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- Post 356: The disabled don’t have a monopoly on co...
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- Post 358: I miss intercourse
- Post 359 - a placeholder because this weekend is g...
- Post 360: Nothing should be this hard
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- ▼ August 2012 (9)
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14 Aug 2012
Post 360: Nothing should be this hard
I’m sorry if it seems I complain all the time. I do try not to but it is a bit of a vain effort. I’m actually going into hospital today for another f*cking operation. They’re going to finally get rid of my pesky Gall Bladder which has meant eating a fat free diet for a couple of months. At least after today (or whenever I’ve physically recovered from this supposed ‘keyhole’ procedure) I should at least be able to get back to eating with other people again which has become one of the things I do with my life now I don’t really have one.
Seeing as fatigue is my major ‘Quality of Life’ issue, I don’t do myself any favours, especially not this weekend. I’ve decided that if I stop going to things and seeing people because I’m tired, it’ll be the beginning of the end. If people are going to continue making the effort for me, then I’ll just have to be tired, that’s the way it is. I’d planned for this operation to be after the weekend as this weekend was as important as they get.
I’m always grateful to get tickets to anything but this weekend my friends Karen and Toby
had managed to get tickets to the closing Athletics session of the Olympics. Now, I must confess to being deeply cynical about these Olympics, so convinced was I that no matter what mountain-moving effort we made the British summer would let us down and the whole world would collectively snigger at us. Well, how wrong was I? I will usually argue till the bitter end when I’m convinced I’m right but when I’m wrong, I’ll admit it. I may be pigheaded but I’m not a pig! Instead we were treated to what without Irony must have been the best Athletics session of the games. Mo Farah winning the 5000m
was just amazing and Bolt winning his third Gold Medal was pretty awesome.
Two blokes who seem to always be smiling when they are interviewed. It just feels better that you genuinely like them. Bolt is full of charisma and chat, whereas Farah seems full of humility. Very different things – I try and be full of both of them despite finding it bloody difficult to be anything like my old self these days.
I can laugh if I find things funny but I don’t know how to make my face smile.
So, after getting back from the Olympics at 1AM, I was more tired than I had ever been. Ideal preparation for the Blur Concert in Hyde Park. My concert-going mate Oli had kindly agreed to take me, and thankfully it didn’t rain as it had seeing Soundgarden a few weeks before, illustrating my point, that no-matter how compelling whatever the outdoor event ends up being ‘if it rains it’ll be shit’. Perhaps this is more acute if you’re in a wheelchair, there are few grey areas with me. 50 shades of Grey, I wish – is f*cking BLACK, if you’re in a wheelchair. When we got there New Order had just started. I’ve always been a big ‘New Order’ fan and I loved their set. The only thing that spoiled it for me was the dowdy keyboard player.
When you’re faced with a crowd of any size, it should be a great feeling – I’m all for artists concentrating. I used to worship a DJ called Sasha who’s facial expression barely changed
but he was synonymous with the music, his concentration fitted with the intensity of the music, unfortunately their keyboard player didn’t and barely acknowledged standing in front of 70,000 people – she looked like the teacher at school who’s lessons you always dreaded because she was dull, not much to look at and had no sense of humour to speak of. Not a problem when I saw them at Brixton Academy, as they didn’t have a big screen. After New Order came the undoubted low of the weekend in the form of ‘the Specials’ I took no pictures because I was too busy thinking how sh*t they were.
After them they cut to the BBC on the massive screen
and began televising a bit of the closing ceremony on the massive screen. Thankfully this didn’t last long as I’m sure it was an even bigger yawnfest than the Opening Ceremony and apparently that was good.
Luckily Blur came on before there was the slightest excuse to watch ‘malnourished spice’ and ‘mutton dressed as lamb spice’ pretend to get along and prance around miming before Roger Daltry literally got wheeled out before the inevitable ode to four Scousers. Like fans of hard house why can’t we just let it die and move on.
So, speaking of never letting things go. Blur. They were excellent. Thank goodness, the late 90s Britpop war was won by Blur, not Oasis. I’m sure anyone of the Blur boys can be as awful as Liam Gallagher but I respect them more as Musicians. Alex’s
autobiographies have done a lot to inspire the ‘Warts’n’All’ honest way I write this and even though Damon
seems to be a bit arrogant and has a bit much attitude I respect his musical creativity and genius. Starting with ‘Boys and Girls ‘ it is clear that a lot of their songs are just pure crowdpleasing goodness. ‘Parklife’ brought the house down,
so did ‘country house’. I thought their slower numbers were awesome ‘Tender’ and their new one ‘the Westway’ were a bit emotional as was Damons excellent observation about how the Olympics show off ‘what is great about humanity -self-sacrifice and graft’.
I was too knackered to do this yesterday. Right – off to hospital.