My early shift tomorrow will be my last of the week, needing as I do to use up my handful of remaining annual leave days. I had been waiting for some feedback from my cousin and best friend in Manchester regarding a plan to visit him this week, but, sadly, pressure of work prior to an almost two week Christmas and New Year shutdown at his workplace means that he won't be able to get a day off to carouse with me - hopefully we'll be able to sort something out for a get together next month. While I was on the phone with him, though, there was a rather unexpected 'encounter', lasting a couple of minutes, which has reinforced an earlier feeling on my part, originally engendered by a comment of his which was, probably, meant lightheartedly. His youngest son is now seven, although I haven't seen the boy since he was four. My cousin, on the earlier occasion, when I was supposed to be staying overnight with his family, a visit which fell through due to work commitments on both our parts, said something along the lines of 'You'd better not touch J'. OK, maybe I deserve such reprimands, given my proclivities, but a seven-year old? I don't think even I'm that benighted - or, at least, I didn't, until tonight. Because I spoke to the boy, just for a few minutes, and he reminded me so much of his father, at that age, and a little older, his voice, with the same accent, his confidence in speaking to an adult he barely knows, his wider than average vocabulary suggesting a substantial degree of intelligence, the memory of how pretty he was the last time I saw him, and the promise of how he might well look in the not too distant future, given that he takes after his father in that department too, all combining to suggest to me that I really wouldn't want to get too close to such a potentially perfect little guy. Yeah, of course, I know it's all about self-control and doing the right thing, but not putting myself in the way of temptation seems to me to be a pretty good policy in the circumstances.
The words 'legend' and 'icon' are bandied about pretty loosely these days, but sometimes there is rather more justification for such appellations. Patrick Moore has been a part of the landscape of British life for as long as I can remember, in fact, for longer than I've been alive. I can't imagine how many people, young and old, he encouraged to take an interest in astronomy, and science in general, but it must run into the tens or hundreds of thousands. Having read his autobiography a few years ago, I have to say that some of his political views were pretty unpalatable, from my point of view - he was mixed up in recent years with UKIP, a party of fascists, racists and xenophobes, as far as I'm concerned - but none of that, for me, detracts from his positive contributions to science and the broadcasting of science. A true original, and one that will be sadly missed.
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Someone made a comment like that to me once. I kind of brushed it off until I thought about it later, and it kind of pissed me off. However, about the time I was building up a head of steam, he apologized to me, profusely and I believe sincerely. We're best friends now, and his son and I get along famously (the boy is now 18, this happened when he was 10). I think sometimes it just comes out. So many parents are worst-first thinkers, no matter the target of their thinking. Doesn't excuse it, but perhaps explains it a bit.
ReplyDeleteI had to look up Patrick Moore, but yes, it would appear that we have lost a great man.
Peace <3
Jay
Hello Jay
DeleteI'm still best friends with my cousin, just very reluctant to even consider staying at his house. Not all of that, or even most of it, is in reaction to what he said so much as the realisation that his concerns have a sound basis. I've stayed out of trouble over the years largely by not getting close to boys, and I can't deny that a cute, intelligent and affectionate boy, even a very young one, might be more than my willpower could cope with.
Love & best wishes
Sammy B