| « On the wire | Not out of the woods yet » |
A sharp
We celebrated with a fairly spontaneous meeting down the pub. I'm not keen on it, but I bought a pint of Thatcher's cider, and we toasted her to the now familiar joke about her meeting Jimmy Savile in hell and her asking him why he was there. "For fucking minors," he says. "Yes, me too," she replies.
During the Miners' Strike, we set off from Lancaster at 5am to go to Burnley Colliery, where I enthusiastically joined in the wave of anger against the scabs, throwing half-bricks at their buses. I really wanted to injure them. I wanted to prevent them working the pits, and I wanted to hurt them, as a punishment. Nothing too bad, you know. Maybe concussion, or to see them panic with blood pumping from their strike-breaking heads.
The previous day, Trina and I had gone to see Spirit of '45, Ken Loach's lovingly sad documentary film about the way she dismantled the welfare state and our nationalised industries. The scheduling was an accident, a day after she died. Trina, a lifelong Labour supporter and canvasser, was quite affected by it, and said she was going to leave the Party.
A few months ago I picked up a card of a singing teacher. He did his postgraduate training at the RNCM in Manchester and has sung with Welsh National Opera. I explained what I'd like to do.
"i [sic] would be very happy to teach you, especially as you are interested in singing the classical repertoire. I will be able to demonstrate to you very clearly the fundamental concepts of singing and take you through as much lieder as you can manage! My phone number is [---], please give me a call tomorrow or friday if you would like to arrange a lesson."
It's £15 for half an hour, which I can only afford if I refrain from drinking for a couple of hours days at a time. It'll be a good discipline for me, trading the price of booze for a singing lesson. I wish he'd capitalise properly, but it's not a dealbreaker.
8 comments
I thought I would mark it by not marking it but am suprised by the amount of distressing thoughts it has brought up…..not least my youth lived through the reign…….am so glad I won’t be here next week!!
I think we’ll go out again while the funeral is actually going on–I won’t be able to stand seeing the coverage! Lucky you–hope it’s somewhere nice.
Who’s that with their arm around you? And the others? Are they actors in this ongoing play? Who took the photo? What a cheery looking establishment.
I just read an hilarious account of a Twitter mix-up. People are misreading the Maggie Thatcher send-up #nowthatchersdead as #NowThatChersDead, thinking the singer has passed on. Gay men everywhere are swooning.
Ha ha… that Twitter thing is really funny! Oh the confusion in boutique hotels across the world!
It’s Wilma who has her arm round me; then there’s my friend who works as a shepherd in Austria, a mutual friend of ours, then a couple I know through Erica. They met at about the same time as Trina and I did. The pub’s got some half-hearted decorations up at the moment because they’re holding an international beer festival.
i started guitar lessons about a month ago - despite the fact that i’ve been playing guitar for over 30 years. the focus, the discipline, and my desire not to disappoint my instructor have led to some rather miraculous recovery of long-dormant skills… and i’m having a blast! go forth and SING!
Yes–I also work best when someone else is motivating me and I when I want to please someone. I also want to learn good habits right from the beginning. We’ll form a classical-rock combo in a couple of years :)
Well the funeral is finished but the great and good having their lunches… London has been in some ways quiet but in others manic - more cops on the streets than during the Olympics!
Managed to avoid it pretty much. We had our own do–full report to follow.
Form is loading...
