Monday, 5 November 2018

I believe there is a vulgar phrase for this

The first time I heard it, was from the mouth of a Californian. Shit happens! I wondered what he was talking about. For a split second I thought he needed the bathroom.

But it is a useful phrase, is it not? Albeit from my perspective, not quite vulgar enough.

I am out to Hong Kong for two days. Sleeping on the plane (saves money); hotel in Wan Chai (run down); definitely not eating out (7/11 will do me a loaf of bread).

This is all thanks to the bank in Hong Kong, closing our humble company, freezing our account (yes we were in the process of closing the residue down) and giving the remaining money to the government. Unless we lodge a legal appeal at the courts. Which means me turning up, in person (wild-eyed, scary hair), to sign on the dotted line.

Cue: Shit happens!

Well, we have done the maths. It's worth one shot trying to wrestle our savings back from them, but not any longer case nor cause. The solicitor reassures us that the procedure is normal for 3-5 months. Well, yes, I can sort of believe this: what administrative 'crime' would you like to commit?* There is a scale of charges for that. When we overstayed our visas, a cash register sang a merry tune at the end of the paper trail.

And then. The hospital changed Dig's SuperJuice. The first line stopped working. His new chemotherapy recipe will no doubt bring new challenges to us all.

But his spirit of fortitude/endurance/obstinacy/constancy should be bottled too, then we could carry a token of Dig Resolve and nothing will ever ruffle us, ever again.

Even under extreme circumstance, Dig shows the same sort of constancy and supreme command of events which reassures me, regardless of wherever and whatever I am doing.

The same sturdy resolve, in fact, when I telephoned him in 2002 seeking his calm and firm reassurance. When throwing myself off a tall building seemed like a good idea because the children wouldn't go to sleep. I was in England. He was in Japan. I was off my head, sobbing. He was at a fancy celebration involving a diplomat and a tray of sushi. He removed himself immediately and talked me down from the rooftop. It was the best £200 I ever spent on a phone call.

Yes, he is still showing that sort of resolve and I need it. It will get me through the week, when there will be nothing suspicious about me as I hit airport security, unstable and unblinking, clutching a bag full of legal papers, an old DVD player, and three pairs of knickers. Without it, I fear for the hours. Even grit can be ground down.

But! There are bright, bright sparkles of everyday! Just like normal. When Shit happens!

I just created a lovely range of note books for a bunch of storytellers. You are fundamental to me, you lovely people, and I don't much care what form you take - in writing, vision, talking, telling. You take me into other worlds where all is not a simple daily desperation.

* By the way, we haven't done anything to merit closure, apart perhaps from not doing anything.

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