One half of musical duo returns to SW8, an unresolved Christmas Mystery and wishing another friend a speedy recovery
Tuesday
After a solid eight hours, with a break for some exercise, I’m about to knock things on the head for today and head out to meet a friend for an early evening coffee. On the coffee by the way, I’ve made a real good effort at coming in under my default five glasses every day, sometimes dropping as low as two. All this from a high of twenty glasses day and night during the first two lockdowns. The filler drink, Peppermint Tea, is slightly underwhelming, but it does enough to keep the coffee numbers down.
I was unable to get to swimming today, again, owing to being unable to print some stuff off needed by the leisure centre before I get my new pass. I can see trying to get into the pool being a big hurdle but the reality is I need to sort out the missing cardio. I have been for several runs since the foot injury and I do pay a heavy price for the next couple of days and end up berating myself for still running.
I had a good gig in Angel last night. There were a couple of big names on the bill. One of them is one of my favourite male comics. He’s just effortless and very funny and I always enjoy watching him. And then for the first time, I found myself gigging with a female comic I only knew by name. She was outstanding. And all she was doing was working out some new material but her bar was high.
I’ve edited another 37 minutes of this week’s When Shorts Were Short which features an interview with the youngest ever producer of LWT’s seminal ‘The Big Match’ and I’m very happy with it. It deserves big listening figures. It won’t get them. But it deserves them.
Yesterday, I took my big winter coat – I’m still stuck with it – to my aunt’s to get a button repaired. I’ve never been able to sew. It’s such a thick coat that my aunt was struggling with it so my uncle stepped in. Somehow I found it emasculating having another man, this one 84-years-old, repairing my coat.
In other octogenarian news, this is grim. I was told in THE café yesterday that Future Me, my elderly friend whom it took me about five years to finally talk to ‘back in the day’ was mugged on South Lambeth Road one evening last week and given a good going over. This is so utterly disgraceful. This 83-year-old widower now has to close out his life trying to overcome this. Another café regular was trying to see him to see how he was faring. There is, apparently, starting to be a bit of a flare up in that neck of SW8. In my nightly prayers, I asked God to help Future Me’s recovery, physical and mental, and that the perpetrators are caught. I’m not too confident on the latter.
In brighter café news, a guy I was on the way to becoming friends with a few years back before he disappeared for a few years, is back in THE café after five years abroad. He’s one half of a brilliant musical duo whose critically acclaimed work is typically ignored by most and it was good to see him again. He tells me he’s back for good.
In other news, I tried to get to the bottom of a curious Christmas Mystery I experienced this Christmas just gone. The build up to it, like Christmas, was great, but there was a very strange and disappointing denouement and I thought it would be beneficial to try and find out what exactly happened, but I’ve had no joy there.
I’m about to grab my USB hand warmers and head out, though I still haven’t tested out the heated socks.
I’ll leave that for another day. Again.
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