Tag: lockdown

An Actual Pint

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I was going to talk about the football this evening but it was such an absolute shambles of a shit show of a result I would rather not. I’ve felt a bit hungover today and the players played as if they too went to the pub last night for the first time in five months. So I went to the pub for the first time in five months last night then. I didn’t get there until about ten o’clock after I finished work and it was already a little quieter. We sat outside in the beer garden although went inside to order a pint. Had we been earlier we would probably have had to sign in and give some details but by the time we got there it was too late and all the staff appeared shit faced enough not to care. That’s probably not very reassuring lets be honest. I’ll keep an eye on any coughs that develop.

After the first pint I started really enjoying being back in that environment. At first it felt like a slight anti-climax, but thankfully that passed. I had really wanted a pint at some point probably in May but that too passed and I didn’t really give a shit. The idea was to let the idiots all go back first and if everything appeared alright after a while, to cautiously venture in. I kind of did that, probably went back a little earlier than previously planned. In truth though I do enjoy a pub, the feel of a pint of freshly poured beer somehow always tastes better than drinking a can on the sofa. I imagine I’m not the only person out there who started to find that a little tedious.

And that’s that done now. One step closer to what we normally call normality. Maybe this is the new normal the politicians like to refer to. Such a disconcertingly ominous phrase for anyone who’s ever felt slightly paranoid about the potentially sadistic desires of their government. With this mob anything is possible, thankfully an implosion seems more likely but they’ll probably still try to ride out any wave that comes their way. So the new normal it is then. Suspect it’ll just be whatever I decide as usual. At least it was nice to get a pint in me on the way. I also made a barbecue on a wheel barrow today, I enjoyed that, I do enjoy making fire.

Road Rage

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I did something today which I like to believe was out of character. I pulled over to park on the main street of this little village and I did it in no great rush without indicating. That’s not the strange behaviour, this is a little seaside village it’s how people drive. There was a guy behind me who hooted, or claxoned as the French like to say which is such a great word, and as he drove past gave me a stare and waved his arms around. I maintained eye contact although didn’t respond but he annoyed me and I drove after him. Very quickly I realised I was ridiculous and I actually asked myself what I thought I was going to do, fight the man? I mean come one, I don’t fight people and I rarely if ever give in to road rage type behaviour. I mean I barely even bother hooting the horn, or claxon, at people. For me it’s strange behaviour and I’m not embarrassed, I more surprised and I find it amusing in it’s stupidity in a way.

For context I had been awake since three AM delivering bread and had then been doing some semi-urgent handyman work on a holiday home so was pretty tired and already in a funny mood. Also I knew instantly that the guy was a local and he thought I was some annoying tourist. For further context over July and August you can’t move in this place for the tourists wanting a bit of the white sandy beaches and castles. I love the energy and life they bring. I’ve mentioned it before but without tourists this village would be crumbling and the locals resent these visitors for their own dependence. I knew exactly what the hooting was about and I think the mans stupidity annoyed me, but then that means all that happened was that he transferred his anger on to me and I don’t want that. Incidentally I got hooted again later by another car in the same spot as I turned down into an alley that I park overnight in. I indicated but took my time turning and could see him in my mirror looking exasperated as he drove past. I enjoyed that one. It’s only early July and it’s already getting too much for them. I suspect they liked having their village back over lockdown. Insular heaven. Also two incidents suggests my driving must have been a cause and it may have been part of it but it wasn’t that bad. There’s some angry people out there. I nearly joined them for all of about four seconds. Thank god there’s always a funny side to everything. Ultimately, people are fascinating.

What’s Going On?

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It hasn’t been too much of a strain not knowing what’s going on in the world. In truth I’ve quite enjoyed it. Being oblivious of all the bullshit is quite a liberating experience. I’m not sure how I’ll feel after ten days but I suspect this will be enough of a thing to make me limit my access to news channels in the future. It hasn’t been entirely easy admittedly as there have been moments when I’ve accidentally caught sight of a headline on a website or newspaper stand, or when I’ve gone on Facebook to check my email I’ve seen a little of the first post at the top of my feed. I have found out for example that something has happened with Giselle Maxwell or whatever her name is, you see I can’t go and check, and that Prince Andrew may be in trouble again for sexually manipulating under age girls. I wonder if he’ll give another car crash interview and incriminate himself further, I also wonder whether she has gone and committed suicide yet. Even having conversations with people, I’m trying not to listen to what they say too much as if knowing the news will harm me in some way. It’s strange not being able to respond with knowledge too, I enjoy discussing events.

