Friday, November 13, 2009

The Recession & A Catastrophic Book Launch

Presently, I've more debts than clothes, more toes than my left foot can accommodate, a home that slopes precariously towards the sea, and a dog that believes it's the reincarnation of Cyrano de Bergerac. It wears a large prosthetic nose over its left eye and looks remarkably like Nicole Kidman as Virginia Woolf in the film The Hours. Instead of barking the dog shouts at me through a 30W megaphone: "Lug your guts away, salami, or stay and I'll remove you slice by slice!"

Am I the only person who covers his head during the day and stares wide-eyed into the darkness? I've just made a swift decision. It took me three days and five nights looking through a bored hole into my neighbour's house. We must move to a smaller house with a cheaper rent or preferably no rent at all. Christmas will soon be upon us and we are not prepared, financially or emotionally, for its arrival. At least my wife and I will not have to worry about where to hide presents this year. I'd run away but I can't find my red goose feather parasol collection.

Just between ourselves, in a bid to live on less during the current recession, my family and I have moved to a deserted farm which has no electricity. The house is surrounded by mud, rabbits, carrots, and thickets; similar to the interior. To save cash, my wife no longer dyes her mustache and we use candles to see in the dark. The candles are kept in a sealed box. You might find this foolish, however, the sealed box is in a hardware shop in the village waiting to be purchased. In this way, we save as much cash as possible. We also spend more time outdoors where its warmer, and sleep huddled together in a tall iron stove located in the kitchen. Thank goodness we've no coal to burn ...

To add to my despair my wife is speaking with a dubbed voice! It sounds like German or Spanish? Neither of which I am familiar. Quite honestly, I find her action deplorable. She could have the decency to provide "subtitles", or "inter titles" commonly seen in silent films. The result? I am confused about my feelings towards her. In fact, I don't recognise the woman I married two weeks ago. The photographs of our wedding are of little value; all night shots taken with a camera with no flash.

I think she's already cheating. Yesterday she quickly ducked into the oven to take a phone call. The chicken we were cooking for lunch took the opportunity to jump out and used a spare key to vacate the house. I alerted the cops. They said it successfully crossed the border in a stolen car and was last seen at a Burger King drive thru.

Last week I travelled to London to attend the launch of my book: "Fifty Ways to Approach an Incandescent Light Bulb While Disguised as a Cabbage". The event was catastrophic. Why? After I read from the book, talked about light bulbs and cabbage, and hosted a Question and Answer session, the idiot responsible for the launch of the book used too much explosive. The book shot into the sky and is currently orbiting the bald head of a man in Alaska called Mr Ima Tuna.

Reflections: How quickly the faces of some people you have known well can change from one of beauty to one of ugliness; of sensitivity to one of hate; from real to caricature; of truth to a refuge for lies, ignorance, conceit. An intuitive momentary glance, however, will confirm the slow decay of existence, the rapid passage of time, and how the past remains with us. Perhaps a level of ignorance about truth, love, courage, life, is conducive to our well-being?

The fatigue of life withers our judgement, opinion, sensitivity, and our relationships with friends, work colleagues, partners, family. We are all prone, occasionally, to acts of weakness, poor judgement, selfishness, indifference, cynicism, insincerity. Some individuals, however, play the part to perfection; daily, by the hour, by the minute, by the second. They have forgotten what life tastes like.