What's In A Name?

I once met a man – and this is perfectly true – whose name was Alick A Dick (and yes, that was the exact spelling of his name). Why he chose to use his middle initial in everything he gave his name to, I can't say – but he even had a plaque in the foyer of an office block I worked in saying: ‘This building was opened by Alick A Dick...’ Perhaps he thought that Alick Dick (without the middle 'A') would be even more embarrassing, but I think I’d have changed my name to Alex or something, if it had been me. This leads to me to wonder about the sagacity of some parents when choosing their children’s names. I worked with a man once whose name was Scott Scott which, I suppose, is rather neat in an odd sort of way, don’t you think? Perhaps his mother was a fan of Nabakov (I’m thinking of the protagonist of Lolita here), or perhaps she was just plain bonkers. I’ve always hoped to meet a couple whose surname is Hyde and who named their little daughter Tanya, but I guess nobody would be that stupid.

I’ve just had a really pleasant weekend in Sussex. I went to see an old friend of mine who was celebrating her 60th birthday. We’ve been sending each other Christmas cards for years, without meeting, so it was very soothing to get together again – I’d forgotten just how much fun she is! Here is a woman who has been presented with her own share of tragedy and despair, yet who faces it all with good humour and laughter. She made me – who has never truly faced either of those two demons – feel rather humble. I don’t often have the time to feel sad (I’m either too busy, or too drunk); but the acceptance of this fact has made me realize that I also don’t have the time to feel happy either. What a miserable existence – devoid of any of life’s deepest emotions and suffering under a slag-heap of futility, all because I'm too damned busy. This is probably what I meant when I said (some time ago) that when the time comes for me to leave this life (or Earth, depending upon what you believe), I may well be asking for my money back. I want a refund!

Well, I’ve had a busy start to the week. already. I had to deliver some work today which (although unfinished) kept me pre-occupied for a while because I hate failing to meet any deadline. So, this morning I was juggling all kinds of balls in the air – I had to print out this work which needed to be delivered at noon, as well as taking endless phone calls from a demanding client, AND preparing for a meeting this afternoon that was connected to the publishing venture that I (with my colleagues) am trying to set up. No wonder I took refuge in a pint of creamy Guinness later. Fortunately I have abandoned the practice of getting drunk (everything in moderation, don’t you know?), so I was able to continue to wade through mountains of paperwork this evening. I’m very tired though. Does anyone know what this phenomenon known as TV is? I don’t even get time to watch the fabulously acted and skilfully scripted Hollyoaks anymore.

No quote from Horace today – apparently he’s been arrested on 'suspicion of working in the UK without a permit'. WTF?