Welcome to my blog which was meaning to begin with an esoteric discussion on mantra but has been diverted by an article listing the security costs of the London Olympic games. When I was a child I loved the Olympics, although even then it was the Athletics that meant something whereas the endless show jumping, swimming and gymnastics always seemed boring. It was then the best of amateur sport (give or take a few underhand payments). Now of course it is a bigger professional event and the athletics, Usain Bolt aside, so tainted by drugs as to not leave any real impact. The idea that hosting this absurd show is somehow meant to make the British people feel good about themselves is being promulgated so hard by the government and the BBC, that it is hard not to end up feeling hostile rather than indifferent. To then spend 24 billion pounds on turning London into a gargantuan middle-class version of the Gaza Strip seems to me to be a victory to Osama Bin Laden. Every day we are dealing with the consequences of our response to that attack in New York. Billions and billions have been spent on defending ourselves and our ways of life and travel have been changed permanently. I have often wondered how a tribe that sacrifices goats to god for comfort decides to change its policy. How many years go by with people saying, ‘Do we really have to bother?’ before the priests agree to take a year or two off, just to see what happens.
How long will we sacrifice goats to Osama?
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While family life, the visit of my youngest son and partner for the weekend, has continued around me and interrupted any schedule I have, I’ve been racking my brains for something to write about. I have been grungy with myself, under-confident and disappointed both with myself and my results. In part, smoking is something to do with this. I fear oral cancer because my lips, mouth and tongue constantly feel like they are on fire. Yet I do nothing to cut down or stop; not even imagine it.
My son made me look at the budget of the events I am planning to put on; my main earner in fact. He is right. My idea won’t work. This is quite dispiriting. I haven’t signed the contract for the Mexican band yet and my son says I should at least look to bring them down £200. Having verbally agreed the fee, I am unwilling to begin my business by going back on my word.
So far my team of volunteers have not been evidently proactive or even communicative. Is this my not making an impression or not directing them properly? Perhaps I’ve not been coherent or direct enough in my meetings.
Also this GDD creation has taken over my life and is not serving my original goal which was to make £500 a week through my writing. I think now I have to have a good look at what I’m doing and see what I can out right. This dragon hasn’t made a spectacular state to his period of pre-eminence.
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Today I have spent a fair part of the day chatting to people about football and cricket. Having shewn me how to stream free sport, my son watched India and Pakistan play cricket with me. Although I began by dissing the Olympics and the government’s desire for us to be obsessed by sport, I do have to admit to hours and days of following distant cricket matches. There’s something so soothing and relaxing about watching and listening to cricket. I used to listen in the early mornings to Test Matches from Australia with my dad, back in 1962. I was born in Headingly and I was great Yorkshire fan in my childhood when Close, Illingworth, Sharpe, Padget, Trueman…I can name them all…were the heroes. I even got the autograph of the whole team once. Then along came Boycott, the antihero who taught me that not all my role-models would be flash-harries. He was dropped for scoring a double-century too slowly. What only I could know was that I was in hospital during that innings and the longer it went on the less I worried about my upcoming operation.
These days I support India. And am sad that Dravid has retired.
Football of course is all the rage now and I watch that too. I began with Leeds and now root for Arsenal and Barcelona. Guess I just like winners.
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Someone told me the other day that they wake-up each morning either feeling like killing someone else or themselves. My own thoughts, as I observed this morning, tend to begin with the question, ‘Is there anything I have to do today?’ I suppose that compared with the majority of the human race, I am extremely fortunate in not knowing that most days I’ll have to do what I did the day before, i.e. go to work. On those occasions where I do have to do something specific, I’ll probably be immediately extraordinarily tired and reluctant to get out of bed. On the other hand if I have no need to get up, I will get up and I’ll come downstairs to meditate.
This morning there was frost on the ground and the sun was shining in the window from 7a.m. Having guilt-tripped myself about smoking last night, my small aim today was to meditate before smoking a cigarette to see if my body felt calmer without. It did. It wasn’t a spectacular meditation, they never are, but somehow still feels worth it. I still haven’t worked out what I will do today but no doubt as the day goes by I’ll find some focus or receive a phonecall or email message that suddenly gives the day direction. What I want of course is someone or something out there to come and get me. Best would be something from Chris Wafe but I’ll not make the mistake of hassling him again.
Not yet anyway.
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