Diary of a Daydreamer
“A white room, by a window. Where the sun, comes, through”
“A headline in the Denver Post said “PULITZER TRIAL SEETHING WITH TALES OF SEX, DRUGS, OCCULT”. The New York Post upped the ante with “TYCOON’S WIFE NAMED IN PULITZER DIVORCE SHOCKER AND I SLEPT WITH A TRUMPET”. The Boston Herald American made a whole generation of journalists uneasy with a front-page banner saying “PULITZER WAS A DIRTY OLD MAN”.
Hunter S Thompson (from “Songs of the Doomed)
The final day of July 2024 started out like any other in recent memory and especially so for the doomed and damned of the “Goldfish Generation”. I had a crisp 5 pound note in my pocket, more than enough for a loaf of bread for the swans and ducks of Ironbridge and for some old fashioned sweets from my friend Jeremy and the owner of the tiniest kingdom of sugary delights the world has ever seen. Breaking from the norm I purchased some Cola Cubes and Pear Drops from my old friend but not before feeding Fred and Mary and a host of assorted ducks and not before reading tales of treachery and debauchery, sex, drugs and deviant Palm Beach rock n roll in the “Pulitzer v Pulitzer” trial so brilliantly depicted in the Hunter S Thompson book “Songs of the Doomed”. Many more tales from the 1980’s were enjoyed as I dangled my feet in the River Severn for the first time today and long before the second and final time when I had the real joy of capturing one of my swan friends (maybe Fred, maybe Mary, who knows?) up close and personal as it were as I sat in the river akin to a dog who’d lost his owner and simply cooling down from a beating sun. I sat on a rock on the riverside for almost an hour, simply watching the world and river roll gently on by, a spot I’d eyed with envy from “Beth’s Bench” for over 30 minutes as a young female and her male companion watched as a young child SQUEALED with delight as he threw a ball into the river for their dog to eagerly chase and retrieve to repeat this process over and over again. I barely moved from this spot in fact for most of the day and who would want to? After feeding the swans and ducks many more tourists were eager to take my place, a variety of dogs came bounding down to the steps to the river to throw themselves into the cooling water, numerous families took up residence on the riverbank, one in particular armed with every floating device known to mankind and soon the river was resplendent with not just Fred and Mary but two further swans, more and more ducks (before the dogs scattered them and the swans hissed at them to keep their distance!) and quite frankly, it was just another day in paradise, another day beside the River Severn, another day in toy town, and another day in which I’d be confused and mistaken for the English actor Ross Kemp.
All of this is of course getting ahead of ourselves for first I was acclaimed as a “Good Samaritan” for guiding a frantic Welshman to the nearest hospital and in emergency care of his wife. The compliment was taken with good grace but I was far from being a good samaritan, just a passer by in a petrol station anxious this elderly gentleman receive the correct directions to the hospital and with instructions coming at him from all angles simply asked him to follow me in his car, which he duly did. My good deed done for the day and Radiohead on the car speakers, I headed for my spiritual home, an appointment with Fred and Mary and a gaggle of hungry ducks. Jeremy had indeed sailed his boat off the coast of Wales on Sunday and with his pride and joy safely anchored and harboured 100 odd miles away he was back in toy town dispensing old fashioned sweets with his usual gentlemanly charm. We talked baseball and the wonders for the soul sailing a boat on a sunny Sunday afternoon and I had more than a pang of jealousy as I left his sugary kingdom with a pocketful of delights for the coming afternoon.
Much like Monday, I spent the afternoon soaking up the sunshine in the local park and, much like Monday too, I spent my time between “Hunter’s Bench” in the park and dangling my feet in the river by the Rowing Club. Whereas Monday was extremely busy both in the park and at the Rowing Club, today was far quieter and I had the River Severn to myself for half an hour before an hour or so with and indeed sitting on Hunter and his bench, occasionally marvelling at a quartet of young girls and mothers perfecting a dance routine to a Taylor Swift song. Dressed in a Radiohead t-shirt and reading Hunter S Thompson I was of course enjoying and smiling at the local ladies perfecting their routine rather than the utterly dreadful music!
Suffice to say, the Cola Cubes and Pear Drops didn’t last long!
So we return once more to where we began, in so many ways, and “Beth’s Bench” and my eyeing of a perfect spot in the river to sit like a lost dog and as the sun slowly crept its way to the right and behind the trees I snapped a perfect close up shot of a swan whilst children of all ages paddled in the river a couple of hundred yards either side of me. A young man smoked the largest illegal cigarette you ever did see whilst floating aimlessly on the river without a single care in the world before asking me if I was OK sat by myself. He asked me to join his harem of doting females but I declined with a smile before adding that I was just happy watching the world go by and listening to the squeals of delight all around me. By now the ducks had retreated to the far side of the river and the shade afforded them by the overhanging trees. The swans, Fred and Mary and two further interlopers, serenely paraded up and down the river with no regard whatsoever for the stoned young man spinning around in his kayak or indeed the canoeists and paddle boarders gallivanting on the river.
I, meanwhile, simply sat in the river watching the tiniest shoals of fish darting in and around my legs as I finished another chapter in the Good Doctor’s book before saying hello and paying my respects to the grandest old lady of all.
“Excuse me, sorry to bother you but…you do know you look like Ross Kemp, don’t you?”
“Not so much as I’ve grown older” I smiled at the kindly elderly lady as we talked in the shadow of the oldest lady of all “But over the past 20 years or so, if I had a fiver for every time someone said this, I’d be living on my own private island in the Bahamas!”
“It’s meant as a sincere compliment” she continued with a smile.
“Oh I know!” I replied “And I thank you for it”
We both smiled.
Thanks for reading. Well, you’ve reached this far so you may as well take a peek at this beautiful self-published book. Us indie authors need all the help we can get!
"Tales I Tell Myself" - link to Amazon
Thanks for reading. I hope this message in a bottle in The Matrix finds you well, prospering, and the right way up in an upside down world.