I’ve not been terribly well today. Well, I’ve not been terribly well for over a month now but this time it was a physical ailment. I spent last night having one of those awful sleeps, where no matter what you do you cannot get comfortable. Either a small crick in my back played up or my arm started going dead (I am no longer in a part of my life where that, as a male, gives me an advantage). I had that feeling I used to get when I had done a lengthy swim, like there was some chlorine stuck in my nasal passage and it was fugging up my head. Then my least favourite dream started.
The one where you dream you are n bed, tossing and turning and falling in and out of sleep, so you can’t tell if you are really awake when you are awake or if you are awake in the dream but still asleep in real life (this is not a dream inspired by the Doctor Who Christmas special, by the way. It’s a dream I have had the displeasure of having many times in my life. I’m sure there could be some significance placed upon it, if I believed in that sort of thing.
So all of that meant I did not get a very good night’s sleep. I got out of bed this morning feeling as though even getting out of bed was an accomplishment. I put on my Captain America socks (part of a brilliant Christmas present. My favourite thing to get for Christmas – packs of socks. This one in particular was a Marvel Heroes pack. It had Iron Man, Captain America, The Hulk and Spiderman. Where’s Thor?! I was a little bit outraged when I first saw them but I do adore new socks) and my Animal pyjama bottoms (which I liberated from Keri) and decided to have a film day on the sofa.
A while back I bought Moonrise Kingdom and The Grand Budapest Hotel on DVD. I am a huge fan of Wes Anderson. I adore how well sculpted all of his characters are. Not one of them (that I can think of) is wholly good or wholly bad. Each one has redeeming qualities and qualities which we do not like. For me, his quintessential character is Steve Zissou, played by Bill Murray, my favourite actor. That film is just sublime. We are introduced to Zissou at the opening night of his latest documentary and the film follows his filming the follow, where they try to find the shark that ate his friend Esteban. I love how, about half-way through the film, we really do not like Steve as a person. He keeps referring to Jane as a ‘dyke’ because she rejects his advances; he won’t let Ned call him dad. He is a little bit of a jackass. What Anderson does so well is the redemption of his characters.
Anyway, we all know how good that film is. Moonrise and Grand Budapest are wonderful films. The first is a love story between two disturbed teenagers who decide to run off together. The second is a sort of crime-farce (I think). I won’t go into too much detail about them here now because I have only watched them the once and like to give things another watch before I review them properly.
After that, I sat down to do some editing for the upcoming issue of Bunbury Magazine, of which I am your erstwhile editor. It was short stories I was pouring over today. I really do love to read the submissions we receive. We usually give a theme for people to play around with and it is a pleasure and surprise to see how varied the work is based upon it.
Like I say, I’m not very well today. It may be time for a Lemsip and a lie down. I might wear my Spiderman socks tomorrow. Here is a poem.
I think the back-left hob of my
cooker may get lonely sometimes.
It must see its three friends
lighting up the room
with their warmth spreading and feeding
those around them
and feel like it’s not part
of the gang somehow.
It’s the little fella stuck at the back,
runt of the litter.
It’s awkward and slow
and hard to get going.
I think its spark has gone
to be honest.
Every now and again
I try to make gravy on it,
to include it but it just does not seem interested.
It can’t hold the special gravy pan I have,
I don’t think it even tries.
It can’t hold a light
to its bigger, brighter brothers.
I may try again tomorrow
but I think it will just sigh at me.