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Hoses of the Holy in the Parallel Universe

April 04, 2005

Look homeward, angel

Pope! Pope! POPE!!

God, how I wish I still had my celebrity shares. I had millions of Pope shares! I'd have been as rich as Bill Gates by now.

The Ladyprince Diana(r) idol-worshipping side of me thinks, begorra, I remember my school friend Russ making a joke about the Pope - "it is an aboooominaaaation". Blimey, I was still at school when he became Pope.

Indeed, if the next Pope holds his position for that long, and I live to the traditional age of 65 for men in my father's family I shan't see the next Pope die.

I've been getting depressed a lot recently. Just the usual feeling that I've wasted my life, that it's gone by now, and that all the things I care about (and even the things I'm not really that bothered about) are eroding away and getting replaced with things that I despise.

It's kinda like home sickness. And yes, "nostalgia" is derived from the Greek for "home sickness". I don't feel that I belong in my own life even. It all feels alien, including me. The person I see in the mirror isn't the person I expect to see.

Anyway, I was alright over the weekend until I watched Grease on TV. Couldn't believe how old it looked - the colours and film quality (scratchy blurry artifacts) - and that kinda depressed me. That bit at the end where they leave school and it is full of hope for their futures. And yet you know if you could roll forward twenty-odd years you would see that they had all become overweight no-hope wage-slavers. Sad. And dark.

And that's not all. I took my son to Wollaton Park yesterday morning. We had a great time: football, swings, deer, deep dark woods, running, and an ice cream each.

But we walked into some woods near the golf course and I had an awful flashback and realisation. I felt nauseous with the sheer vertigo of the realisation. I remembered the last time I went into those woods. It was a lovely August day in 1984.

I went there for a picnic with Elizabeth Ford. I was 20. She was 18. She was going off to the Guildhall School of Music and Drama to study Piano in September, so at the back of my mind I knew we were doomed. But she was lovely and clever, it was sunny and we had the entire day to ourselves.

And she gave me one of the most perfect days of my life.


She doesn't exist anymore. The person I was then, doesn't exist anymore. And already I can feel the memory of that day eroding. I couldn't have imagined on that day that I would return to the spot 21 years later or how different things would be. I still thought then that both of us would have a life in music...

Anyway. On a lighter note... Bob, you still got the Trembling Pope?


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