Reply to Rebecca #15

Films, London, cruelty to Terry, persiflage

Boots, by Terry Freedman

Dear Rebecca

The significance of the picture of me wearing boots (above) will become apparent through the course of this letter, so please possess yourself in patience.

Thanks very much for your delightful letter. You were very kind not to mention my schoolboy howler in my draft letter of referring to the Importance of Being Ernest. I thought it was wrong, but also thought I’d proofread later — always a mistake. Anyway, I have discovered that I’m in good company. In her recently published book “How Words Get Good”, Rebecca Lee writes:

Have I been part of a team that managed to print 20,000 copies of The Importance of Being Ernest? Speaking earnestly, I absolutely have.

For anyone who (a) lives in England and (b) has a decent television set-up, the film with Dame Edith Evans is on ITVx, which is free except that you have to register. There are bits of it on YouTube too. I’ve seen the one with Judi Dench in the role of Lady Bracknell. Although she’s a consummate actress, I think the part was well and truly stolen by Dame Edith.

One of the many quotes of Oscar Wilde that has always made me laugh is the following, about education:

The whole theory of modern education is radically unsound. Fortunately in England, at any rate, education produces no effect whatsoever.

As for the Kind Hearts and Coronets film, Alex Guinness was totally brilliant, as you said. Imagine having to learn all those parts!

I’m glad you liked John Coltrane’s rendition of My Favourite Things. I think it’s great. You may be interested to learn that a mega article I wrote about what I suppose might be called “my jazz journey” will appear here in the morning of Saturday 1st July 2023. It’s a long-ish read, with lots of nice music to listen to — that is, not a cacophony with no rhyme, rhythm or tunefulness. If you decide to listen to it, please practise saying “It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing.” You might also try out “If it don’t fit don’t force it.” These are great jazz phrases and will demonstrate to anyone within earshot that you are an aficionado.

If someone looks like they may attempt to out-jazz you, just say, “Of course, the 1954 recording has never been equalled.”

Thanks also for the Plummer obit. It made me laugh. I thought he was a great actor. I’ve seen him in a few films aside from The Sound of Musak. The best (for me) were The Scarlet and The Black, based on a true story, and The Exception.

Your mention of a black and white TV set reminded me of one I had for ages, and which I loved. I don’t have it any more, but it looked similar to this:

Old tv set seen in a shop window, by Terry Freedman

It was given to me when I was 13 by my aunt, my dad’s sister, who lived in America. Here’s a photo of her and me in Los Angeles, when I was 15:

I loved that TV because it meant I could watch the programmes I wanted to watch, in the privacy of my bedroom. What a difference between then and now, eh, when today we can carry around a multiple international channel tv set in our pockets! It could only get two or three channels, so when Channels 4 and then 5 came along it couldn’t cope. Not that I was missing much mind you. But the technology changed and in the end it couldn’t get anything.

I have given up on Puddlegate, or rather the weather here has decided we only need rain once in a blue moon, at which time it comes down like Niagara Falls. I did like that inflatable duck boat thing though. If or when the puddle emerges again I’m going to get myself one of them!

So my mentioning of the fact that I felt like resting my weary feet on a cat was an indication of terrible cruelty to animals? So let’s see. Ignoring the fact that these miscreants are eating us out of home. Let’s leave aside the fact that they don’t come in until 10 pm, at which time they crash through the cat flap demanding to be fed — immediately. And let’s not go into the business of their trying to sit on my chair just as I’m about to sit on it. What about this, which has happened in just the last few days?

1. Mocha sneezed in my face.

2. Minty sneezed over my arm and then farted in my face.

3. Willow lies on me at night so that I can’t move, or breathe for that matter.

So who is being cruel to whom? Answer me that, Becks, go on.

Thanks for link to my cafe article. I do indeed write in cafes, but also in libraries, which is where I’m penning this. Reason: a course I’m on finishes at around the evening rush hour starts. So I have a choice: spend the journey standing* and get home tired, sweaty and achievementless, or write an article, then get the train home around 2 hours later, and be able to sit down on the train, read my book and chill¹.

Today my feet are slightly more tired than usual because we went on a walking tour in London’s East End, hence the picture of me wearing walking boots. What sartorial elegance, you are no doubt thinking. One of the things we saw was this archway, which is the only thing left of a building organised by the then Lord Rothschild in order to give the poor people of the area decent living conditions:

Photo by Terry Freedman

Apparently the Jewish Chronicle columnist Chaim Bermant once wrote that when Jews prayed “The Lord will provide” they were probably referring to Lord Rothschild.

The guide mentioned a youth club that my mater belonged to as a child, and which she made me go to because I was a loner². I hated every minute of it before I was approached by someone who wanted to start a cinematography section. Until then, I’d go in, buy an orange juice, and then go out and wander around the streets until I could go home at a time my parents would be expecting me.

Well, Rebecca, looking at my watch I can see that if I leave the library now I will get a seat on the train and be early enough for a light supper and a cup of tea, after which I will use a cat as a cushion, another for my feet, and another to rest my arm on. Perhaps they have their uses after all.

All the best

Terry

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And mine please!

1. Although recently young people have insisted I sit down, even young women. I was beginning to think I must look really old and decrepit, but then Elaine pointed out to me that all the people who offer me a seat, and many of the people who offer her a seat, are from Asian countries, where they have a completely different attitude to older people*. Well, I’m not THAT old, in fact I identify as a 25 year old, but you know what I mean.

*Here’s a footnote to that footnote. I can’t recall the context, but many years ago some ancient retired general with a cut glass English accent really made me laugh when he said, “Oh yes, bump all us oldies orf**, that’s what I say. Then we’ll come back and kick you youngsters up the arse!”

** This is not a misspelling. He pronounced it like that.

2. I know this makes me sound like a kind of outcast who was unable to adjust to normal society, but I was, and am, an introvert. Youth clubs were, to me, a cruel and unusual punishment.