Letter to Rebecca #24-16
A heatwave, terrible "music", and why I've shelved Jane Austen
Terry touches on tube travels, crosswords, and Hazlitt: a veritable culturefest in one missive. Chortle.
Dear Rebecca
Thank you for your chortlesome and well-researched letter. You started off talking about whether weâre having a heatwave. Well, I think we are, and I donât like it. Itâs unnatural. July in England is supposed to be soggy, wet, depressing: my kind of weather.
I thought Iâd try and find a suitable song to play for you, and came across this:
Isnât that dreadful? And then I happened upon this:
Whatâs the link between these two âmusicalâ videos? The fact that theyâre so awful. No wonder the teens of the 1950s and 1960s rebelled. Iâm surprised there wasnât a wholesale insurrection. I mean, imagine going through the formative years of your life having to listen to this rubbish. Arenât you glad you were born when you were?
Out of interest, which music era do you like the best? I predict it is the 1980s, with possibly a bit of the late 70s thrown in. Am I right, or am I right?
I liked reading about the tube challenge you mentioned. I used to enjoy going on buses everywhere. There used to be a thing called a Red Rover, which allowed you to go all over the London Bus network on red buses, all day long. There was also a Green Rover (green buses, which went around the countryside) and a Twin Rover (red buses and the tube). Happy days!
I solved your crossword clue straight away. It was:
Vitality in appalling gag done about mate with ewe (3-2-3-2)
And the answer was get up and go. I realised it was, in part, an anagram of âgag doneâ, because of the word âappallingâ, which indicated an anagram. But I couldnât quite make it work, until you reminded me that âtupâ is the male counterpart of âeweâ. Thanks! I do sometimes find that I get the answer very quickly, but then have to work it backwards to find out why! Does that happen to you?
OK, my turn, and this time I will give you two interlocking clues from todayâs Times Quick Cryptic. Put your thinking cap on:
1 Across: Vermeer somehow encapsulates love, always (8).
1 Down: Every single train failing to start (4).
These intersect on the first letter, as shown here:
I, too, am a âchronic completionistâ when it comes to books, even books I donât like. However, I have found a way of stopping reading them without feeling guilty. I simply tell myself that I have postponed my reading of them, and promise to come back to them later.
I liked the online review you cited: âI bought this to dry my dog. Heâs dry.â Excellent. I tend not to take much notice of online reviews because they all contradict each other. I look for: how many reviews there are in total, how many of them have 5 stars, and how many one star reviews there are, then I read a few of the one star reviews. Then I buy the thing anyway.
As for Jane Austen, Iâve shelved her for a while (sorry about the pun). I find them enjoyable, but after a while I get fed up with all these women falling in love at first sight and all the sighing and angst that goes along with that. Things would go a lot better for them if they took some Rescue Remedy or went to an encounter group.
I picked up a used copy of this book recently on my peregrinations around the metropolis:
Iâd read quotes by Hazlitt while studying English Literature at college, but never read any of his essays. (I still havenât.) Iâve dipped into a few of them. One that intrigues me is about the difference between writing and speaking. Iâll let you know what I think of it at some point.
Thatâs it from me, Becks. Donât bother getting in touch until youâve solved both of those crossword clues. <Snigger.>
Bye for now!
Dr Tel
To anyone reading this missive, you can see the whole archive here. Rebecca should reply next Wednesday, so make sure you donât miss that by subscribing to hers.
Thanks for reading!
I don't know if the music is all that bad, so much as almost alien if you were born after 1960 - 'pop' as it became rock and a bit serious had its faults, but is got me going when I was a kid, and I still find myself returning to the likes of Caravan, Camel and Genesis (when Peter Gabriel nicked his wife's frock and put a fox-head mask on). Mind you, I only discovered that because the Sex Pistols swore at Bill Grundy on TV (having seen him, you can't blame them) and the arrival of punk rock alerted me to this thing called music. My mum seemed uninterested in music and we only had Radio 4, so early listening was confined to music in films and TV (which is possibly why a lot of prog rock made sense - soundtracks with rock guitars?). The 80's and 90's passed me by - DIY cassettes and tiny pub back rooms with bands no-one remembers for me, desperately trying to play guitar (still can't) - but I do like the way that the internet means you can find most anything to listen to now. Al Bowlly singing 'The Very Thought Of You' melts the heart. Well, it does mine.
I also remember Red Rovers - being able to go all over London on any number of buses and discovering what the outlying bits of the City were like. I never knew you could get green or red and green ones, though - Green buses were the ones that took you out of town, to Harlow or Southend if you lived my side of London.
Jane Austen's alright - very sarky if you ask me - and if was Mr Bennett I would have locked myself in the library permanently, never to emerge.
You're right about the dreadful music. đŹ