A British composer's ambitious quest to premier a requiem in the highly atmospheric Abney Park cemetery by lantern light.
Wednesday, 22 July 2015
Grotty
I was rather amused this morning to find a letter from the Moorfields Eye hospital, plainly meant to be sent to my GP's surgery, which informed them about the treatment I'd been given for my blepharitis when I went there as an emergency patient last month.
I don't have a regular doctor, so, on the form, where it said "name of doctor," I wrote "Highgate Group Practice:" The name of the surgery.
Imagine my delight, therefore, when the official letter came here addressed "Dear Dr Highgate!" I think I may adopt that particular name as a writing pseudonym. "Who wrote this piece of camp erotic fiction?" "Dr Highgate, of course." "And are we any closer to knowing the identity of Dr Highgate?" "No, but we know he has a gammy eye..."
We were up again at shite o'clock this morning for a meeting down the hill with Uncle Archie and Cat. Nathan was working today so our only option was to meet at 8am. I should have been organised and taken great plates of croissants and fresh fruit. That's what people in the city do for breakfast meetings isn't it? It might have woken me up a bit as well. I was so tired that my body felt hot inside. It took me until mid-day (when I got back home again) before I felt even remotely normal again.
The little girl opposite me on the tube to the osteopath this afternoon weed herself, which was fun and games for the mother, who was rifling through her bags to find some clean, dry leggings. The girl didn't seem that fussed. She stood, rather passively, as Mummy sorted her out. Who would ever be a mother? Potty training just adds insult to injury, doesn't it?
I learned something fascinating today, namely that the word "grotty" (meaning dirty or unpleasant) was invented by Alun Owen in 1964 for use by the Beatles in their Hard Day's Night feature film. In context, it's George Harrison who uses the word. We're told didn't actually want to say it, but was convinced to do so, and ends up describing a couple of shirts as grotty. When asked what the word means, he says "grotty... grotesque."
I watched the rest of Hard Day's Night for research purposes this evening. It's a funny old piece which seems to make very little sense. There was a great deal of surrealism about in popular culture in the mid 60s!
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