I’m something of a jazz fan. Not an informed one who can tell their Basie from their Mingus and who thinks BC means Before Charlie (Parker). I’m more the kind of fan who matches the music to my mood. Right now, as I write, I’m listening to John Coltrane and Duke Ellington getting very sentimental. Taking my cue from the music, I’m so languid I could almost slide off my chair. Or gaze soulfully into a cocktail glass. Continue reading Why life is a lot like jazz
Let me ask you a question. If someone called you “quirky”, would you regard it as a compliment? What about “eccentric”, “idiosyncratic” or “odd”? I know what I’d be thinking: quirky good, eccentric and the rest, not so much.
I have a point to make here, and it is this: there’s a whole group of words all basically suggesting the unconventional. Yet some people are applauded for being different while others are dismissed as distinctly strange.
We women of a certain age often complain of becoming invisible. Nobody notices me any more, we sigh. Not even those cheeky builder blokes who’d whistle at anything remotely female (unless their preference is for other blokes, and even then they might give a woman the whistle just to be kind). Once you can pass a building site completely unacknowledged you know it’s all over. You have entered the twilight zone of the living dead. Continue reading Visible at any age
Today I would like to pay tribute to the twosome who have absolutely set the bar for fabulousness. Yes, ladies (and gentlemen if there are any of you), I give you Edina Monsoon and Patsy Stone. Who else? The stars of Absolutely Fabulous are in a class of their own. When it comes to the art of being über fabulous, these two wrote the manual and then tossed it away. Continue reading The AbFab guide to being fabulous
What is it with us Westerners and our fascination with wise men (and a few women) from the East? The insights of Asian cultures have interested us for centuries, but it only took off in a big way when the Beatles went to India and embraced Maharishi. Continue reading Who’s your guru then?
Confession time: I am a Gleek. Yes, at 60 – older than the oldest character on the show – I am a devotee of high school musical show Glee. How did this come about? Is it a case of uncanny attunement with Gen Y? Or simply arrested development?
In my previous post LOL I briefly touched on how much our taste in humour may change with age. Glee is billed as a “dramedy” but for me it’s the comedy aspect that’s most appealing, especially those insulting riffs by Sue Sylvester, Brittany’s deadpan delivery and Kurt Hummel‘s camp dance moves. I love the song ‘n dance numbers, the more dancing the better. Straight songs, not so much. I’m not a fan of the big swelling ballad (or smaller ones, come to that) and all the blatant manipulation wrung out of every emotional note.
But back to Glee and why it keeps drawing me in. Could it be I’m indulging in la recherche du temps perdu, even though my own adolescence had only the vaguest resemblance to the Glee scenario? Or maybe a secret sense that if I can still laugh at (mostly) the same things that amuse the young, then maybe – just maybe – I am not completely past it (whatever “it” means). In short, maybe I still have a vestige of awesome wickedness…?
In the spirit of Glee, I dressed up in an outfit that I imagine an Ancient Gleek might wear (see pic). Everything is from my regular wardrobe, though never before assembled in this particular juxtaposition (except for the hat, which is actual fancy dress I once wore to a party).
I can’t end without mentioning the sad death last year of Cory Monteith, Glee’s beloved Finn Hudson. The storyline that traced the relationship between him and Rachael Berry was one of my favourite parts, as it was for most Gleeks. Now we’ll never know the next chapter. Cory’s lopsided smile will always tug at my heart.