I discovered that the pubs opened last night. I didn’t find this out from any news source but from having actual conversations with people. I knew pubs were opening soon and part of me actually thought they already were but with my desire for a pint not what it once was I hadn’t bothered to find out anything else on the issue. Living on the main street in this little village means I get to do my best Mediterranean grandmother impression and watch out my window keeping an eye on proceedings. Generally I’m a people watcher so there is a certain pleasure in it but last night I forgot how much watching drunks walking up and down the street was once a thing, and also how quickly we forget what was once normal. In truth it’s actually quite nice to see people in the pubs and being a little drunk, as long as they’re not screaming outside my window all night I’m fine, although that’s what ear plugs are for, and I quite enjoy the streets coming to life again. I loved lockdown in a way, there was such peace and quiet, everything was so paradoxically calm while the world fell apart. But it is nice for life and jovial frivolity to return. I may have just missed it. Maybe I should go and have a pint after all, see what all the fuss is about.

Another Day, Another Ramble

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Today is one of those days in which I can’t think of anything to write about. One of those moments the mind feels stagnant. But I write everyday, there can be no excuse, 365 days won’t reach itself. Incidentally I’m definitely over six months now, maybe even seven or eight if I could be bothered to count. I just know come October I’ll have to start checking the exact date I started and try to avoid writing endlessly about how close I am to completing a year and how nice it’ll be not to have the constant thought in the back of my mind that I have to do something. Some days I enjoy it, some days I just can’t be bothered and some days I wish I had written something earlier as I’m tired and want to go to bed. Rarely I don’t enjoy it though.

I’ve still not written a poem, that was one of the things I thought would be interesting to try. I’ve not written a short story either. I can’t remember the other things I excitedly thought I may do. I think I misunderstood how my writing would go down. I don’t take the time to write creatively like that, life can be busy and I generally just give myself an hour to bash these out. I suspect this will be a little less but that’s because it’s one of those filler pieces. Yet I’m still writing.

I thought about mentioning Covid-19 and the political implications of todays relaxing of lockdown rules but I’ve been talking too much about that already recently. I even checked RT.com to see if they had anything outlandish I could talk about. They don’t seem to think too highly of Meghan Markle and I’m not entirely sure why. What ever she did to piss off the Russians is beyond me. Maybe I should have checked Al Jazeera, I could have compared their stories, RT’s stories and the BBC’s to create a balanced version of the days events. I’m sure you could add all their stories up and together they would create a reputable version. Either that or the average of what total bullshit could look like.

In personal news I’ve been fantasising about living on the canals again. This is not a new one and I nearly did it about five or six years ago until I realised I wasn’t quite ready for such a sedate life. Sounds lovely now though. Nothing against the village, but I suspect small insular communities don’t quite have enough to hold me. Not that I’ll find the opposite all along a canal. It’s times like these though that I remember how being oblivious to the same type of thing but in foreign countries and therefore foreign languages, made places seem so much nicer. There’s something lacking in forever being on the periphery though. I wonder if people come here to the white sandy beaches, castles, monasteries and walks, and think how lovely the locals are, unaware to how they really feel about outsiders. Perhaps they just resent them because they know they depend on them.

But I shouldn’t be too unfair because I don’t know everybody and I don’t know they all feel. Also nobodies really done anything directly to me it’s more that I just feel sadness at witnessing such a beautiful little area stifled by idiots who can’t see outside of this tiny little whole universe of theirs. And I’m judging people I don’t really know again which I shouldn’t be because it’s unfair and that just makes me a dick. It’s just the frustration that’s all. This place just isn’t the best version of itself it could be. But then what and who is.

A Bright Sun Shining Day

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This sunshine is really starting to become a positive factor in life. April was torturous stuck inside while we embraced another new the hottest month on record from our living rooms and through our windows. But now that we’re all free(ish) it’s time to get out there and live again. I usually tell people I meet abroad that the best time to visit Scotland is April and May but that usually one of them is sunny and the other raining. This year it seems to be a bit of both, both sunny that is. It’s also worth remembering it’s nearly June. It’s also a bit shocking then that we have had this virus running about since March, over two months ago. Maybe some will disagree but it doesn’t feel like it’s dragged, we now have a new normal and I didn’t even see it coming.

