Dru, Steinbeck and the Book of Deer

Dear Juliet You've gone all quiet again and I miss you 😢. Well, anyway, I got back on the job again yesterday and, considering you might be feeling invisible, thought I'd do something macho and silly. Namely climb the steps from Bridgnorth's Low Town to its High Town (you remember Gene Kelly and Dancing In the Rain ?) in your honour, proving that, to me at least, you are highly visible. So I did. There's a Theatre On The Steps halfway up, quite a few inebriated kids/adults in short pants (not a style I admire) at the top, and I took a photo of the general situation from the Town Hall with Dear Miss Landau in the foreground. Please consider this explicit evidence that you are seen and visible. Remember, too, that you can also be seen in Dear Miss Landau itself. I certainly wasn't waiting for Dru that day... And I always liked going to comic-cons just to see you. Okay, I'm back in Bridgnorth tonight, think I'll try that climb again (I have to get fit some...

Dear Juliet Thinking about today's blog, I came across the fact that children of narcissists think they're invisible (and, I guess, worthless) when they're not performing. That they're only of any value when they're up there on stage earning their crust. Well, I don't agree with that. Except for a few utter lowlifes I won't go into, everyone has innate worth and value. It may be a statement of the obvious, but you are innately valuable. I've always enjoyed worrying about you, trying to work out what makes you tick, and deciding what Christmas and birthday presents to give you. Despite the wet feet, I really enjoyed getting you that statuette . In fact, let's review a few crucial phrases from  Dear Miss Landau : "Crucial meetings in the NAS briefing room came and went as the clock ticked down to zero hour. There was a strange contrast between being personally fond of someone with whom I was corresponding in private and professionally dispassionat...

Dear Juliet You're not ditzy. Queenly, perhaps, but that didn't rhyme with dear and I wanted to remind you that you don't have to be perfect to be loved. I always thought you were quiet, cute and sweet. There. So I'm due to get pummelled by the osteopath this afternoon, back on the job tomorrow, physio on the 11th and a victory lap at New Cross sometime. My leave's between 24th August-11th September, not sure if I'm going anywhere, such is life. How are you doing? Looking for a subject... So your uncle worked for Mattel? I've been there. January 2024 in L.A., and my back had locked up over that nerve again. The osteopath had freed it but I wasn't in great shape. However he gave me some of the best advice I've ever had, which was to exercise and walk. So I made it on and off the plane, got into a sterile Travelodge south of Sepulveda, rolled painfully out of bed in the morning and walked across to the Metro at Mariposa. And I found I was walking right...

Dear Juliet I've got a cushion under my lower back so the pain's not too bad today. I also tried to go to church and light an urgent candle for you but it's overrun by kids (oh, the little darlings!) and we're all locked out... So I'm just left with a lingering worry (and a good shot of the church), plus my ongoing commitment to not leaving you in the lurch. In that regard: If you need more advice like the Scott Allie seminar, I'm waiting here on the wire . It's pretty simple stuff, actually, if a bit stark. If you'd like the updated versions of the Dru Quartet in case you ever do that table read, I can send them to you. In most cases, I just made microscopic grammatical corrections, but Graveyard needed a bit more exposition and the date of its setting had to be moved from 2032 to late 2019 (just before the Covid-19 pandemic). P.S. you can have the author, too! And no, I'm not angling to get your email address. There's just no other way to do ...

Dear Juliet I hope you liked reading all those blogs last night, but I guess a situation may be on your mind. Okay, I'm listening; and I remember the time I gave you advice about Scott Allie. I can help you again if you'd like, but I can't proffer it against your will. Over here, the sciatica's still painful but I had a good afternoon out with friends at the Bell and Tong and also got an invite out for tonight. I'll try bravely to hobble over. But where does that leave me and thee? Sitting in the catbird seat , perhaps? I'm not sure. I get the feeling - and it's only a feeling - that you're near a turning point, a breakthrough, maybe a moment of clarity? Well, if you are, I'm watching out for you. Mind you, though, the darn ringer on my smartphone never seems to work too well... But I'll keep an eye and ear out for you, come what may. I suppose, separately or together, we're sitting in the catbird seat. But if that's the case please alway...

Dear Juliet Some of the titles that occur to me... Anyway, don't worry, I'm only going to mention the middle one. Every now and then, a muscle in my lower back clenches up over the sciatic nerve. The result is painful and I'm seeing the osteopath on Friday. So it goes, as Vonnegut says. I know things are maybe a bit heavy for you at the moment, and it probably feels quite a lot worse than a trapped nerve. But I'm listening as you read this in the deeps of the night, if my guess is right. I hope you're okay. Perhaps this is the thing to say:  The longer you leave a trapped nerve, the less chance things will indeed be okay. Time after time over the past seven years, I found that tomorrow might well be another day, but it's best not to postpone any reckoning 'til a time far away. It's rarely as bad as you think if you face up to it at dawn rather than dusk. Leave it too long and it gets locked in place like a husk, harder to wrench free and loosen up. Like...