24 July, 2020 – Mister Bump

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Music Challenge (24 July 2020)

for today’s Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Music prompt.

I’m not going to go far at all today. Listening to Jim’s post just put me straight back into the Eighties. I thought Sade was brilliant, I have Diamond Life somewhere, so when I heard Smooth Operator it just took me straight back there. I just love her chilled-out sound, and I feel guilty because I haven’t listened to her in many years. She was real sexy, sultry, seductive wine-bar music of the time.

So while I thought of a few other candidates which migt be suitable today, please indulge me by allowing me to reminisce with another song from that album.

“

Your love is king
Crown you with my heart
Your love is king
Never need to part
Your kisses ring
Round and round and round my head
Touching the very part of me
It’s making my soul sing
Tearing the very heart of me
I’m crying out for more
Your love is king
Crown you with my heart
Your love is king
You’re the ruler of my heart
Your kisses ring
Round and round and round my head
Touching the very part of me
It’s making my soul sing
I’m crying out for more
Your love is king

I’m coming on
I’m coming
You’re making me dance
Inside

Your love is king
Crown you with my heart
Your love is king
Never need to part
Your kisses ring
Round and round and round my head
Touching the very part of me
It’s making my soul sing
Tearing the very heart of me
I’m crying out for more

Touching the very part of me
It’s making my soul sing
I’m crying out for more
Your love is king

This is no
Blind faith
This is no
Sad or sorry dream
This is no
Blind faith

Your love, your love is real
(your love is king)
Gotta crown me with your heart
(your love is king)
Never never need to part
(your love is king)
Touch me
(your love is king)
never letting go
(your love is king)
Your Love is King
never letting go
(your love is king)
never gonna give it up
(your love is king)
I’m comming
(your love is king)
making me dance
written by Sade Adu, Stuart Matthewman, also a bandmember of Pride, he’s playing the sax

Fruitless (Fandango’s Friday Flashback)

Yay, it is Friday again, and Fandango has just published his Friday Flashback post. The idea is that he picks a post from this day in a previous year, to give newer readers a better insight into what does and doesn’t make him tick.

I have always liked that idea, so shall also post my own reminiscence. As much as anything, it reminds me of where I was, where I am now, and how far I have come. Hopefully, you will find it entertaining along the way.

Two years today, to a run-in that I had with the doctor’s surgery. I’ll let you read the details below.

I am glad to say that since then, things have improved.

I’d like to be able to say that this is because the staff are better-trained, but I seriously doubt that.

The situation has improved because:

The UK now has a very belated online prescription service, or in fact many of them. I order meds by going to a web site. The request magically flies through the ether to the doctor, who magically signs it and sends it to the pharmacy, again via the ether. The pharmacy picks out all the meds, then has a guy who drives around all day, delivering medicine to people like me.
My wife now works at this surgery. If I need a blood test, it happens in the kitchen, before she leaves for work. I have not been to the surgery since shortly after this flashback. In fact, the flashback prompted me to look for other ways of obtaining my meds.

Fruitless

I need a fresh batch of meds each month.

When the meds arrive, they come with a slip to re-order. When I need fresh meds, I fill out the slip and drop it at the surgery. Two days later, I go back and pick up a prescription. There is, nominally, an ID check when they hand the prescription over. I then take the prescription along to a pharmacy, where they give me the meds. Not Amazon, but seems to work.

Last month, I needed to see the nurse for a blood test. I’ve started taking a new med for my diabetes and I wanted to make sure that it wasn’t screwing my kidneys over.

I go to the nurse to get the blood test. She is trying to be as helpful as she can.

– Would you like me to print off your next prescription?

– Yes, please, would you mind?

After all, the surgery is about my walking limit, so the fewer trips I need to make, the better.

I’m happy to have the prescription, and did not notice until I got home, that she had not given me this slip, to order the next batch.

(view original Post)

Nicked

I saw a post last night which talked partly about something which happened in the UK about a week ago.

