielding a needle and syringe, and that
set me off.
This morning, years later, there was talk of "fleabows"
and that mental image came straight back.
Work was work. I took a little diversion on the way home
and popped into the Red Lion in Badlesmere where I confirmed that all was good
for next month’s geo-meet.
It was.
The plan was to then come home and take the dogs out, but
when I as home so the heavens opened. We did the “Feeding The Fish”
ritual and I wrote the web page for the October geo-meet I’d just arranged.
Dinner was rather good… it was just a shame I could hardly
stay awake.
No comments:
Post a Comment