Posts Tagged With: music

A Very Strange Unillustrated Morning

As I make my way on the side streets towards the freeway, I have to avoid going over a tabby cat that must have been killed last night. (Yes, it was definitely dead when I saw him). Not a good start to the day.

I could of taken it as an omen. It is Friday the 13th after all, but I choose to see life’s fragility and nurture a determination to live every moment well.

As I crank up my music, I ease myself into the “fast” lane of the freeway, which is bumper to bumper. A Prius catches my attention, a dark electric blue I had wanted mine to be. And I smile because the driver shakes with laughter, covering her mouth with her arm raised in a “v”. I am almost side-by-side to her now. Though she is in fact shaking she’s not laughing, but crying. She brushes the tears forcefully from her eyes. I almost hit the car in front of me. She is oblivious of anything around her . Her signal light goes on. She can’t possibly do this safely in her condition so I slow down significantly, giving her space. She is now in front of me. Her signal light still on. So I help her maneuver lanes by opening some space changing lanes along with her. She’s getting off. Without knowing why, I follow as she exits.

She parks, as do I behind her. I get out of my car and approach hers. I startle her. She lowers her window about an inch, an inquisitive look on her tear-streaked face. She’s a mix, as am I, I don’t much know of what. A thought that everyone should have their DNA test done to possibly eliminate discrimination pops into my head. Her hair, long and semi-straight is not combed. “Are you alright?” What a stupid question I pose. Of course she is not. Her already small eyes recede into her face, her mouth quivers and shapes itself into a grimace. She sobs. I wonder what I’m doing here. “I have a bottle of water in my car. Wait here.” I bring it back and hand it over as she brings the window down. Her naked left hand is placed on my wrist as she grabs the bottle with her right hand, which I notice has huge rings on every finger making her physically as unbalanced as she probably is emotionally. I don’t know what to say. She is looking ahead now, still crying. Stupidly I blurt: “Promise me you won’t drive until you are better”, knowing that it may take a long time and that, in fact, it may never be so. I hold the hand that had held my wrist. I pat it. I ask if she wants me to stay. She briefly and fastly shakes her head no. I go back to my car. I realize that she has not said a word.

I drive two blocks, take a turn and park on a side street. I take a deep breath. I think of how completely useless I have been. I haven’t comforted her, resolved any of her issues, angst, or even know what brought on her crying. I only know that she was in enough pain that she didn’t care that a total stranger saw her breakdown. And though clueless as to the whys of her wallowing in so much sorrow I believe she had a broken heart. Being young, she may not realize there are many more ahead. I drive on.

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I have decided to end my blogs with a song or two. Sometimes related to the blog, sometimes not. For this one, two songs come to mind from an Irish singer, songwriter, musician who displays much empathy and understanding of life. Jamie Lawson was the first act signed to Ed Sheeran’s recording label, Gigerbread Man Records. He became well known by a song that related a lifelong love story: “Wasn’t Expecting That“.

I wish I could have shared “A Little Mercy” and “Sometimes It’s Hard” with the girl:

A Little Mercy

“…There’s no shame in sharing how you’re feeling
There’s no gain in keeping your pain inside

If your sorrows have been left unspoken
Like broken bells, they no longer chime
If you’re coming undone
You won’t be the only one
We all need a little mercy sometimes

Hold on, you’re only a heartbeat away
From turning your world around
Hold on, nothing’s ever over
No matter how far you fall down
All that once was lost can be found…”

Sometimes It’s Hard

“Sometimes it’s hard to get through your working day
And find the words to say
Everything’s okay
When you feel differently inside
You feel you’re gonna break…

“Rest assured this will not last,
Rain that falls it has to pass,
And the sun, it will shine again…”

 

 

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Sleep, a Move and Eric Clapton Sings!!

Flat Departure  We wake up (if you can call it that) and hear the rain fall.  Great reason to go back to sleep.  There’s the excuse of jetlag  -which we don’t have- but I will go with the fact that a lazy day was in order and that the weather provided the perfect excuse.

I’ve been wanting to see The Great Gatsby in 3D so once I get cabin fever we bus it rainy day, London, double-decker bus out to Covent Gardens to see it.  Turns out we had the wrong theater but ended up seeing it in a huge screen but not in 3D.  I wanted to love it.  I didn’t. But I didn’t dislike it.  It had good and bad.  A bit disappointed in the visuals.  Not an explosion of color and movement as Moulin Rouge was.  Some elements were a bit overused.  Leo did a great job.  Bit slow and then rushed on a resolution.

Next day is moving day and the weather still a bit yucky.  It has been unseasonable cold in this part of the world, or at least in London.  I take a walk around “my” neighborhood of Fulham and buy some things that will keep me warm.  By the time I arrive at the flat it’s check out time and the cleaning lady is already there.

Off we go to The Gore, our next residence in London.  We chose The Gore Hotel because it is a block and half from The Royal Albert Hall where Eric Clapton is playing and whose concert we are attending twice.  More on that later.

Our room 208 (Miss Ada) is not ready yet so we wait in the Green Room, not the anteroom before a performance but a much civilized tea room.  The Gore, Green Room,  A coffee table book of Jimmy Choos’ shoes and a cup of tea entertains me.  MsAdaSo does my computer.  The hotel is 150 years old, the building it is housed in is 200 years old.   We are in old London, in Kensington and a residential area.

The room is a corner room.  The Gore, London, Miss Ada, Room 208 All is old The Gore Hotel, London, Miss Ada, Room 208 except for the double pane windows which shields us from any traffic noise.  In the bathroom a surprise.  The Gore Hotel, London, Miss Ada, Room 208 A “throne” for a toilet with pull chain and all.  throne, The Gore, pull chain toilet,   The Gore Hotel, London, throne, toilet I laugh when I use it the first time (and do so every time thereafter).  The room has such a proper English feel to it.

Tutu finds his spot. TutuRoom

We get a handwritten welcome along with a tray of fruit which I devour. The Gore Hotel, London, Miss Ada, Room 208  The Gore Hotel, London, Miss Ada, Room 208

The weather hasn’t improved by the time of the concert but I still wear my highest heels, get a hotel umbrella and off we go to see Eric Clapton!  A snack in one of the RAH’s bar sets the mood for the night.

The Royal Albert Hall is a grande dame.  The Royal Albert Hall, Eric Clapton, London  Beautiful and plush in red and gold.  The Royal Albert Hall, RAH, London, Eric Clapton  So much has happened within its walls. Eric Clapton, The Royal Albert Hall, RAH, London

And then there is Eric!

 Eric Clapton, The Royal Albert Hall, RAH, London Eric Clapton, The Royal Albert Hall, RAH, London

Tears In Heaven.  I’m in heaven.  Eric Clapton, The Royal Albert Hall, RAH, London  Eric Clapton, The Royal Albert Hall, RAH, London

An acoustic set that was to die for! Eric Clapton, The Royal Albert Hall, RAH, London

The departure Eric Clapton, The Royal Albert Hall, RAH, London and the short one and half block commute to the hotel where I have desert, a creme catalane (basically a creme brulee), that was really good.  Tea from the green room and upstairs we go.

I am liking London much more than I have ever liked it from my previous trips.

Nighty, night.  Come with me tomorrow… we are going to be kids all over again and the day after we will have more of Eric Clapton.  We’ll have fun.  You’ll see.

 

 

 

 

Categories: Kensington, London, rainy day, United Kingdom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

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