I need to own up to the fact that I’m now twenty. I’ve updated my age on the little ‘About Me’ biography on the side but it still feels wrong. Then again, it’s clearly a nicer number than nineteen, and not since I was ten did I have such a neatly rounded age! (Those silver linings…) And I can also continue to hone my sweeping and unfair generalisations about ‘young people these days’ – like the strange couple that approached Joshua, Niamh and me in Queens Park café this afternoon and asked for food ‘because we went to the same school’. Not actually so stupid after all: if I’d have been quicker thinking I would have given him my salad. The boy appeared to have only just begun to master the art of conversation, however, as he introduced about five topics within a short duration and then wandered off looking a little bit lost. (For ‘lost’, you may wish to read ‘stoned’ – it’s really up to you.) Oh, young people! In my day teenagers would always tip their cloth caps to their elders; for this seemingly rapid decline of civilisation, I blame the Internet.
Anyway, fun times have been a-happening since I’ve arrived back home. My birthday meal at Pizza Express has now become such a tradition that the first time it’s broken is going to be a bit of a wrench, but it’s safe for another year at least. On Saturday I went to a photography exhibition to see Paul Vickery’s work – he’s an old History teacher of mine, who has the admirable guts to fly to Brooklyn and approach gang members to ask if they’d like to be shot. (Shot on film, that is. I don’t think New York shootings are preceded by a request.) We also had Book Club on Sunday, so I got to see Saoirse and Sanna again, and – as mentioned – today was the turn of Joshua and Niamh to have their day imposed upon. There was also the final night of the London On Film Festival at the Lexi yesterday evening: a collection of short films shot in or around* London as well as live music performances from an eclectic yet talented collection of London buskers. Hurrah!
(*I say ‘around’ because one of the shorts was very clearly not filmed at any London bus stop I am aware of. Kent, perhaps…)
Oh, and finally – my current homepage photo has been stolen from Joshua, because I think it’s pretty cool. Thanks!
The best busker in London is the one with the Henry vacuum cleaner and the saxophone. I have seen him several times now, since he so often plays in the tunnel between South Kensington station and the Science Museum, which, as we all know, is my one true love.
Was he there?
No, he wasn’t, but there was a guy who turns his bike into a drum kit…
Not say? xxxxx
Yes, say xxxxx
*is clearly the best* xxxxx
Glad you’re just about managing to fill those yawning long, warm summer days. Lucky swine. Now in my day….
Any clues how to get in touch with Paul Vickery? Those photos are absolutely amazing but there doesn’t seem anywhere to comment on the site?