January – start the year off fine…
This year’s resolutions were no different to any other, although I was full of extra positivity and spent the early part of the new year letting every WhatsApp group that asked know that – in the words of Elbow – “it’s all gonna be magnificent!”
It’s certainly not been so far, but I find solace in the fact I’ve found time to post this blog which is an unusual plus at least.
Every month, in fact, I’ll try my best to post a Neil Sedaka themed musing.
Schools closed, plans changed, childcare struggles ensued and workloads were juggled accordingly. Vaccines were rolled out, with some questionable decisions made – some put it on a t-shirt, I’d’ve kept mine hidden out of respect for those still dying, or desperately (but patiently) waiting, but hey, ho – and some other things changed, but the majority stood still.
Early year highlights included the exciting finale of Cobra Kai, which brought about a lovely nostalgia for my childhood and key characters from the original films. Ali – with an I – made a welcome return.
Meanwhile, the town in which we live was abuzz with the impending arrival of Tottenham Hotspur and myriad TV cameras & lights. I was castigated for not criticising the socially distanced support, as if that’s something I would do anyway… why? Because they didn’t launch fireworks at the Carnegie Library? Batter the local police? Attempt to laud it over Bootle or Formby when it had nothing to do with them? But this was different. Special… meaning more?
Anyway, proudly I took the kids to the ground in the morning, spoke to the chairman, had our photos taken and got home before the careful crowds amassed. Bought (proudly) the virtual ticket alongside myriad others, got a programme to keep as a memory for the kids… Frank Cottrell Boyce summed it all up rather nicely (I posted that last month, read it and weep!) so here’s a picture of us there on the day…
A proud dad moment, adding to the list, and I wrote last time about how lockdown has helped me start to slowly embrace middle age. I do try to keep up with good culture, I really do… very little art nowadays, using Apple Music there’s some new music and I’ve started watching WandaVision (don’t yet get it, but will prevail) and other ‘cool’ topics but feel like I’m slowly moving towards the mass media and older generations’ favourites. For example, I’ve changed my opinions on certain popular comics such as Lee Mack (Not Going Out is very cleverly written… I really got the Earl Grey joke in a recent episode) and mainly Romesh Ranganathan. I like his Wolf v Owl podcast, enjoyed his overnight stay in Hamleys, look forward to his new TV series, religiously read his weekly Guardian column.
I’ve also started to embrace the kind of things my parents would watch (and that’s a compliment!) such as Lingo (when time allows) and The Bay, which I love dearly because it brings back memories of childhood (and even last summer) because it makes the resort look so beautiful, and meanwhile love sharing daily our word puzzles which keep the brains active but more importantly, keep us in touch mentally (and electronically) when we can’t in person for who knows how long.
This month also reminded us of the beauty that is the pizzas by Il Capitano’s (which just get better and better) and an ensuing game of Neapolitan bingo, aka Tombola, and the rather risky number associations it involves. After ten days of self isolation, it was the perfect opportunity to remind Elijah of his numbers and also further fall in love with both Accrington and the Amalfi Coast (although we didn’t always divulge the real meaning of what was called!)
Apart from James Rodriguez, the real apex of the epiphany was the inauguration of Biden, and one moment in particular… I sat with tears in my eyes as a confident, articulate young woman stepped up to the podium and spoke so eloquently, so entertainingly, so energetically.
Amanda Gorman, then – more than anyone else – helped us start the year off fine, what with her beautifully poignant poem which clearly linked back to her early inspiration (Hamilton, which we watch regularly) that had (thankfully, for us all) helped her overcome her speech difficulties.
There was so much to feel good about during that ceremony, but she and her words were the shining light.
We’re not American; we haven’t had the same terrible treatments, the tyranny, we didn’t watch the horrors of an attempted uprising or insurrection or whatever else you’d like to label it, from the same epistemological standpoint… but still we see a divide, albeit different.
“When day comes we ask ourselves,
where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry,
a sea we must wade
We’ve braved the belly of the beast
We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace
And the norms and notions
of what just is
Isn’t always just-ice
And yet the dawn is ours
before we knew it.”
It’s all about that journey. The hill.
The hill we climb.
We can, at least, see the top…
Hope, then.
For us all.