lowerhone farm by katharine eastman
Summers out of reach empty lake empty streets and I've still got my sunglasses on ta ra la la ladidah - not only is my international life full of famous bus rides to down-the-road and back, but sometimes I have my favourite days of all, the days like this one coming up, when I will do nothing at all - not going out - you only need to have an appointment to have to do something on a day to make you appreciate how beautiful are the days with no appointments at all, and today is one of those beautiful free days.
I'm watching a The Wire boxed set which I got in a charity shop for a pound about three weeks ago. I've seen the whole series about three times already in my life, on things me and my beloved got from a certain Bay where Captain Kidd lived, but not only is this the first time I've seen it on proper discs, but it is also the first time I've seen it sober. Must admit, I'd got it wrong. Until now I'd always said it was v v v overrated - not a patch on Sopranos or Breaking Bad or Better Call Saul, not even as good as Mad Men. Now that I've finally seen it sober I know it is quite good.
Marlo is my favourite character. Not so much the character in the thing, just the actor himself (Jamie Hector) - I love the way he soooo underplays it - that is the kind of acting I like, the kinds of films and books and music I like too. Whereas poor old Dominic West is so clearly the worst thing in it, hamming it all up, they clearly don't know what to do with him after a while, and he can't do "drunk" for shit.
And to my extra surprise my favourite moment made me cry a bit - just because it reminds me of how beautiful and quiet and simple the world once was. It happened yesterday, right near the start of season 5, the season involving a lot of things around the city's main newspaper. There's a moment when someone remembers seeing someone else carefully turning a page of a newspaper and carefully folding it down and making sure the creases are all sure and straight - and just that care and respect for the paper was so moving.
I remember years and years ago, an interview with Nelson Mandela, he too was talking about the care with which he'd fold the newspaper as he turned its pages and read its words - how much newspapers used to mean, how we loved them. Days that have gone. I do still buy the occasional newspaper - they're now too small to care about, the news isn't much in the way of news, they've helped make me see that nothing much in the world really matters, so I suppose it's a good thing.
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[Oh and oh and oooh the RELIEF - it's still only the 4th of September and I've already got all three latest albums there on the right of my screen with "Sep 2025" underneath - the pressure is off - production will slow down now ]
