Life Through A Lens

My wife and I were in Specsavers on Friday, tasked with the simple job of picking a pair of glasses each for reading. It’s an age thing.

She handed me a pair of round ones to try on.

Jen: “You look like John Lennon. Or that other one.”

Me: “McCartney?”

Jen: “Harry Potter. Try these.” She handed me a pair of black rimmed ones. I put them on.

Me: (Singing) “We-a-hell, the little things you say and do . . . ”

Jen: “Well?”

Me: ” . . . make me want to be with you-ah-ou . . . ”

Jen: “Do you like them?!”

Me: “Rave on, it’s a crazy feeling and . . . ”

Jen: “Do you like them or not?”

Me: “I know, it’s got me reeling . . . ”

Jen: “Yes or no?”

Me: “No. I told you I didn’t want any strong-rimmed ones. Do you know why I was singing that?”

Jen: “Yes, it’s Chuck Berry,”

Me: “It’s Buddy Holly!”

Jen: “I meant him.” I took them off, she handed me another pair.

Jen: “Try these. They’re green.”

Me: (Without looking at them.) “Put them back.”

Jen: “You’ve not even tried them.”

Me: “I’m not wearing green glasses.”

Jen: “Well what about these?”

Me: “I look like Dame Edna Everage.”

Jen: “You don’t!”

Me: “I don’t want glasses with sparkly bits on them.”

Jen: “They’re not sparkly.”

Me: “They’re like Elton John’s in his Rocket Man days.”

Jen: “Right! I’ll pick mine first then.” She put a pair on.

Jen: “What about these?”

Me. “Let’s see. Nah, I don’t like them.”

Jen: “What do you bleeding know about glasses anyway?!”

Can’t wait until we qualify for dentures.

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Musings At A Bus Stop

Shelter. That’s maybe all man has ever wanted. Shelter; warmth; food.

I’m huddled beneath a bus stop in what I regard the centre of my town. It’s not the town centre, so to speak, maybe not even the exact geographical centre, but historically, and spiritually, I think it’s the centre.

And even spiritual centres have bus stops.

A heavy rain has swept in from the coast, tail-end of a hurricane, no less, and I’m here, having emerged from the warmth of the library, watching a river of litter and leaves pass by on their mission to clog the drains.

You’d be forgiven for thinking that I’m waiting for a bus. I’m stood at a bus stop, after all. But no, I’m waiting for my wife to pick me up, this was just the nearest spot to stand out of the rain. I hope a bus doesn’t arrive, that would be awkward.

Have you ever seen children in a supermarket? Young children, I mean. If there is one walking down the aisle, say with his or her Mum, and another child turns into the aisle, they stand there checking each other out. A bit like dogs do. Without the sniffing, of course. Neither smiling nor speaking, they just stand there, sizing each other up.

I’m not sure why I’m thinking about this now, it’s not like I’ve even been to the supermarket, but anyhow, here’s my wife, pulling up, windscreen wipers going ten to the dozen.

Long Time Ago And We’re Still Fab

I apologise for paraphrasing the George Harrison song in the title of this post, but fifty years after it first topped the charts, The Beatles’ Abbey Road has returned to number one. In doing so, it set a record – the gap of 49 years and 252 days since its initial chart-topping run ended in early 1970 is the longest gap before returning to number one. It was the last album the group ever recorded.

As McCartney put: “It’s hard to believe that Abbey Road still holds up after all these years. But then again it’s a bloody cool album.”

Can’t argue with that.

Thought For The Day

It is Michaelmas day today. I told my wife, Jen, that traditionally it is the day when you feast on goose, fattened on the stubble fields, and that if you eat goose on this day you will never lack money all year. And also, it is as said that Elizabeth I was eating goose on Michaelmas Day 1588 when she heard about the defeat of the Armada and therefore declared that everyone should eat it on this day to commemorate the victory.

My wife replied “We are having pizza.”