Reply #26

Flooding, apostrophes, clamping down and memoir, though not in that order

Dear Rebecca

Thank you for your recent letter:

112. A letter to Terry ✒️ #26

Before I get to that, I should like to ask you: what do you think of the fact that we have now reached the one year anniversary of our correspondence? I know this because virtually all of your emails mention it. It's getting beyond a joke. I don't know how you managed it, but the other day I opened the newspaper and, as always, turned first to the horoscope page. It read:

Cancer: You will soon be celebrating a major achievement, and it is a time for consolidating recent friendships, especially with letter writers whose initials are RH.

Terry reading the newspaper, by Terry Freedman

Anyway, thank you for including the clip of Colin Firth. The last time I entered the sea, half the water spilled out. The local authority even put up this notice as a result:

Photo by Terry Freedman

You read about those floods, right? I really need to lose some weight. I've decided to start exercising again by using a larger mug for my tea. Well, it's not much but every bit of weightlifting helps I think.

You like audiobooks then? I would love to like them, but when I read a book I start to think about what I've just read. When I do that while listening, upon coming back to it I realise I've missed the last X minutes, so I then spend ages trying to find where I was. I usually go to just before I went off on a daydream, and when it reaches that point I start to think,

I must concentrate this time, because this is where I went off in a daydream.

Lo and behold, the same thing happens. Thus I enter an audiobook version of Groundhog Day, trapped in a time loop which ends only when I give up. The last time I used an audiobook Elaine found me slumped in a chair hours later, eyes glazed, muttering, "must concentrate, time loop". It took me four hours to read one page.

On the subject of books, do you like memoir? I'm booked on to a course called "Speak, memory: the rise of the memoir”. (I deduced, incidentally, that the title is clearly derived from the title of Nabokov's autobiography: Speak, memory. Although, strangely, Nabokov is not mentioned in the course description and is not one of the authors covered.) Anyway, I'm half-inclined to cancel, but I thought I'd borrow a couple of the books from the library to see if I'd be able to tolerate them for a whole term. Here's the list --  have you read any of them, and if so what did you think?

I wish to avoid having to read any "misery memoirs", that category consisting of books packed with one sobfest after another. If you tell me that any of those brought a tear to your eyes, I will cancel my course immediately. You see, Rebecca, real men don't spend their time ruminating on deep matters.

I recently read a Scottish short story called Its colours they are fine, by Alan Spence, and in one scene this big, burly, drunk Glaswegian shows a bit of affection towards his equally big, burly and drunk mates:

Robert handed him a quarter bottle of whisky.

‘Have a wee snifter.’

‘Hanks Robert. He sipped some and shuddered, screwing up his face. Then he shook hands lingeringly with each of them, telling them they were the greatest.

‘Ah fancy some chips’, said Robert.

Now, isn't that so much more fun than a sobfest?

Regarding apostrophes, I get fed up -- I hope you don't mind my being frank here, Becks -- I get fed up with people who moan about apostrophes but do nothing about them. I have put together The Freedperson Portable Apostrophe Correction Kit. It consists of a fold-up extendable ladder for when the errant grammar is high up, an indelible ink marker, gaffer tape and industrial-strength eraser. This goes with me everywhere. Next time you and Jim come to London I'll take you to see all the posters, notices and street names that have been corrected by Yours Truly.

One last thing. The local authorities in London are, quite literally, clamping down on illegal parking. But they no longer clamp cars — they clamp the drivers:

Well, I hope this epistle has met the standard required for a one year anniversary. Perhaps we should ask our readers which themes they liked the best. Wot do you think?

To anyone who has virtually steamed open this letter, catch up with Rebecca’s reply (next Wednesday) by subscribing to her newsletter now. Rebecca muses about getting lost, getting arty and getting old. She is one of the best writers on Substack, and her articles are always rich in terms of illustrations and incisiveness.

Dear Reader, I'm lost

I hope you’ve enjoyed this chortlefest. Do leave a comment or two.