Is the Joy of Nostalgia
Just a clean white curtain
On a dirty window
And if you were back there again
Would you hate it
With a bigger passion
Then the first time round
Or maybe it really was as good as it seemed
And the world got worse
And not better
And nostalgia is all
Some people will have
To keep them warm at night
But in the experiences of today
We can make the memories of tomorrow
And the Joy of Nostalgia
All over again.
If you are old and you are a piece of furniture – you’re vintage
If you are old and you are a book – you’re classic
If you are old and you are jewellary -you’re antique
But if you are old and you are human – you’re just old
Abolish Ageism
The look of books
Aesthetics
Cover, size, look of print,size of print, font type
Light, medium or dark print
Colour and page environment
White page, off white, slightly yellowed, very yellowed
Dirty, mouldy, unidentified stains
Food, liquid, grease, sweat, other.
The cover of books?
I’ll let someone else cover the cover.
Books are meant to be shared
An old, well used paperback or hardback
is good as long as it’s clean
The odd elusive grease stain is acceptable
Can be ignored easily
But then, when we get into food stains
of the third kind
of the oily, damp, highly coloured
sticky kind
the ones that graduate to 3D status
by that, I mean actual food stuffs
Then, my will to ignore
becomes weak.
When I was growing up
the Childrens Library was the absolute worst
for undesirable and unidentifable stains in books.
The stains were mostly food and liquids
the ones I couldn’t stomach
were the green ones
They seemed to appear regularly on the pages
Maybe it was just once
and it traumatized me enough to think
it was just snot all the way
a terrible distraction from whatever I was reading
I had a slight germ phobia
so the children’s book, story and author
had less of an impact than those
slightly alien 3D luminous green things.
The bottom line is, I thought things would get better when I graduated to The Adult Library.
Then I discovered that books for adults were a whole other ball game. Quite literally.
I used to think the joy of subtitles could only be enjoyed by three types of people
Those who are hard of hearing
Those who have varying degrees of audio processing disorder
And those who like French film noir
I discovered not many other people like them, unless it’s through necessity while watching foreign language movies but also because they distract from the movie they’re watching. I’ve always liked them and have very fond memories of them. Sometimes they stand out in my mind’s eye in favourite films more than the visuals. For me, it adds to the visuals immensely (not just because I’m hard of hearing and have a degree of audio dyslexia) but writing this, I’ve learned that I’m not alone in that thinking.
Lots of people like subtitles nowadays because a lot of actors mumble and you don’t have to be hard of hearing not to catch their words.
The very best thing about subtitles is, if you choose the hard of hearing option specifically on your DVD menu, rather than any other subtitle option, any song playing in the background, no matter if it’s below normal human hearing, will come up in the subtitles. Also whispers come up. So it’s also handy for people who have good, sharp hearing.
Also, any other noises will show up in the subtitles. Scoffing for instance. Scoffing always comes up in Netflix subtitles. He scoffed, she scoffed, they scoffed. I think that’s why I unsubscribed.
So the bottom line is, you tend to have a heads up, if you want a heads up, on everyone else who is watching the movie, in terms of knowledge, details, songs, whispers, scoffing, certainly more info, than if you don’t have subtitles. You never know, it might add more depth to the film. On the other hand, it might give you more knowledge than you desire and you may just want to watch the film without all that palaver.
The joy of muscle rub is sometimes in the rubbing
And sometimes in the topical painkiller
And sometimes in the smell
And always in the heat
The killjoy of muscle rub is often in the neglect to wash
hands
after using, before touching sensitive parts of the body.
There was a time
When photos
Didn’t trigger
Or determine
A flash fire emotion
Or a lazy sensory response
Requiring no effort.
There was a time
When the written word
Or a poignant meaningful photo
Painting a thousand words
Wasn’t replaced by a selfie
Railroading us down a pathway
Where no thought is necessary
And no imagination is required.
There was a time
When the written word could stand alone
Hold its own and speak for itself
Without that illustrated companion.
There was a time
Imagination was key
You heard that song
You had your own personal story in mind
And then you saw the video
And it was all gone, spoilt, in an instant.
Now is the time
Image is key
And photos of a certain type speak
Without need for any words at all
Would such a photo have as much to say
As a book read before bedtime
Would it keep us as warm at night?
You left the window open
So I came in
You had a light on
And it was warm.
You seem afraid
When I flutter
I do not mean
To frighten you.
I seem chaotic
Haphazard
Bouncing around
Just trying to find
Somewhere to land.
I hope we can
Co-exist peacefully.
Now, just a bit of back story
To make you less afraid.
Our larvae spend
Most of the year
In moist soil
We are food
For many animals.
We do not bite or sting
Or spread diseases.
When we do emerge
We don’t even have
Much time to eat.
We have between 10 and 15 days
To propagate the species
To love, to live
That time is precious
It’s like the lifetime
That you have.
In school playgrounds
Boys pulled off our legs
Our legs are decidious
Easily coming away
But even decidious legs
Shouldn’t be pulled away
I know that used to upset you.
We are born to fly
In open skies
I was out the other day
A cloudy, windy
September Day
When the author
Saw me in flight.
