My Penchant for My Whirligig of Nonsense

Post LXIX

Without a shadow of doubt, this week of mine was, for the most part, incredibly dull. Like the weather of late. To say we’ve had a bit of rain is a colossal understatement. There’ve been floods, houses collapsing into culverts, lightning, hail and the blackest of morning skies. It hasn’t been pleasant. But there was one saving grace, one tiny, insignificant thing that put a huge smile on my face on this week: I saw the Google street-view car.

Now, this may seem pointless to you. You may be there in your big city where there are a myriad of things happening every five minutes. But here, in a quiet corner of the northeast of England, where the most interesting thing to happen is a pigeon race down our high street, it was magical. Unlike many, I don’t have anything against Google’s street-‘privacy, what privacy’-view, but I suspect they’ll have something against me. I stuck my tongue out at that car and legged it. Somehow, I don’t think they’ll use that take.

I wonder if the day has come whereby people are using street-view for personal reasons. Small announcements printed on shirts. ‘I have a garage sale on Tuesday!’, ‘I want a grandchild!’, ‘Use Bing!’, ‘I perform mime for bachelor parties!’ and ‘pigeon race, the high street, Friday!”. I was tempted to do something along those lines. Probably something like ‘Free Annette!’ It would make people think. Although I suspect what they may be thinking, may not be pleasant.

This all happened around the end of the week, which I admit, is a strange place to start a story. In fact, very few stories start at the end. Unless you’re not well. It wouldn’t make a great deal of sense. With that considered, the only story to start at the end that would work would be the story of Lost. There’s a reason it was called Lost. Because you were Lost.

So, from the end I’ll move to the logical place: the middle.

I spent much of the middle angrily shouting at my television. As opposed to happy shouting. Actually, that does make sense. Babies do that. Aww. With their little fingers and fumbs. Bless. Sorry, where was I? Oh yes, putting the endless job search on hold and shouting at my television. You see, the analogue signal was permanently turned off, so now all TV signals in England are digital. Which is fair enough, because it’s the 21st century. But why, why oh why, did every TV signal go off in the entire town? I wasn’t best pleased with this turn of events, or the hours it took to fix. On the plus side, I now get HD for free. On the down side, I notice absolutely no difference.

I could go into very technical details about why I lost my channels and all the television shaking I did to force it back into life, but I feel it’s best to move on and finish this story at the beginning.

I had a day out. At the park. Thankfully, the rain that was to come had stopped. The park looked resplendent as always. Of course, I wasn’t just gallivanting around the park by myself, although I don’t think many of us do that. You know, go to the park – or, gallivant. I think there’s a good reason for that. And I’d tell you that reason if I knew what gallivanting meant. Put it this way: it wasn’t a leisurely visit.

Nope, I was minding someone else’s baby.

Was it a good day? Hmm. Well, he embarrassed me in the café. He wouldn’t let me pick him up. He wouldn’t let me help him. He kept trying to poke the goats in the eye. I tried, damn it. Despite this, there were many happy moments, plus, most importantly, he gave me a smile at the end of the day, that annoyingly forgiving smile all babies have that makes you realize they’re not trying to annoy you. The annoyance he created was all in my head. After all, I overheard the elderly ladies in the park talking about me, commenting on how nice it was for someone so young to be taking his son for a trip to the park. I get that a lot, so I’m used to it. But the point was a nice one, and it put things into context. He’s just a baby.

So now, we’ve reached the logical conclusion of the story: the prologue.

I got a letter. From eye people. What are they called? Optomotrists? Optometrists? Opticons? Something like that. I often predict my week will be incredulously dull and monotonous. I really tried to start my week with a smile, though. Then that letter came. A laser-eye-surgery offer. It was painful, a reminder of something I cannot have done.

Still, the week got better. Well, it progressed in a linear fashion. And if you want to know how it got better, read this post up from the bottom. Ah, there you go.

Intriguing, my dear readers, aren’t I?

“I try to stay in a constant state of confusion just because of the expression it leaves on my face”, said American actor, producer and musician, John Christopher Depp II (b. 1963).

Peace Out :|:

(I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. To do so, you can leave a comment by pressing the bubble on the top right of this post and scroll to the bottom of the new page to where it says ‘leave a reply’. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks)

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