There are probably lots of people in the world who don’t talk to me, The numbers may well have risen since I started writing this blog. I mean, I’ve heard nothing from the little man or woman or alien or robot ( don’t you just hate those websites where you have to prove you aren’t a robot by identifying photos where you can see cars or bridges or trains… I always get them wrong, then lose the will to live and give up on whatever it was I was trying to do on that site ) at the NHS since 30th April when they told me I had to “ share my staying at home experience by social media “ Well ahead of you there, chummy. 49 blogs ahead of you in fact.
Other “ vulnerable “ people have had texts telling them to stay in till July 1st. That’s making me feel neglected and persecuted. Don’t they even care about me any more ? My release date stays firm at June 30th. For the sake of a day the ship was lost. So, if I venture outside on the last day of June and am stricken down and everybody else stays in till July 1st and remains fine and dandy, then I am warning you, NHS, heads will roll. Mind you, as this is a moveable feast the date could well be changed to the 12th of Never.
On the subject of feasts, or otherwise I loved the story in The Times today of the convicted cannibal in Germany they decided to allow out for the day. He’s described as “ polite and friendly “ and met the bloke he ate on the internet. Wonder if he’s just popped out for a snack and will settle for an arm and leg this time around. Which is what they say Starbucks are going to be charging when they re-open. Seems that at his trial the convicted cannibal said that he had always dreamt of having a younger brother, “ someone who could be part of me “ I mean, literally ? He’s having to be disguised when he goes out. I hear he is wearing a grass skirt and has bones threaded into his hair so that’s definitely going to fool people. Maybe a skull and bones face-mask to finish things off nicely? Meanwhile, if he’s that recognizable and you’re wandering around the same park he is visiting in Germany you would probably want to recognize him and run a mile.
Sticking with the fast food theme…. Question… if you are a cannibal do you go out at lunchtime for a quick bite ?... seems in the States that only the drive-thru ( note the American spelling again ) Macdonalds are open for business. Some bloke was so desperate for a burger that he built himself a cardboard car and tried to walk it through the entrance. The guy in the kiosk was so amused he actually served him. The driver of the cardboard car wasn’t so amused when he tried to drive on through the car wash. I mean if he was that desperate for a burger why didn’t he pop over to Belarus to a football match. They seem to have them readily available there and all you need is a Dinamo Minsk scarf and the price of admission. Oh, and a plane to fly you there I suppose.
It’s not just the NHS who aren’t talking to me anymore. Fitbit has given up the ghost as well. Now I’m not doing my 10000 steps a day that I used to achieve with some regularity the little man who tells me my results has turned up his virtual nose in disgust ( the virtual soup and challah are still works in progress ) .Somedays I got into the high teens and on a very few occasions even got to 20,000. My Fitbit was very proud of me and send me a weekly summary on a Monday, congratulating me if I had beaten the previous week’s total or chastising me if I’d done less. It talks to me all day long. Tells me to get up and go for little walks. It is my own virtual Big Brother ( I really won’t need the Government’s app ) and unlike Mr German Cannibal I’ve no intention of eating it. Only , right now my Fitbit is throwing a tantrum. I keep a careful watch on may daily results. They’d been hovering around 6-7000 with the occasional 8000 on a Sunday after I’ve not only been on the treadmill and bike, but also mowed the lawn. Yet, when I got the weekly summary today ( it runs Monday-Monday ) all it showed was 9250. I tried to argue, tried to reason with it, shook the Fitbit, re-synced the app. Still 9250 when I know I did over 40,000 steps last week ( and that excludes Saturday, the Sabbath, when I don’t wear it. Not enough days in the lock-down to explain the logic of that I fear ) I’m giving Mr or Ms Fitbit a week to get over its hissy fit and after that it’s toast.
As I write I am referring to my scribbled notes I’ve made on what to write about. And yet again I can’t read them . So, when I saw a headline in the Times today that said, “ Can’t read your own writing? Google probably can , “ I got very excited indeed. Scribbled rapidly and illegibly something to the effect that “ Goggle can bead my wriggling “ At least I think that’s what it says. Seems the two men in the world with the worst handwriting are Prince Charles ( he didn’t do too badly with his love letter to Camilla, did he? Was going to make joke here but my wife would have censored it out so if you want to know what it was please email ) and wait for it, who do you think is that last person to expect to have awful handwriting? It’s actually Donald Trump. First of all I am truly amazed that he knows how to do joined up writing. I mean he certainly doesn’t have joined up thinking. But assuming he does, could this be the cause of all his problems, of the public misconception of him? Did his “ Dettol “ memo to his aide really say “ maybe we could try injections with meaningful fluids rather than cleaning fluids “ I mean it’s an easy mistake to make. Let’s hope The Donald can bring himself to move from Twitter to Google or maybe in this dystopian world they have become one and the same thing.
Mind you, it’s not so dystopian out there as there are loads more birds around. We have a Jay and a Woodpecker ( I’ve capitalized them as I am working on names for them ) … Derek our birdwatching neighbour got quite protective when my wife told him she had spotted them and he claimed proprietary rights over them. I think he and his group are now looking for cuckoos and there are worse things to be looking for at the moment. I’ve seen magpies . Usually. sadly, just the one. Thieving little bastard. He could bring a friend to get some joy into my life. Certainly, with less pollution and planes around our feathered friends seem to be thriving. Do you remember the days when we despised that Extinction Rebellion mob I I thought they were a new band until they blocked up Oxford Street and Marble Arch and made me late for a meeting and all I could think was don’t you have a job to go to… and now they don’t, but they do have a less polluted atmosphere, so who won after all ?
Is a bat a bird? Or a mammal ? Or just something you play cricket with. As I started to say the other day, and then got diverted, I was reading this very thinned down edition of The Cricketer on Saturday and puzzling over how bats could have started the whole Big V thing when it did occur to me that they don’t really play cricket in China, but if they did then the first poor bugger who caught the Big V could have been described an an opening batsman. Reckon minus ten billion for that one, Sam.
We often face time Sam who is still kind of enjoying his extended holiday, but is resigned to returning to school at some, as yet, undefined point in the future, before he goes to University. He proudly showed us his room. There were three different piles of school work on the floor, two from his Primary School teacher and one from his tutor. He couldn’t really give us a logical explanation though he did sort of nod when we suggested he could maybe work on the piles with a view to reducing them to one. He was very mature about it. Quite the young man which made me convinced my horse selection at Longchamps yesterday, “Young Man “, was going to win. However, as it drifted further and further out in the betting market I did remember that when you pick a horse by its name it’s usually helpful for it to have some form as well. It came nowhere.
Just like us in the zoom quiz last night. I mean does anybody know who invented the cat flap or what the Beatles where called even before they were The Quarrymen or where you can find Walter and Rowan in the East End of London? Good luck with those. Answers tomorrow.
That’s me done for another day. 50 up tomorrow if I am spared and you are spared to read it. Stay safe,