You may remember my excitement, a post or so ago, at the serendipidy of my employment life. From making an index at a publishing house, via helping passengers at London Airport to flying in stewardess mode with unaccompanied children, I find myself, at the hospital, working in the Library with the book index, at an Enquiry Desk helping patients' with their enquiries and, wonder of wonders, that which I failed to note the last time, pushing a trolley of books around the wards and, therefore, once again, a Trolley Dolly. Whomever you may believe in or not, Something, Somewhere must have a sense of humour. There have been so many changes in recent times that that little joke on Life's part is very reassuring.
Not only a new paragraph but a new start after a couple of days. I will tell you why I broke off. The Wizard of Cyberspace, with whom the faithful among you are only too well acquainted, stole all the post but for the above shortish paragraph. Yes, I had pressed 'save', boringly, neurotically often. To no avail. The blogpost had gone, leaving only a tiny, forlorn reminder of the inspiration behind the whole. To add insult to you-know-what, I think I must have been instrumental in aiding and abetting. I think there must have been something I leaned on which acted as 'delete.' There is, therefore, a further problem: what did I do and how can I avoid doing it again? The Guru is too busy to ask and, anyway, I didn't want to delay any longer in case you thought I, myself, had gone off to join the Wizard in Cyberspace.
I had been thinking about change. Recently, the papers have been discussing phubbing. I understand this to mean attending to your mobile phone and snubbing the people you are with in real space and time. As you know, the Guru serves as my insight in to the contemporary world. He phubbs all the time. On one occasion, fed up with the phenomenon and feeling mischievous, as he read yet another text message, I pulled out the crossword and bent my attention to it. The Guru's response: he told me not to be so childish. Now, I happen to know he was very well brought up, so that assessment could have been based only on his conviction that his phubbing was perfectly acceptable contemporary behaviour and in no way reflected bad manners. But manners have changed. Walking - shuffling may be fairer - down my local road the other day, in scorching heat, begging the minimal shade of shop awnings, I was twice cut into by pedestrians overtaking on my outside to duck in to a shop on my inside. On the same day, I was pushed out of the way for an extremely able-bodied teenager to take the seat in the 'bus which is labelled for the disabled. As it happens, politically correctly, it says " those less able to stand". That pleases me. Most political correctness does not. Though I do have one other acceptable example. There is no need to say "manned". One can say "staffed" instead. Political correctness probably deserves a post all of its own but it would be nice to hear your views in the meantime. Liz is off, now, to the world of Mindfulness with the lovely psychologist who comes to help me with it. What with that and political correctness I may yet end up fit for Guru's world of how-it-is-now. Bore da
Friday 9 August 2013
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