Update: It was Covid. I finally got a positive test some days after falling ill, which seems to be a thing with the strain currently doing the rounds, along with gender bias - the number of women I know who’ve been unwell outweigh the men 10-1. I’ve started to wonder whether we have a new Lady Covid variant on our hands. (Although, friend and follow-sufferer Victoria says: “New Lady Covid Variant are on at 3pm on the Park Stage at Glastonbury.”)
The temptation is strong to joke that, of course, women would get a variant that tests as negative for a few days so that we have to just get on with it, like we always bloody do. However, I can report that the first few days were so awful there was no question of getting on with anything - it was brutal. Advice: get the hand sanitiser back out. You really don’t want to get this version of Covid.
Anyway! Better now! How’ve you been? One at a time … good … good … oh, really?... good … no way … you didn’t?! … blimey … oh, that’s nice. Three weeks is a long time in newsletters and lots has happened at this end too.
1) I got older
I had a lovely long birthday weekend thanks to the party that the Queen threw for me. The thing with soldiers was a bit weird at gifts go - I’d have preferred vouchers - but it’s the thought that counts. Cheers Liz.
At the shop, we made ourselves a Jubilee playlist - anything with a title or band name that included queen, royal, Liz, Betty. There’s fewer tracks than you might think - not least because we had a “one song per band” rule so it’s not like we could throw in the whole of Queen’s back catalogue. So we cast the net wider: king, prince, princess; and then wider still with anything vaguely aristocratic: duke, earl, count, lady; and finally really reaching with references to platinum and diamonds. To say the list was eclectic would be something of an understatement and it certainly revealed a lot about our respective tastes in music - and our respective ages. As the oldest by some way, I found myself having to explain Prince Charming and then Adam & The Ants and their penchant for dressing up as dandy highwaymen.
Telling younger people about “how we used to live” is a delight though. Not the before-mobile-phones stuff, that’s not especially interesting. It’s more the cultural touchpoints and behaviour that seemed normal a few decades ago but by today’s standards looks like collective madness. I recently told a young person about how we had a single at No1 for 16 weeks - a third of the year - in the 1990s: god-awful power ballad (Everything I Do) I Do It for You. Honestly, it was like I’d confessed something regrettable that I’d done on a big night out for the startled reaction I got. Try it yourself if you’re of an age, it’s a lot of fun. And if you’re not … give it time. About 20 years and you too can explain how cars used to be to someone half your age.
2) I got another job
No, not a proper full-time job, don’t panic. I’m still surfing the wave of voluntary redundancy and trying to make sense of it all. I just mean another freelance gig to add to my collection.
Before I succumbed to the ‘rona, I had to attend an interview in town. Smart clothes, public transport, I’d almost forgotten how. Thankfully, it’s a work-from-home deal so I won’t have to get used to all that again. I was initially sorry that I wouldn't get the chance to get out of my flat more and felt wistful about office-times. But then the realities of commuting hit me: the extra 20 minutes you need to build in, just in case; and because one leg of the journey would be by rail, the fear of missing the infrequent morning train. Urgh. No thanks. Even if the other half of the journey would be on the shiny new Elizabeth Line tube train*. So I shall continue to rely on the shop job for that all important “leaving the flat and talking to people”.
*Quick review of the Elizabeth Line: It’s fine. It’s nice. It’s … a tube train, init? A really clean tube train. (which I grant you, in London, is quite the novelty). The escalator halls are rather cavernous and imposing, I liked that.
3) I was, and am, heartbroken
At the end of last week, I received the sad news of the death of one of my oldest and best friends, Ed Hagan. Frankly, I haven’t accepted it at all and I’m not sure how I ever will. Among many other things, we shared a love of certain TV shows - and if we’ve all learned one thing from telly, it’s that they always bring back the really popular characters that everyone loves. So I won’t be surprised if he turns up on my doorstep with an incredible story and bottle of wine. Because he was popular and he was loved by everyone lucky enough to have known him. So the makers of this absurd drama series that we’re all trapped in will surely have to bend to audience pressure. Right?
I was going to include a photo of Ed but then thought, no. One should not lose the right to image approval just because one has been inconvenienced by mortality. Instead, here is a picture of some parma violet genever, consumed during one of the liver-punishing nights out we had whenever we were on the same side of the Irish Sea. It tasted of purple. Sláinte, Ed. ❤️
Friday dance break
Bit of a handbrake turn but I’m certain dear Ed would approve. In fact, given that I mentioned this tune earlier, I can imagine being scolded if I hadn’t included it: “Don’t you ever, don’t you ever stop being dandy.”
So let’s throw some spectacular shapes. Ridicule is nothing to be scared of …
(Also: the above still of Adam Ant and Diana Dors look suspiciously similar to Ed and me preparing for an evening on the tiles.)
Lovely post Celine. Full of your great spirit, honesty and kindness. Thinking of you x