Autobiographical

When I’m working from home and on numerous phone calls, I’m a bit of a pacer.

I like having my airpods in, having a stroll around the house whilst waxing lyrical and if I’m feeling a little devil-may-care, I might throw in some wild gesticulations. It was on just such a call today, when I wandered into the front room at the same moment as the sun burst through the blinds illuminating these tulips, which are unfortunately almost at the end of their natural cycle, but still looked lovely in the sunlight. 

A Friday with no videocalls is something of a luxury and so I was able to get some annoying bits cleared and make an effort to actually get ahead on some other things. My new kicks arrived (extra) too and have already had the “cool” seal of approval from the children, which is good enough for me.

There seems to be a unifying guilt going around at present. We are all aware of and appalled by what is happening in the Ukraine, but ultimately powerless to do anything about it (aside from protest at the continued inaction of our useless hamstrung politicians and send a few quid and/or supplies over). Yet our lives continue on as normal as we treat ourselves to new things (new kicks perhaps), rapidly increasing bills need to be paid, mouths need to be fed and maybe the car needs a wash too. But against the horrors going on elsewhere in the world, it all feels so arbitrary, doesn’t it?

Following the previous night’s viewing of Jerry Maguire, I drew a connecting line to High Fidelity via the presence of Todd Louiso in both films (Chad the nanny and Dick, respectively) and couldn’t believe that my offspring hadn’t seen that either. 
“What’s it about, Dad?”
“It’s about a guy getting over a breakup (and himself set) against a backdrop of musical obsession.”
Couldn't think why that sounded so familiar, but it was just as good as I remembered it and funny too. At the time of its release there was some consternation from fans of Nick Hornby’s book that the setting had been moved from London to Chicago, but it works on film and John Cusack is great and engaging as he breaks the fourth wall to tell the story.

For me though, my favourite moment in the film is where a heartbroken Rob is rearranging his records and Dick is trying to work out his system. The facial expressions from Rob just before he reveals it and the ecstasy on Dick’s face on hearing it are sublime.

There’s a lot of comfort to be found in the small things*.


*That’s what I tell my Tinder dates anyway.