Rhetorical Questions Round a Rectangular Dining Table
Vol.21 Is Yesterday, Tomorrow, Today?
Vol.21 Is Yesterday, Tomorrow, Today?
Yesterday, when all my troubles seemed so far away, someone kindly complimented me on one of my pinned articles stating, and I’m paraphrasing, that the article was well organised, informative and he wished he could pen an article such as this. Which of course was all rather lovely and to which I replied that he could, that it was easy, and that all he need do was write from his heart and as long as it passed his internal editor and he was pleased with the resulting article, he couldn’t do any more. He replied a final time, thanking me for my response and the motivation, and I naturally laughed at the prospect of motivating someone, anyone, and guffawed aloud that I’d clearly missed my vocation in life as a motivational speaker!
Today, as the April rains beat down once more, making a mockery of my assertion last week that Spring was finally here in the UK and the Great Fire God of the Sky was here to stay, I’ve had to shelve plans for yet another trip to a nearby river or canal, historic site of interest or neighbouring city, and this displeases me greatly. I can’t help feeling I’ve missed my vocation here too, as a weatherman, as regardless of whether I’m writing a pithy and spoiler free film review, the fortunes of my favourite football team, my existential angst here or a game of cricket from the other side of the world, I inevitably fall back onto the subject of the weather, and I’m nearly always wrong.
That’s the pre-requisite for being a weatherman isn’t it?
Tomorrow never knows apparently, and whilst I wish with all my darkened soul that I could turn off my mind and float down stream, I do know that you don’t get a suntan standing in the English rain, and that’s both a shame and something else I should add to my Curriculum Vitae for being a weatherman.
Do you listen to the colour of your dream?
“It’s another way, to get through the day
Picking up ripped cigarette boxes hoping that one remains
Yellow lucky day, suck deep and bathe
For the next ten minutes spent coughing all the pleasures craved
Write down all the things that you’d like to say
Write down all the things that you’d like to change
Write down all the places you’d like to stay
Write down anything that you want
Is yesterday, tomorrow, today?
Is nothing gonna change the way?”
Dreams, whether you listen to the colour of them or not, are bizarre aren’t they? Yesterday, or more accurately, last night, I remember dreaming of playing golf in the rain, which is patently absurd as that’s about as much fun as walking beside a river or canal or through a historic city in the pouring rain and you have zero chance of a t-shirt suntan too. I also dreamed of a small book launch and my even smaller circle of friends were all there, standing outside in the English rain, awaiting my arrival, and for some unfathomable reason, I awoke this morning humming the above song from the Welsh band Stereophonics, a song I haven’t listened to for far too many chart topping years. Just imagine your humble narrator beating the drums that signifies the opening of the song after the gentle, mournful guitar solo at the beginning before screaming “Come back, againnnnnnnnnnnn” with tremendous brio and gusto at the end.
Does this paint a pretty picture?
“Cracked rock top wall, left the ash to fall, left alone to wait
I’ve never looked at things I’ve liked only things I hate
You’re not the first today, not the softest face
Was there any that you liked, was there any that you didn’t fake?
Write down all the things that you’d like to be
Write down all the things that you don’t believe
Write down all the places you’d like to see
Write down anything that you want
Is yesterday, tomorrow, today?
Is nothing gonna change the way?
Because, everything that’s you
And the things that you like to do
And all of the things that are
Come back, again”
Do you believe that all things that are come back again? Write down all the things that you’d like to be? All the things you don’t believe? All the places you’d like to see? I certainly write down anything that I want and sadly and regrettably, it gets me nowhere.
There goes that gig as a motivational speaker I guess.
Yesterday was a carefree day as my son and I watched the rain fall outside as we watched two films together and played a game of cards that has long since become a tradition. He beat me yesterday. He’ll probably beat me again tomorrow. He gets irrationally mad when he loses. I guess the apple of competitive spirit didn’t fall far in our family tree. We play a game my mum used to play with her grandchildren. We play cards as I did with that very same grand old lady, games that I learned from her and have now passed on to a son who has the same familial traits as I do, and a mother’s son who is as stuck in his life as she was in hers.
Today I’ll put off, once again, compiling the book I’ve written as only I see the vision of the completed book being launched and promoted in last night’s dream. It’s the forever dream and together with spending time with a son who cheats at cards (and is still furious if he loses!) these are the only things that keep me going. Looming on the horizon is the reality that I’ll soon have neither.
Why compile a book that’ll never be published let alone read?
Why write this article when I know that no-one will ever read it?
Who is that stranger I see in the mirror?
Why can’t I just have yesterdays and tomorrows and forget about todays?
“Well I just made up this story
To get your attention makes me smile
I never looked up or looked
In the mirror behind me”
Thanks for reading. These existential questions and musings are part of a larger collection of rhetorical ramblings, and my three most previously published articles can be found here:
Rhetorical Questions Round a Rectangular Dining Table
Vol.20 Today’s and Tomorrow’s.medium.com
Rhetorical Questions Round a Rectangular Dining Table
Vol.19 Playing around with Moby and why does my heart feel so bad?medium.com
Rhetorical Questions Round a Rectangular Dining Table
Vol.18 Why does the “Big Dog” have 9 lives? Vote Paddington!medium.com