Sporting occasions are bad. Or the Corbyn result, that was hard. I seem to remember (no one else does) a particularly funny tweet from the last Rugby World Cup, about the Canadian’s team’s beards. I desperately wanted to reprise it, including my ingenious hashtag. But no.
The opening ceremony was a gift. A bit like the Eurovision Song Contest. (Only not.) And the terrible truth about that event is that I don’t remember a single thing about it. Not one thing. Tweeted it the whole night. And now that’s all there is, a hole. It’s like I was never there. Not present at all.
Or Chelsea actually winning a game. Against Arsenal. Can you imagine it? I couldn’t. (The fact that I went out and did something else is irrelevant.) It was the old urge, on finding out, to taunt a few people, including the Chelsea team itself. It is my own particular addition to the genre, I like to think. (Listen to him: what an eejit.)
Or I seem to remember someone in the Department for Education saying Something Important About Testing. A minority interest, I grant you, but I so wanted to hit the button next to the man’s face, just so I could show how right-on I was. Am. Think I am.
Harder still is the amazing work of colleagues and peers (they know who they are) whose work online continues to send light into the day (albeit at very scheduled times). I hope they know.
But mostly it’s the random silly stuff and set-piece National Events that I miss. Or what Catherine Fox says about them.
Instead, I… Instead I have conversations. I look out of the window. I sit in silence. I make a lot of hot drinks. I talk to people. I make lists, tidy my desk, read, then collapse. The silence is already doing something to my brain. It’s kind of in the middle between pleasure and pain, a bit like the chill air greeting you on the first morning run or bike ride. It’s taking some getting used to, but I am finally getting to enjoy it. A bit. Not quite getting used to it. Doing Nothing. Nothing doing. Being. Being me. Here, not there. Now. Not then.
I’d write a poem about it if I were you. Or a novel.
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Strange you should say that ….
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‘Wherever you are, be all there.’ (Jim Elliot)
Willing you on with this current pursuit and hoping you decide to follow it through to its end. For who knows what lies there and what difference it will make…
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Love that quote. Thank you, A
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John Berger said that glamour is the state of being desired. Incidentally, I grow increasingly anxious about you and Josephine Corcoran and your i.cloud of attendant spirits. Virtual letters about not wasting time on virtual telegrams. Metatweeting. Where will it all end? Is there a counselling service; maybe I’ll set one up to pass the time in my twilight years. About ten years time, they start. Meantime, it was a privilege to be a guest. One of the highlights of my year so far xx
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Bless you
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Oh Anthony, how can you have such an opening sentence!! They’re not, not, not … but the tweeting about them generally is.
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Thank you. I agree, the events are great. A certain World Cup: great! But now I’m just watching and being, not double-screening. And that is great, too. A
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