On coming out
On Thursday, Simon Clark wrote a piece.
He had a lump which he had removed. It was a fatty lump, nothing life threatening.
But in the course of the piece he mentioned all the friends and acquaintances that had had surgery recently and in particular he mentioned my little drama.
But the most extraordinary case is that of Grandad, aka Richard O’Connor, who writes the Head Rambles blog.
I wouldn’t mention his name if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s been writing about it himself so almost every gory detail is in the public domain.
What he’s gone through is off the scale and I admire him not only for his stoicism but for maintaining his sense of humour. (It helps, I think, that he sees the absurdity of life.)
The reason I mention it is that he calls me by name. Simon and I have communicated many times by email so it’s natural that he should name me. Now my name is no secret. The book what I writ all those yonks ago had my real name on it, and if I write to anyone directly I rarely sign off as Grandad.
There is more to it though.
In the early days I wrote that I lived in Glendoher in the south of Wicklow. There is no such place and it was all an invention. I actually live just above Enniskerry in the north of Wicklow. I wouldn’t lie about the Wicklow bit! Again, I mentioned the frustrations of the filming of “Disenchanted” which tied up the village for a summer. anyone with half a brain could have put the proverbial two and two together there.
Click to embiggen
Most importantly my coffee shop is Kingfisher’s Kitchen in the main square. It’s on;y fair that I mention them. I mentioned to Dave the owner that I was thinking of writing this and he got all excited. I pointed out that yesterdays traffic to the website was nearly all from China and Germany and only later received its normal flood from the UK. In fact there were no recorded visits from Ireland at all [very rare] so if Dave is hoping for a flood of visitors on foot of this great advertising……..
Of course the reason I mention the coffee shop and its actual location is in the hopes that one of you lot will turn up some day and buy me a coffee or three.
Just shout out “Howya Grandad, what are you having?”
You’ll recognise me.
I’m the one with no nose.
That’s a lovely invitation. If I wasn’t too old to go anywhere, it would be something to look forward to. I hope all your younger fans flock there!
A lovely mental picture of the road being jammed with wheelchair taxis and the pavements crowded with Zimmer frames and electric wheelchairs. I doubt it somehow. Only a couple of the locals knew about my online activities and I honestly don’t know of any other readers within striking distance. Unless of course people are willing to go on pilgrimages to view Grandad’s Village?
Don’t bet against it – Ryanair’s cheap enough to cover a day-trip with a bunch of grapes . . . .
Plenty of room. We can take over the square if necessary.
I’m only just beginning to appreciate the serious nature of your op, so apologies if I’ve appeared flippant in my comments. You are coping better than I think I would, especially in your ventures out, although if I had a ‘caff’ like that to go to, I think I’d be there too. I can’t agree about the car – it might be red, but I’d have walked away if a vehicle started telling me what to do! Well done Daughter and GDtY – they sound incredible! Glad the physio is helping and hope your trips to the specialists go well, Keep on fighting, you owd ******,
Ian J
Flippancy is the name of the game here, so apologies are not only not required, they are all but banned.
The car does have a mind of its own but like all computers and electronics [with the possible exception of pacemakers] they can be ignored. In fact I get a chuckle out of it occasionally – yesterday, driving down a road with those matchstick yokes to “protect” a cycle lane, the car screamed a warning at every matchstick in case I hadn’t seen it!
“I’m the one with no nose”
Reminds me of an old joke: “I say, my dog’s got no nose” “How does he smell?” “Terrible!”
[* cough *]