A la George Floyd, a policeman subdued a suspect by kneeling on their neck. Fortunately, in this case, the suspect did not die.

The incident took place on the street, outside somebody’s house. The householder heard a commotion, realised what was going on, and filmed the incident.

The film made the news channels. At this time, of course it would.

I didn’t see the incident as particularly worthy of comment, because at the time, the wheels seemed to be moving in the right direction. The policeman was suspended within a couple of hours – purely for the reason that the police’s instruction manual states, apparently, that kneeling on a suspect’s neck is not permitted.

The post last night made the point that video cameras only ever give us a partial view, which is of course correct. The movie I saw on the news, somebody will have hit the start button, somebody will have hit the stop button, somebody might well have edited out the middle bit, which they decided was unimportant. So it had been deliberately decided what I would see before the clip was even aired. I understand that. All news is like that. Evidence from a single camera would instantly fail the legal test of being the whole truth.

But we live in an age where every smartphone has a video camera, and so many of us all have smartphones. We film all sorts of crap. So how could somebody do this, and think that nobody would capture it?

Second, George Floyd was killed on 25 May. That single incident sparked protests around the world. So how could anybody think it would not be newsworthy? And more fundamentally, putting the Floyd murder to one side, how can anybody think that using their knee to suffocate another human being is acceptable? You know, are there any reasons, ever, why this is acceptable?

Now, bear in mind that the policeman in this case has been hired at great public expense, has been trained at great public expense, to uphold the law. Has more than likely been armed, for that very same purpose. So I have one more question – how much do we trust this guy’s judgement, to do this for us?

You know, it is absolutely true that cameras do not tell the whole story, but how much more of this story do we need to know?

Lunch (1:7)

There was contact between them at work, of course, but not enough that anyone would notice.

They’d spoken to each other, in the evenings, about every four or five days, and Anna called Paul, the Wednesday before their date, to check that everything was okay to meet. They agreed to meet up on Saturday afternoon, and head up to Covent Garden together, maybe visit a few of the posh shops, or have a bite to eat if the fancy took them.

Saturday, at ten to two, Paul was waiting at the entrance to Chalk Farm tube station. Anna turned up right on time at 2 o’clock, and they caught the next Northern Line train to Leicester Square. From there, it was a short hop to Covent Garden – London is actually an excellent walking city, the centre at least. They made a note of the films at the cinemas in the square, and strolled off together.

In this part of London, the tourist part, there are restaurants every minute, and after two hours shopping, the pair were ready for a late lunch. Back they headed, to Chinatown for some Dim Sum. They made another discovery, then – that they were both vegan, not only that, but both for the same reasons.

They ate and talked, talked and ate. There was a constant supply of green tea, to stave off any thirst they might have had. With an eye on the clock, Anna finally said, “do you fancy seeing that film? It starts at 7 and if we leave now, we can make it.” Not particularly wanting the day to end, Paul agreed. They split the bill, and strolled off to watch “The Leading Edge” together. When they left the cinema, arm in arm, the sky had become dusk, as they headed back home.

They got off again at Chalk Farm station – she’d stayed on the train an extra stop, because she didn’t want the day to end just yet, and because it was a warm evening, Paul had decided to walk home from there. Their first real kiss was just past the ticket barriers, watched rather too closely by an employee of London Underground!

Anna broke her usual rule, and agreed to meet Paul on Thursday. Against her better judgement (she could not stand football) she agreed to go with Paul to watch Arsenal, who were playing Sevilla in the Europa League that night. Paul had a friend who had some job which meant he could get tickets, apparently. This was the semi-final, not that Anna would have cared. Arsenal ended up drawing 2-2, not that Anna would have noticed.

Given the crowds of people, and the warm evening, they decided to walk back. They could have been quicker but they stopped for a nightcap, when Paul treated Anna to an expert analysis of the holes in Arsenal’s defence!

That night they consummated the new relationship. To avoid unnecessary questions from housemates, they had ended up at Paul’s. Anna was the first woman since Beth, and she had less than a month to go at RightWay.