A weird thing happened today. I met another Gary Moore. A real one, in Gateshead. So there are (at least) two of us.
He seems to be a nice bloke too.
A weird thing happened today. I met another Gary Moore. A real one, in Gateshead. So there are (at least) two of us.
He seems to be a nice bloke too.
Happy Birthday, Mark Luke. I should say that Mr Luke and I share the same birthday. Which is tomorrow. Although, once more, I should say that I stopped having birthdays quite a few years ago.
Mark is a very nice bloke, by the way. But we have an annual ritual where we both try to sent the first happy birthday text. And he’s won the past three years’ competition. I’m aiming to stay awake until 00:01 this evening in an attempt to sent the first happy birthday text. Me resolution is strong and I have Gin (a birthday present from my youngest child) to help me stay awake.
I need assistance in staying awake because my second in command had booked a table at the Painted Elephant in town. Where we had very nice, and overly filling, food. We both had pea and mint soup as a starter and I must say that I’d happily have had a second bowl for a main course. My childhood memories of gloopy home made soup have now been dispelled.
Everything else was lovely too. My second in command had a new take on chilli (I don’t recall the name of the dish) and I had Turkish Delight, a spicy lentil dish (in an aubergine with the best ever roast potatoes).
I’d wanted to go there since it opened, so my second in command gets a lot of points for booking tonight. There will be multiple return visits.
Oh, I shall send you a link to this at midnight; happy birthday Mark.
A league of extraordinary gentlemen. Had a great night in Washington with old gentlemen.
Father Jack is no longer with us. Sadly, Frank Kelly passed away today. If there was a God, which there obviously isn’t, one would connect the date to the passing of Father Ted himself. So sad though.
For a minute or two, just listen and appreciate.
… another weary day year.
While on the bus home from work this evening, waking from my slumber not far from my stop, a man sitting opposite engaged me in conversation.
Slurring heavily, he asked if I was on my way to work. I replied in the negative, stating that i’d finished for the day. He said that I was fortunate, finishing so early. Noticing my confusion, he said, you’re not a doorman?
Again, I said not. He was quite apologetic, but commented that I had a nice coat.
My temporary companion appeared not to recall our very similar bus conversation of an evening around last Christmas. Perhaps we shall meet again next year.
Not many people know that I’m a graduate. Or that I have two degrees. My first was in psychology. And I have to say that this (and perhaps, more so, my old counselling qualification) was of use this evening.
After a pretty stressful day, I called off at my local for a drink. One drink.
It was pretty empty, a bloke was leaving as I arrived – I think I know him. He said hello as he left. That left me in the company of the barmaid, a man at the end of the bar (I recognised him too, but don’t know his name) and a man with a beard, sitting at a table.
I regret the fact that I’d not recognised the man with the beard as James, my former stepson. I realised as he left in what seemed like a rush. He may not have noticed me, but I hope I didn’t offend him inadvertantly. I feel bad on the off chance that I did.
I opted for a second drink and the man at the bar left soon after, leaving me alone (apart from the barmaid, that is).
Within a few minutes, a young-ish bloke arrived. He bought what looked like vodka or possibly rum and coke. He’d clearly been in a fight.
I didn’t ask his name, but talked with him at length (with the barmaid’s assistance) about avoiding making rash decisions – which he seemed to be at risk of doing.
I’d have been home much earlier, but didn’t want the responsibility associated with any bad decision he’d make.
Anyway, he left with the assurance that relationships wouldn’t be ended this evening and that, I hope, he’ll think about options available to him tomorrow. When he’d a chance to cool off; without alcohol.
I may not have made use of that first degree, and only used basic counselling skills, but I hope that our conversation has prevented, or at least delayed, any rash decisions.
I feel the need to say that I seriously believe that the UK should become a republic. Although I do appreciate that a single, joined-up republic couldn’t happen.
Not here. Which is a shame.
Usually, when socialising, I’m one of the youngest when in the company of gentlemen. This evening, though, I was the eldest. But, I should say, only by a couple and a bit years.
I’d not seen Bobby in years, or Mick in months. So the time passed pretty quickly.
And nice food interfered with the pace of conversation.
Too much catching up in just a few hours.