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Post 288: It's not sadly about fun, it's about finding different things to do
I’ve been at pains to try and explain this. I can’t just have fun these days feeling like this. To use the often seen internet dating tautology, I am fun- loving but surely everyone is? Regular ‘Botherers’ will have noticed I’ve been knocking out two (posts) a week recently but it’ll be one a week for the forseable future because I need to try and rest and meditate more. This week I have unhelpfully taken to watching ‘The Soprano’s’©on my computer. It’s actually pretty depressing stuff but it is so beautifully acted and so real, sometimes too real and gritty, like the highly recommended ‘The Wire’ which I couldn’t keep watching. In fact they’re probably the same series, just replacing ‘gritty undercover US cop’ stereotypes©with ‘gritty US mafia’ stereotypes.©
Stereotyping exists because we can’t be arsed to try and contemplate the limitless types of people in this world (be they cops or gangsters or whatever), Stereotypes have their critics, me among them but they’re often on the money, I criticise them if they hinder people because a stereotypical characteristic causes prejudice that get’s in the way of reason but often stereotyping can be funny, for instance not all Germans can be humourless Speedo wearing sun-lounger hoggers, that’s just the men obviously,©german women either are allergic to razors ( images I found fo this raped my eyeballs) or look like Claudia Schiffer,©(any excuse) clearly they don’t but it’s funny to think they are. It’s just idiots that take this too seriously that are the problem, I’m not done generalising yet, anyone who takes anything too seriously is a problem although clearly all scousers are ‘thieving bastards’ and all French people are ‘Cheese eating surrender monkeys’ who smell faintly of garlic. This is plainly ridiculous but they’re funny to ‘faux believe’.
Anyway, back to the Sopranos – Tony Soprano©( the main character and lead gangster type is depressed and has had a few panic attack collapses so his neighbour (an Italian Dr) refers him to a shrink to talk about what’s stressing him out. The shrink is Lorraine ‘cwoffee’ Bracco©who I’m sure has been genetically engineered to be THE Italian American actress. Now obviously Tony can’t incriminate himself so he talks to her in a series of high-falluting euphemisms which refer to his nefarious activities, but Ms Bracco is under no illusions about Tony’s ‘stereotype’ activities which are given away even more by his cover story that he is a ‘waste management consultant’ – he doesn’t even have to give her a nod or a wink or say ‘bada-bing’.(coincidentally the name of the strip joint that doubles as his office)(I'm not making this up!)
What really interested me and struck a chord was his attitude to talking about things and taking Prozac to help with his mood. I, before this happened, used to be the kind of guy that could internalise problems, although I’ve always had a partner in crime with an absorbent shoulder, you know who you are! Fundamentally, like Tony Soprano, I’ve always thought this was no-ones job except my own, which is fine if you can go to the pub, have plenty to drink and laugh things off, or take solace in the tender embrace of your significant other or sweat your guts out in the gym, but now I either can’t do these or I don’t get the release from them because of how I physically feel, so in a way I can draw a tenuous parallel with how I feel and how Tony Soprano feels – of course it doesn’t help that he is always worried that someone’s going to kill him which I don’t think is one of my worries although I’m sure Oxshott is a hotspot for organised crime unlike where I used to live (in Brixton) – which was a hotspot for disorganised crime.
Anyway, there my parallels (if there were any) with Tony Soprano end, I think my point is that as much as we probably think we have to internalise problems – we shouldn’t. That’s what family, friends, therapists or anyone you can talk too are for and is why I will do anything for them.
As I’m getting a bit emotional, I was reflecting on the gig I went to at the Dome last night by playing a tune that almost reduced me to a mess last night ‘comfortably numb’ by Pink Floyd.
Months ago, a good friend of mine suggested that they would take me to see ‘The Wall’ live by Roger Waters at the Dome. I understandably don’t get to see much of Sharon and Ian now they’ve got two kids, any spare time they have is quite rightly spent with each other but naughty Sharon’s diary management fell apart this weekend – I don’t envy her trying to organise her kids and keeping Ian tethered,©Betts can be as loose a cannon as the best of them, hehe, so I was slightly gutted but not too surprised when Ian called me up to start the call with ‘I’m really sorry mate etc etc..’ It was their loss as this gig easily becomes ‘a top 5’. It’s a shame that Pink Floyd fell out but it’s good that Roger Waters©can still perform ‘The Wall’. In my eyes Pink Floyd are the kings of the ‘soaring guitar’ sound –that has been imitated the world over. I can hear Guns and Roses attempted mimicry at every turn but Waters wrote the Wall in1981 as a rock opera which signifies to me at least that this work must have been influenced (as so much is) by fundamental dissatisfaction with the world – the way capitalism, war and geopolitics seems to fill the world with death, unhappiness and suffering, that and the band were on a lot of drugs so the contrast between the happiness and bliss of their world was sharply at odds with the real ‘grim’ world. It was sh*t back in 1981 too. Anyway, that’s more than enough of my nonsense. Big thanks to Olly and his sister Camilla©for stepping in and taking me last night, it was definitely their thing. I’m on safe ground saying we all found it spellbinding and the Dome show was amazing.©
©Also, big thanks to my friends Jon and Megan©for coming to see me – I’ll never forget their spectacularwedding. Although like the tw*t I am I was expecting them next weekend so my ace housekeepers on my instruction borrowed my van to get to their other job, so we had no way of going to the pub for the usual. The day was saved when they agreed to hop in the car and nip to the brilliant Cobham Chippy then come back and eat it here. Not healthy but what a treat! And believe it or not Megan is 9 months pregnant!

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