(Tuesday, 7th April 2020)
This series of blog posts is about my, about our experiences, B and I, of living in voluntary isolation and social distancing. As such, I have therefore talked, sometimes rather boringly, about our daily routines with the occasional commentary on the state of things out there, what our politicians are saying and doing, the escalating statistics of the Corona virus pandemic. Each day, however, other thoughts pass through my mind that have been doing so for years, regardless of current circumstances. Only right now they seem to be coming into sharper focus and, somehow, appear to have been raised to a different level of consciousness. I think that I shouldn’t ignore these thoughts. They are part of this whole thing, this process, this time.
I have been listening to a series of podcasts on BBC Sounds, since it was introduced a couple of years ago. I used to listen to them on the Podcasts App, but it all seems to be transferring over to this one new App. iPlayer Radio is no more. ‘A Point of Veiw’ is a one such podcast. It comprises of monologues by well know writers, broadcasters and commentators, such as Will Self, Michael Morpurgo, Tom Shakespeare, Rebecca Scott, John Gray, Sarah Dunant. They are constrained to nine minutes in length and are, therefore, quite dense, with less waffle and are inclined to hit the mark pretty quickly. Good fodder for those with busy lives ... well, for a few of us then! This morning. I was about to listen to the next one by Sarah Dunant. Before listening to her talk, I couldn’t help noticing her profile picture at the head of the prologue, of a young woman of maybe 40-ish. Then I noticed one or two other signs like a trace of crow’s feet, the high necked polo type collar.
We are all human. We are all growing older, every day. We will all become old one day and we will all die one day. But I cannot help but notice how different people, particularly ‘personalities’ and ‘celebrities’ appear to cope with growing older; how many different devices are used to appear young. I know even I, as one who always vowed never to try and disguise my baldness, for one thing, don’t think I have ever tried, consciously to disguise my age - although, having said that, I believe the half-face profile photo used in my social media avatar must be 15 years old, if it’s a day. But I regard that much more as a logo, a kind of recognisable ‘corporate’ image, than as a portrait.
In the case of the prompt for this commentary, Sarah Dunant’s profile photo made her look twenty of thirty years younger than she actually is - she is a mere six months younger than the seventy-year old writer of this blog!
I then tried to put things in perspective. In the current phase of my life, I have developed a whole new battery of friends in various friendship groups, mainly associated with my musical adventures, mostly singing, but also making music by one means or another as well as other volunteering activities. These groups range in age from their twenties up to and well above my own age. The activity of singing, in itself, helps me feel young and positive in my outlook, because it is such an engaging activity as well as being a well recognised therapy. But I keep telling myself that my younger friends and colleagues are, sooner or later going to begin to drop me from any budding projects, not simply because I am ‘old’, they are way too nice to do that, but because I will become slower and less able to keep up the pace and, in that respect, I think (nay hope) that I will have the good grace to withdraw rather than become an embarrassment. So I ask myself, how will that make me feel? How will I respond to that? Will I resign myself to the fact or will I go out and buy some ‘young’ clothes, change my language usage to more urban dictionary, words like ‘cool’ - which for some reason I can’t explain I already do use - and other words, that currently pass me by. I don’t know the answer to those questions. But I do know that I am conscious of it. So I resolve to take it as it comes. I’ll try not to go one way or the other ... either try to dress and look and sound ‘young’ or go to the other extreme, positively invert and become deliberately older, maybe older than I (hope that I might) feel.
So much food for thought. No doubt brought about by the undoubted threat that the current pandemic poses to all of us. Making us more conscious than ever of our vulnerability, frailty, fragility ... mortality.
In the mean time, another online conference rehearsal with Hallmark of Harmony this evening has helped to lift the spirits and genuinely helped to make progress on our latest new song for the forty-two of us who attended. Te new song is Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing in The Dark”. And a reminder of one of the highlights of our last year as UK Champion Barbershop Chorus ... at The annual convention of the Ladies Association of British Barbershop Singers last October, LABBS 2019. And a decision hot off the press from Hallmark's Exec is that we shall simply carry forward this years plans (our two major events now cancelled) into 2021. We shall effectively be British Champions for one more year, but it's a shame that we cannot compete in May 2021 as planned. We will instead return to compete at BABS in 2022.
And so to today's choice of music from Clemency Burton-Hill's "Year of Wonder". From a composer, whose music I love, it is 'Walking the Dog' from Shall We Dance (one of the several iconic Hollywood Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers classics) by George Gershwin.
However you may be affected by anything I've written about, do leave me a comment below or, if you prefer not to, talk to a loved one, a friend or someone you trust.