It is scary in how easily we can just get used to new conditions in our lives, how society can become something completely different and we just get on with it. It can’t be a surprise to anyone that dictatorships slowing ebb into creation out of once semi-healthy societies. This new normal the Health Secretary was talking about. On the other hand it’s also a wonderful thing because there is something incredible in our collective ability to adapt. I’m sure it’s less our brains that have helped humans survive and thrive until this point than our ability to adapt to new events and circumstance. That ability could though be down to our big brains. Although it would also be our ability to adapt that gave our brains the chance to develop and become big in the first place. So like usual it’s a little bit of everything and I’m risking going both back and forth, and in a circle at the same time.

It would be impossible to mention all this glorious weather without mentioning climate change of course. It’s not impossible but it’s not always easy to sit there enjoying all this sunshine and warmth, remembering that it wasn’t always this way. Beautiful though it is it’s also probably going to kill us all and those big brains won’t be much use then. That was probably an unnecessary downer but it’s always such an effort to find that balance between downer and realism, unless realism is the downer. I’m sure we’ll be able to adapt, we’ll find a way. It’s just a shame we’ll have to adapt and leave this beautiful world behind to survive in a world of floods, deserts and food crisis’. I will say though it does make me want to drink cider. Lots of lovely cold cider.

The Fall Of The Puppet Master

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If it feels like the word hypocrisy should originate with a character from Greek antiquity, I wonder what word will be born out of Dominic Cummings and used freely two thousand years from now. Traveling two hundred and sixty miles from London to Durham while the country was in Lockdown. Traveling during Lockdown when suspected of having the actual virus. Ignoring the guidelines he himself helped draw up. Shining a light on people not following the very rules they are so content for fining others for. A fine for sitting alone in the park while not displaying any symptoms, but according to Tory HQ his actions were ‘in line’ with the guidelines. Apparently his trip was ‘essential’ as he needed to be nearer family for the purposes of childcare were he to get ill. The dates given for the trip and statements from the Tory party at the time suggest he already had it when he traveled. Official guidelines state that if you display any symptoms you should self-isolate for seven days and not even leave the house for essential supplies. Well he left the house alright. According to the official party statement too he was at no point spoken to by police as is being reported. It’s just unfortunate that the reports are from official statements made by the Durham police Commissioner.

The party spin machine will be going into full overdrive with this. Under no circumstances can Dominic Cummings be forced to quit. This isn’t just some dispensible advisor, this is the man seen by many to be pulling the strings. Let’s be honest right now and agree Boris Johnson is no leader, he is running diddly squat. For Cummings to quit would bring down this government ultimately. Not immediately in the next month but very possibly by the end of the year. He is that important. That is why the likelihood of him falling on his sword is so slim. That is in comparison the former Scottish Chief Medical Officer Catherine Calderwood who fell on hers after twice visiting her family home in Fife just over the Firth of Forth from Edinburgh. That is also in comparison to leading scientist and government advisor Professor Neil Ferguson who also fell on his after a woman he was having an affair with came around to his house for a visit. There is clearly precedent. Precedent the Tory Party gleefully called for when it suited them but one they seem determined to ignore this time around. If there’s anything we’ve seen so far from this lot is their usual tactic is to try and ride anything and everything out. I suspect this may be the same, the consequences being just too large. It’ll at least be nice to watch them squirm for a bit. and if anything it will make a great Greek tragedy a few years down the line.

Der Fußball

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And with a bang the football has returned. Well kind of a bang, if a bang was quiet enough you could hear people talking and clapping over it. Football is weird without fans in the stadium. There is just no doubt about it. No debate. Before lockdown when people didn’t really seem to understand much, I was just hoping it would stay going for one extra week because my two teams Manchester United and Celtic were playing Tottenham and Rangers respectively, both of whom are rivals and were in poor form. It was perfect timing. But then it became awful timing. The football was cancelled and lives have felt hollow since. Now today was the first day of the second part of the German Bundesliga and we can all rejoice once more.