They exclaimed
It was so nice
To get a glimpse of us
Outside the confines
Of a building.
Hadn’t seen
A more graceful flyer.
It’s like we’re in slow motion
With an invisible parachute.
The author finally realised
How gentle we were
I’m glad.
Also, we don’t need to be famous.
See you next year.
I’ve been here before in this space
Between a rock and a very hard place
I don’t want to stay
Like a rat in a corner
Trapped and alone
When there’s no way out
Can we go now?
That’s two hours I’ll never get back
And I think we should scarper
Can we go now?
I’m starting to feel out of whack
This thing’s run it’s course
Can we go now?
It all seemed like the perfect dream
Turned into a nightmare scene
Looking at that clock
I swear the hands never moved
Frozen in time
It’s like watching paint dry
Can we go now?
This isn’t fun, nor is quirky
A watched pot won’t boil
Can we go now?
You said we could leave by two thirty
Let us head for the hills
Can we go now?
At first I was afraid
I was mortified
Kept thinking I could never live
Without my nine to five
But then, you put me in a home
You thought that you’d got rid of me
But I’ll be fine
It’s pay back time
So now just go
Walk out the door
You’ve locked me up now
Because I’m almost ninety four
Well, I’d rather go to bed
After t.v bingo game
If you don’t get out this instant
I’ll hit you with my zimmer frame
So yes, just go,
I’ll laugh the last
That nice male nurse will be due soon
To give another long bed bath
I cared for you- I gave you love
I gave you all my precious years
But now you happily ignore
All my tantrums and my tears
So just get out
Don’t try to weep
You put me out with all the rubbish
Threw me onto the scrap heap
But if you really want to cry
Look at my new will today
Because I’ve left every single penny
To the R.S.P.C.A
I am alive!
SEPTEMBER: How are you today?
AUGUST: I’m fine. Just wondering why you stole my thunder.
SEPTEMBER: While you were taking drugs, raising hell, getting drunk, burning the candle at both ends, being highly dysregulated, I was…
AUGUST: I don’t do drugs.
SEPTEMBER: Well, while you were doing all those other other things, I was co-0rdinating, planning.
AUGUST: Oh yes, planning, in your unique narcissistic way.
SEPTEMBER: Don’t give me grief. I’m just a month.
AUGUST: I was the one doing all the hard work in the summer season to bring you to the point of were we are now. I was the one who was supposed to be balmy, but no, here you are, once again taking the credit for all my hard work.
SEPTEMBER: Due to unforeseen circumstances, I was indeed more balmy than I expected. I’m sorry if it has caused you distress.
AUGUST: You upstaged me.
SEPTEMBER: Again, it wasn’t planned.
AUGUST: Just before you said you were a planner. You can’t have it both ways.
SEPTEMBER: : ‘The best laid plans of mice and men’
AUGUST: I think you’re jealous. I think you sabotaged me.
SEPTEMBER: Well, you can think what you like. I am what I am.
AUGUST: September should not be like June or July…or August.
SEPTEMBER: But you’re not even like August and you are August. I’m not listening anymore to your crazy ramblings.
AUGUST: Ah, you just called me crazy. You’re gaslighting me!
SEPTEMBER: The fact remains, I brought the weather that you promised.
AUGUST: But you’re supposed to bring cooler fresher weather. Why can’t you be what you’re supposed to be? Why are you always aping me?
SEPTEMBER: While imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, believe me August, I have my own signature. I have no interest in being your type of weather. It was an accident. An oversight. An anomaly.
AUGUST: Those anomalies have been happening a lot lately.
SEPTEMBER: There’s room for us both. I didn’t set out to outdo you. It just happened. I’m sorry.
AUGUST: Big of you to apologise.
SEPTEMBER: I’ve apologized twice now. I won’t be doing it again. I’ve already tried to pull it back, the weather I mean.
AUGUST: Oh please, don’t feel you have to do so on my behalf. Wouldn’t want to hold you back. I want you to be the best version of yourself.
SEPTEMBER: The best version of myself is usually a bit cooler and fresher.
I never meant to make you feel bad.
AUGUST: Yeah, I bet.
SEPTEMBER: Friends?
AUGUST: As long as you don’t keep up this heatwave crap.
SEPTEMBER: I can’t promise, but I do believe the worst is over.
AUGUST: The best, you mean. The best is over.
SEPTEMBER: Thank you for saying so. I will try to do that whole cool, fresh September thing you’re used to, just for old times sake and because I love you.
AUGUST: What? What did you just say?
SEPTEMBER: Well, you know, I love you like a brother.
AUGUST: Yes, I get it. You always keep me in the friend zone. Unlike November.
SEPTEMBER: Leave November out of it.
AUGUST: Hit a nerve I see. Well, goodbye and good luck.
SEPTEMBER: See you same time next year?
AUGUST: Perhaps not. Perhaps I’ll be unseasonably cold.
SEPTEMBER: Oh no, not 1850 all over again. Come on August, stop sulking. You love me really.
AUGUST: I’ll let November do that.
SEPTEMBER: Doesn’t have your charm.
AUGUST: Bet you say that to all the months.
Things In My Head 