Childhood . Music . My Mother . Nostalgia
Club Django and More
On October 9, 2016 by Speranza
Last week a friend (actually, two separate friends, who both know me well) invited me to come along and hear Club Django. I do love hearing bands play live and I particularly like this kind of music but sometimes it seems like too much trouble after a long day at work and the concept of coming home and going out again seems unbearable.
Still, as noted here before, I find Klezmer (or so-called ‘Gypsy Jazz’) reliably cheering so my friends collected me at the especially odd time of 2pm and we moved out of the glinty sunshine into a darker venue to catch Club Django in concert.
And from the opening notes, I was so, so happy that I did.
Getting Older . Nostalgia . Public Library . Tales from the Public Library
In Praise of Older Women
On May 28, 2016 by Speranza I’ve always quite liked older people and I must say that usually, they quite like me as well; maybe it’s because I am an old soul myself or simply because when I address them I don’t use a slower, LOUDER, special voice and I also like to avoid cyclical conversations about weather, Sudoku, or
Introspection . Nostalgia . Writers . Writing
The Other Martha
On January 3, 2016 by Speranza
I just finished listening to an archived interview with hard-boiled wartime writer and activist Martha Gellhorn on the radio and hearing her cultured, richly intellectual way of speaking casually expand on the exciting yet pugilistic life she led has made me feel equal parts impressed, intrigued and unsettled.
Impressed and intrigued because she led such a fascinating, unpredictable and often dangerous life and unsettled because this is a heady cocktail of everything I am not.
I have none of her wanderlust, her confidence or that driving need to be combative (most recently I couldn’t even play a competitive board game at Christmas lest I offend the land occupiers who were good friends!) yet I continue to pretend that had my life turned out differently, I might have been a kick-arse journalist.
Really. Really? I need to shut this fantasy down and resolve to confine myself to writing at least half-way regularly at my middle-class desk where I can safely blog to an audience that rarely exceeds 2 digits … what the heck would Martha say about that …?
I cannot bear to think of it.
Strangely, it’s a truism about myself that I’m often extremely attracted to clever outspokenness as a trait in other people – Noel Gallagher, Denis Leary, Richard Dawkins, The General – but I abhor it in myself; of course, I should also clarify that boorish, uncalled for outspokenness can veer very closely to let’s just say something else, and I have never found someone being a complete asshole even remotely attractive.
Being A Mum . Frasier and Niles . Nostalgia
The Stomach Knows: Part II
On September 3, 2015 by Speranza
Fast forward to Frasier’s first day at school which was preempted by much psychological preparation including nightly readings about what that first day would entail ( I seem to recall the protagonist was a young raccoon) the purchase of a special, fancy knapsack and a lunch that included sliced grapes (no choking hazard) and sandwiches that were cut into the shape of a duck. His teacher, a kind and vivacious woman who was all flowy skirts and paisleys (think: Ms.Frizzle) actually came to the house to introduce herself over the summer and had already made quite an impression.