Well kind of rejoice because English football is probably a month away still and Scottish football will most likely get cancelled. Saying that Celtic will be crowned Champions for the ninth season in a row and then only one title off the Holy Grail of ten straight titles. If getting nine feels like an anti climax to some, it will be saved up for the ten in a row parties to come. In England Liverpool will win the league for the first time in thirty years. I like to think I’m a semi sensible and rational man but I passionately loathe Liverpool and everything about them, it’s the same with Rangers in Scotland. This is the best possible way for them to win the league, a complete anti-climax with no supporters and no excitement. Fuck them, couldn’t have happened to a more horrible bunch of c***s.

But yes, no domestic British football yet, so it’ll be the German Bundesliga for now. No fans, which as I said is weird but there were other aspects I would never have thought of. The substitutes and coaches are spread out with two metres between. The players can’t celebrate together which looked very disconnected and unnatural. Some did but on the whole it was controlled despite the close contact in every other element of the match. I would like to see how contained they would be if one of them scores a last minute winner in the cup final. Disinfected balls. Ball boys keeping distance. Audible claps and shouts. At least you get the interesting aspect of being able to hear what the players are saying to each other and how they interact. That’s not something you normally get probably for good reason. But it’s returned and while I’m not pushing for lockdown to be eased in an irresponsible way, I would selfishly love the return of football properly. I just miss the thrill and excitement. I can’t even imagine how good it would be to watch a game in the pub with a few pints but I’ll resist dreaming of that for now as I’m just teasing myself. It’s one step in the right direction at least.

Life’s Twists & Turns

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I was going to talk about something important, as always, but I’m currently wallowing in the post breakfast euphoria of this…

Focaccia eggy bread, with blue cheese, wild smoked salmon and a ‘garnish’ of rocket

I’m so painfully middle class I’m not even fighting it anymore. I also managed to remember that I was going to talk about different and uncontrollable paths in life. I realised last night that had this virus not become a thing I would have just been departing an Easyjet flight from Edinburgh to Athens, ready to say hello to some old faces and getting excited about a summer sailing around Greek islands drinking beer and wine, and eating too much of the world’s best cuisine. Yes I just made that statement. But that was what could have been.

I’m currently making pizzas as previously mentioned. This won’t go on forever and the lifting of lockdown will have an affect upon it but at most it’ll be a summer gig until the schools go back and the tourists disappear. This was never meant to be the plan as I said but it’s just what I’m doing now. Maybe in July I’ll have had enough of it and realise I’m wasting my time but that is something for future me to deal with. The point is that we clearly can’t control life’s ever evolving patterns. We can influence certain elements of it but let’s be honest in most things we’re pretty powerless. If you can’t sail, you just do something else. You meet other people, make other bonds. And you go with that and see what happens.

The truth is that while undeniably I’m longing for a holiday sitting on a beach somewhere in the sun and waking up whenever it pleases me, I’m perfectly content with this version of existence and how it’s unfolding. Maybe something will ruin that contentment, maybe something won’t. The point is not to tell you I’m living some kind of perfect life because I’m not, there’s no such thing, but there’s a good chance the whole world is doing something completely different in this Covid-19 version of existence and I just enjoyed the fact that last night I was sitting there and had a fairly good idea of exactly what I would have been doing. That I think is a rare pleasure, and a pleasure because I’m not longing for either. If we make the most of whatever we do end up doing we’re less likely to long for anything else.

And that goes for my breakfast too. It is Sunday today and while I love to think I would be in the Koukaki district of Athens looking for some little hipster brunch place, most likely I would be grabbing a spanakopita from the first bakery I could find from the few that open on a Sunday in Greece before driving to Preveza and fixing up a boat. Yes I desire that, but I’m pretty happy with whats sitting in my belly currently too.

As I read over that I felt at one point I wanted to vomit on myself. Don’t get me wrong the sentiment about uncontrollable existence and riding it’s wave still stands. It’s just I’m painfully aware that the two possible versions of existence I know of are pretty decent and there are plenty out there who don’t even have one decent version. “If you can’t sail, you just do something else“, I mean come on, what a wanker. But I don’t feel guilty, I don’t feel bad and I don’t feel I want to give up my blue cheese, what would that achieve. I’m just aware I’m incredibly lucky. Maybe I should find a way to share my blue cheese instead.

