Once in a while, one has a week that is so out there, so crazy, so rare, that it’s almost impossible to believe. So difficult in fact, that it makes one question if there is anything that is real at all. I’ve just had one of those weeks. For its prelude, I put on a mixtape my guitar teacher gave me, about half a life time ago. I listened to it because it had always intrigued me; it was jazz, but I didn’t hate it. I didn’t even dislike it, and I always wondered if it would grow on me. One of my favourite artists on the cassette was and still is, a guy called Kenny Burrell and now was the time to find out if I would finally truly like him. I had recently earned a good £30 from teaching guitar, so I decided to buy his apparently best album, Midnight Blue. It only cost around £3 anyway, and that was including the relatively slow delivery. (That’s not the crazy bit).
(This is)… Soon, my order was forgotten about and six days passed. Not much had happened, but my trust for my new (ish) dog was slowly being built upon. In fact, I eventually came to the conclusion I could now leave him free to roam my house, without supervision. Anyway, after a couple of hours of work, I went for a 7.5 mile bike ride to get some food from a cafe. On the journey to the foodery, you have to pass four traffic lights. Even though the way they are spread out is far from predictable, I like to spice up the ride through them and play a fun game; the more green lights you pass, the more points you get. Red lights get you no points. As I also go on frequent bike rides to a another very nearby destination, I have made many attempts at trying to get a perfect, all green score through those familiar bulbs. Perhaps around 100. However, I had never managed to do so. But would I, today?
The first signal I went through was indeed green, but I didn’t really think much about it. Maybe 4 out of 5 times it would be red but still, it wasn’t exactly an otherwordly occasion for me, and I wasn’t feeling too optimistic at this point. I carried on with my journey. Perhaps five minutes later, I reached the next checkpoint…. It was green… :S Again, this only happens around 1 in 5 times. It was at this moment, I was thinking this outing could be something rather special. My fingers were crossed, but at the same time, I wasn’t getting my hopes up. The next close-by light was also a glorious emerald colour, though these two recent lights are almost always matching, so that wasn’t a surprise. Again, the following go sign wasn’t a shocker either, as it only ruins my journey in around 1 in 10 instances. The REAL challenge, would be to blitz through the harder lights on the way back from the mini restaurant. What did I eat, there? Shepherd’s pie and rock cake in custard. (Not at the same time). Mmmm. Alright, back to business.
Don’t fuck things up for me now, I thought as I cycled. I shouldn’t have been so negative, though; yes, it was another pass through! Again, it was only a 10% chance of fail, but the harder green was coming up. For reasons I find very hard to explain and don’t really matter, the route home skips a sign, but what was arriving was still a notoriously unpredictable one to encounter. Success! Just one more to go, now! Feelings of euphoria rushed through my veins, compounded with triumph and a touch of the surreal. Could I really do this? I’m not a gambler, I’m not a huge hedonist, why was something so wonderful and ridiculous happening to me? Come on, come on, come on! It was only a few minutes away and I could barely contain my excitement. Minutes turned to painfully slow seconds… And… Just as I thought I was going to make it…Noooooooooooooo! It. Was. A. Red… Defeated, I cycled home half heartedly and with a new found apathy. I opened the door and found the dog had mangled my new jazz CD, that had been posted. Noooooooooo. Annoyed and impatient, I ordered it again, but with a faster delivery. I was GOING to listen to the music!
A couple of days of work passed, where I tried to get more followers of my Unsubscribe fan page. I didn’t really get anywhere with that, but at least the package arrived. Glorious, mysterious and relatively favourable jazz music to listen to, whenever I wanted. It was the time to add it to my ultra collection. I just needed to squeeze it into the B section, and get ready to shift a whole lot of CDs after it…. ….. …. Ah, it seemed I had already bought it. Wtf. I must have ordered it years ago and completely forgotten about it. Ok. When I said Mr. Burrell had always interested me, I guess I was exaggerating. Well, it can be a Christmas present for someone, I suppose. Let’s move on from that and talk about something completely different. The next day would be fireworks night. It would be more of an occasion if those colourful explosions hadn’t been going on and on for the last 2 nights, but whatever. It was still something to look forward to, as I did some more reviewing for music website, theindependentvoice.org.
Ok then, a day had passed yet again, and it was the time to get out those ancient Chinese inspired rockets. Me, my dad and my brother started off the celebration with a firework ‘cake’. Why was it called a cake? Probably because the projectiles flew right at us, and nearly into our fucking mouths!! Yes, apparently you’re literally supposed to eat them. Wow. Ok, next fireworks, then. Non-edible rockets. Can’t go wrong there, though we were all somewhat nervous as they were set off. We didn’t have to be, though. The rest of the evening was a huge success, medically speaking and there really is little else to write about. Lots of bangs, lots of pretty colours, minimal screams, etc. Rather disappointingly, there was no bonfire and consequently, visibility was well beyond ten meters. Never mind. How about we end things with a topical joke? Why do unemployment rates plummet on Guy Fawkes night? Because the fire works. That’s all from me, byeeeee.
Ok, I’m still not finished. My plan after finishing the bulk of the last few paragraphs, was to go to the gym. When I got back, I was going to proof read everything. My journal’s theme was intended to be my largely mundane week, written as if it was very exciting for comical effect. However, rather annoyingly, something interesting did happen to me on my travels, ruining the subject matter of my entry. Because my bike’s rear light was twisted to the side, the car behind me couldn’t see me, and I got knocked off it and landed on the road, onto my head. Ow. I didn’t seem to be too badly injured, but an ambulance was called, just in case. When the medics arrived, I got asked questions such as ‘do you know what day it is’. ‘Fuck… that’s a tough one’, I thought. ‘Wednesday?’ I responded. ‘Good, and do you know what the date is?’ ‘Well, the 5th of November was on Sunday, so today would be…. the 8th…’ I said smugly. I know it sounds kind of pathetic the way I correctly answered such a simple question with such pride, but it did feel like an achievement at the time.
As I got in the ambulance, I was asked more questions such as ‘is this painful’, and ‘is that painful’, etc. I always answered ‘no’, I just said I had a headache. When I arrived at the local hospital, I got asked similar questions and gave the same apparently surprising answers. I wanted to suggest I was some kind immortal deity figure, who couldn’t even get hurt. However, I didn’t as I assumed many of the people treating me were Muslims, and I didn’t want to offend them. Still though, my lack of injuries get you thinking, right? I spent another 1 and a half hours or so lying in bed just in case, and I have to tell you, they were some soft and comfy mattresses. After I left, I went shopping, then home… Ok, NOW I have nothing else to say, other than I still have a bit of a headache and have one more topical joke. Here goes… ‘An apple a day keeps the doctor away? If that were true, there would be no more need for medical research’. Alright, ciao.