Thursday, 29 March 2012

Yesterday


Once more, once less.  Another day dawns on the fantasy world of Tom Stephenson, and drenches it in disconcertingly unseasonal sunshine.

Of all the landmarks over a 900 and something blog-post career, Sarah's sign-up announcement of only yesterday (yes, it's that word again) will stand out as a mile-stone on the blogger's path - a path which is about to sharply diverge for her, if it all works out as it should.

Those of us who care little for cushion-covers and cup-cakes, live in towns and do not run a vegetable garden from our window boxes, must once again ask ourselves why on earth we type away on here during the time when we really should be doing something else.

I am now reduced to hoping that my attempts at being amusing may be noticed by the editor of Saga magazine, but consistent and relentless use of bad language has put paid to that, and publicly abusing Richard Ingrams by calling him a boring old fart has also scuppered any slim chance of contributing to The Oldie as well.  When did I say that?  Just now, of course.  Aren't you paying attention?

Also, the sort of things that happen to me on holiday are enough to put your average pensioner off travelling outside of the Home Counties for what's left of their miserable lives, so would not boost the revenue from the holiday promotional advertising of Saga at all.

I walked - not unusually - into the pub last saturday to find that a bunch of the younger bar-staff and regulars had pulled out an advertising flyer for car-insurance provided by Saga and left it close to the spot where I normally place myself at the bar, marked for my attention.  Very funny.  Little did they know that I used to insure my car through Saga - about 11 years ago.  I changed to a less ageist broker because the premium price actually rose as one got older, and the grey pounds became greater commensurate with hair colour.

The worst aspect of Sarah's impending literary success is that she will probably be forbidden to post any of her evocative and captivating pieces here on Blogland, for fear of breaching the contractual obligations imposed by her publisher.  They would probably allow her to tell everyone what she ate for breakfast on Twitter, but only if she keeps the account totally free from poetry and just sticks to the facts - even if they are lies.

It has, in the past, occurred to me that the bronze antiquity shown above may have been the inspiration for 'On The Waterfront' - some of those Hollywood film producers were more literate than we give them credit for.

There is nothing sadder than a washed-up fighter who has had all the tomorrows knocked out of him before achieving the success that he knew he was capable of.

"I could have been a contender".


(Note - this post (like many others) is a light-hearted joke!  Don't take me seriously.  My glass is, always has been and always will be half full!)


20 comments:

  1. Oh thank heavens for that! (Re your last para) I was beginning to feel really, really bad. Apparently the publisher is more than happy for me to keep blogging along. They reckon it all adds to marketing etc etc.

    If it helps, I'm going fishing tomorrow with Old Salt. If the salmon are running, and I hear they are everywhere, I'll tell you all about how hooking salmon makes me feel like Ernest Friggin Hemingway.

    Yours is my favourite blog by the way, as of yesterday. No really, seriously. It is.

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    1. I thought it was best to put the footnote on, just in case anyone called the Samaritans for me. In reality, I rejoice in well-deserved success (unlike Gore Vidal) and every day, I look forward to my own little successes. My biggest problem is, in fact, being overly optimistic.

      Your favourite blog? That's nice. I always knew flattery worked! (Only joking - again - I am really pleased!)

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  2. Why am I disappointed that you were only joking?
    (I know, I'm sick.)
    Love the contender line. Love. It.

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    1. I am disappointed too, believe me, Cathy. If I was serious, I would have achieved so much more than I already have. I am just not DRIVEN, like all unusual people. I am quite happy sitting and staring at a wall (that's why I like Brismod's posts so much).

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    2. By which I mean that I am not 'unusual' just in case you get the wrong idea. Well, not more unusual that most chicken-stranglers I know.... or Tom Jones, my father.

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    3. ooxxoxoxo... you are way too cute.

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  3. You're the J.P. Donleavy of your era, Tom. You just need to rise above any inclination to write a book.

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    1. I've already achieved that rising above stuff, all I need to do now is buy a couple of Wolf-Hounds. I feel more akin to Spike Milligan than JP.

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    2. Sarah Milligan more like!

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    3. Ha ha! I like Sarah Milligan!

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  4. Beautiful patina... more than I can say for the base. It looks like either an oversized shoe, or an early thunder box!

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    1. The patina - like the base - is modern, though well done. Have you seen it in the 'flesh'? All the little scars that have been acquired by the boxer over his life are set in another, paler metal, like brass. Look at a close-up, and marvel at the detail of the pathetic figure. You can still watch modern boxers looking up to their seconds now, with the same destroyed look on their desperate faces.

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  5. Keep in half full Tom - don't give in to the Saga adverts for stair lifts, walk in baths and other such ageing fripperies. I fully intend to go out with all flags flying.

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  6. I agree with Cro - he looks like he's sitting on the loo. Perhaps he was the inspiration for Peter Rogers film 'Carry On At Your Convenience' too.

    Perfectly natural Tom to look at our own progress when someone talented like Sarah leaps ahead (into the stratosphere as far as I'm concerned).

    You make (some) people smile which is reason enough to plod on writing your thoughts...

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    1. Forget the base, and concentrate on the general demeanour. It's a shame his semi-precious eyes are missing, but there again, that could be said of most of us.

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  7. Well! why shall I over-stuff my comment with so many words, when one word can suffice- Masterpiece. Hope you draw some inspiration from this particular word and keep up the good working you have been doing.

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    1. Actually, that is so kind, that I suddenly feel like looking up how I can get coupons for zipcodes, but I am going to resist.

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