A Confused Narrative

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This morning one of those confusing moments that don’t fit comfortably in narratives happened. I read an article on Dominic Cummings interfering with the Scientific Advisory Group for Emergencies which is supposed to be an independent group that advises government on scientific matters. They are self-described as apolitical and therefore will advise without government policy in mind, simply focusing on the purity of their advice. This is contentious because throughout this whole Covid-19 pandemic in the UK politicians have always stressed they are simply following the latest scientific advice. This scientific advice then can not be independent and uncorrupted if the Prime Ministers Chief Advisor and the man actually suspected of being in charge has also been sitting in on and interfering with these meetings. This would imply that the independent advice these politicians are following is in fact their own advice just repackaged in a lab coat. The article goes on to criticise Cummings for interfering and while government says it is normal for advisors to observe, it is actually anything but and Cummings was doing anything but observe.

Now then where is this issue with narrative and why the cold sweat as I realised I didn’t know which box to fit this all in. The government has been accused repeatedly of dithering and being too slow in shutting down major events and the country on the whole. This is not an inaccurate statement to make. As would be the one that they prioritised the economy over peoples lives. Cummings is criticised for accusations that he believed attempting to create some kind of herd immunity would be the best plan even if it meant some people would die. The article also suggests that he was pushing the scientists to recommend the country go into lockdown. He is criticised in the piece for doing this and accused of interfering and manipulating the situation. Ultimately it appears to be a critical piece on him and Bloomberg Press is a centrist organisation so any political leanings are not immediately obvious.

Which leads to my confusion. He has been criticised for interfering. The government have been criticised for being too slow. His interfering was to push for the country to go into lockdown. The Government though never appeared overly keen on shutting everything down. If he wanted the country shut down it doesn’t tally with his desire for herd immunity. The piece could therefore be an attempt to portray him as the man responsible for saving the day and implementing lockdown but it criticises him throughout. Critical for herd immunity and for interfering to achieve lockdown seems in my eyes to be contradictory. Narratives have been blown wide open and I have no idea what is going on. I’m having to think independently of pre-conceived ideas and it hurts. Lazy journalism? Confusing reality? Narratives accidentally being crossed? Me lost? At least one of those is true. Potentially all of them. Probably all of them.

When Will Saturday Come

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It’s Saturday. Thought I would stumble out of bed a little hung over, not too much, just a enough to create edge. Have my breakfast which is more relaxed than the mid week one but fundamentally the same, I leave the dirty sexy breakfast for a Sunday. While eating plan all the semi-productive things I would like to accomplish for the day before leaving for the supermarket, ticking that off the list but being exhausted enough upon return that the list get scrumpled up and thrown in the fire which I made to sit in front of feeling like a wild man as the football results come in. Secretly I’ve quite enjoyed this lockdown, mainly because I’ve not really been locked down I imagine, but there are certain old habits and routines I miss. I enjoyed those semi-busy Saturdays. I long for the return of the football. And I’m currently not in the same house as the fireplace unfortunately. If that all sounds hard then don’t even get me started on the pleasures of a Sunday morning drinking coffee and reading the newspapers as my dog sits beside me and I’m surrounded by countryside. It’s pointless longing for things we cannot have but it’s good to be able to see the things we really value when they’re not there. I quite fancy a pint as well. Don’t give a shit about much us though. Although a holiday would be nice.

I miss my dog. She lives with may parents these days which is good for her because they live in the countryside and it forces them to go on walks everyday. People don’t appreciate the value of pets I don’t think. I can’t see her at the moment though because while I deliver food to my parents, I don’t let her see me because I won’t be staying and she won’t understand why I’m leaving so quickly after coming back. Poor girl. Poor me too. There are going to be some parties when this is all done. It’ll be a while until the pubs are open I reckon and people will be warned off getting together too much too soon but lets be honest, folk are going to go wild. We’re like school children at the best of times let alone when we’ve been stuck inside, away from everyone, sober and being healthy for what must feel like an eternity. I can’t wait for the outcry from the media, front pages of people having fun. Probably the same papers which will be a week earlier pushing for the end of restrictions. Theres nothing like a short memory.

I’m tired today. I was woken up early and now I need to go to work. I’m attempting to write this early now instead of tonight when I get in. It’s strange, sometimes late at night I get my best ideas. Maybe I should give up on being a morning person and accept life as a night owl. They usually seem happy. A little white and sickly maybe, but happy enough. But not tonight, this is certainly not going to be an old Saturday night. When I’m tucked up in my bed before midnight I guarantee there’ll be no nostalgia from me. I love you all. I’ll see you tomorrow. Fresh, awake, invigorated, just like an awful morning person should be.