Off to work on Monday.

June one,let’s get it done,with a hum,and drum,

Lockdown has had its peak or so they say and the children need to be schooled.

Maybe it’s too soon,but the proletariat weren’t consulted,

Of course,we could say no,no show Bo Jo!

But,we do our bit for the cause,the children,the society,and we do more than just clap,

If our humanity means anything,it says that we are willing to still reach out up despite the knocks and the risks to us .

For the government don’t know and can’t know our life path,and they don’t know the half.

If they did know and still decided not to give a damn,then it really would be sad,but they hide behind process,statute,and say”it’s complicated”

Oh well,back to school on Monday and hope we survive and that is all from me.

First Jobs!

Wether they be happy or sad or just dreary,we all had one.

From early ages onwards,they were remembered,thought about ,got,achieved,interviewed for.

Mine was for a washer up person in an ice-cream parlour with an illustrious name:”Macari’s”.

My wage,22 and a half pence per hour!!.

Clearing tables,loading up an industrial dish washer for what seemed 12 hours a day but in fact was more like 8,that was my first job.

The music was Bowie,T:Rex,The Carpenters,and in my case also,Bach ,Beethoven ,Mozart of Brahms,pretty normal for me!!!,

I lived a few miles away from Newquay in a small village and either took the train or the bus without a fuss,

In the Summer holidays,I struggled with my Macari washer up job because I had music lessons that were a must ,so I jacked it in,

That was the end of my first job ,my 22 and a half pence an hour,

The music carried on though through that Summer and I still remember those Chirpy Chirpy cheap cheap magic type songs that wouldn’t be downloaded now as the music industry adapts and streams it’s way into the minds of another group of teenagers.

That was my first job,and I’ve got a feeling ,it won’t be my last.

The Zoom meeting !

“Claire ,can you hear me?”.Brian spoke with his booming baritone voice that she thought the whole of the street could hear him.Tempted to say that he might need to speak up,she resisted and politely said :”Yes Brian”,in her normal complaint tone .

“Oh that’s good Claire because we have a packed programme to get through in our one to one today”- “Sue,any chance of a flat white darling ?”

Claire thinking that she was on mute :” Oh ,and one of your famous back massages too petal”.

Brian replied to a flabbergasted Claire:”Didn’t Quite catch that Claire,might have been too much Springsteen on full volume last night,but can you say again”

Claire,without hesitation,feigned ignorance of the tech:”Oh ,silly Brian,you know just how blonde I can be with all these buttons,I must have pressed the wrong one by mistake,but I’m back 8n the room ,or,in the virtual room as they say.Is that a Pollock Print you have there Brian on your wall?”

Brian,always the wanna be devotee of modern art lapped it up,forgetting that Claire might have been a little too left field in her appraisal of Brian’s nanny,Sue”.

“So Claire,your one to one:so do you want to revise what you said 5 years ago when you joined us as a temp and I asked you what you where you thought you’d be in five years time “

Brian had a nauseating habit of laughing at his own statements as if that might make them funny.Claire now checking that she really was on mute muttered “Pollocks Brian”.Claire thought this was a funny thing to think and it brought a smile as she said it to herself.

Brian,never one to let one of his questions go retorted :”Lockdowned!!

Claire played this mindless game as you do when you have just bought your first flat and you’ve stretched yourself financially too much.”Lockdowned,ya Brian exactly”.

Brian liked the pseudo acknowledgement that Claire bestowed upon and tried to make progress with the one to one.”So Claire,5 years eh,well,your team leader in the Red Zone now “.

Brain had divided the office into Zones ,using colours a little like Pier Mondrian,but the red had as much Zeigeist as a 1970 Wimpy bar to Claire.

“How do you find your roll now ?”

Claire knew from previous one to ones that Brian didn’t really mean for her to tell him that she had major issues with staff turnover,morale,pay and cramped working conditions.All Brian wanted to hear was that she had it all under control and that the sales targets would be met,so she threw out a red Herring that she knew he would obsess about to via the conversation of honest frustrations that she just wanted to write proper articles and not celebrity crap.

Brain looked at Claire through his computer as he sipped his flat white,and this time he decided to issue one of his dress and decorum compliments:”Is that a Chanel top you have one there Claire.”

Resisting the retort that she purchased it from Oxfam off the Kings road ,Claire said that she got it from Zara.

“It’s gorgeous darling “.

“Why thank you Brian”

Thinking that Claire was now relaxed into the one to one ,Brain persisted in trying to delve into the Psychology of his team leader and assistant to the editor“ :Claire ,if you could change anything about our magazine what would it be?”

“Are you still there Claire”,said Brain.

Claire has been interrupted by her cat Zeus,who had occupied the space on the desk in between her and the computer screen.

“Yes,,Brian,I was just ……um,……dealing with um…….my cat “

“Your cat”,enquired Brian .

“Um,yes,my Tom cat Zeus”

“Is he all man then?,as Brain laughed yet again at one of his stupid prurile statements.

Claire remembering to mute :”No ,you cretin,he’s a bloody cat “.

Unmuting :Claire chimed “Oh Yes Brian ,you know what Tom cats are like”

Brain with persistence personified :”So Claire,what would you change about our rag then”,laughing for the millionth time ……

Claire,in her introverted way ,in her intellectual caustic manner that the whole office had learnt to realise should be the features editor and not a minion in Brian’s little empire finally empire.

She picked up Zeus and spoke deliberately into her microphone.With her Zara red top and the deepest of breathes :”O-Kay “

Brian interrupted “O-Kay,I love it “and laughed religiously.

Holding her face and the face of Zeus Claire continued:”Brian,don’t you actually know how bloody hard it is for my sales team to answer the phone and the first word they utter is our main competitor ?Hello Brian,smirking into the microphone .Do you know what is like for them drinking crap coffee ,listening to you and your stupid sexist jokes day in day out,?Im loving this lockdown because I get to write my novel when I should be preparing some Dross for the next edition of O-Kay,while you and the board live in the past ,lose market share,and we all end up without a relevant magazine because of your inflated ego.”

“Zoom Brian”

She was pleased that the mute button was on and Brian had the image of Zeus with a toy wind up mouse.

“Love the Mouse Claire”,laughed Brian.

How about we have our next one to one at Piers on the Kings road Claire?

“Yaaaa ,that would be good”

“Oh Claire,I must think about your salary ,maybe it’s time for you to help out on the features team too”

“Zoom” I like it Claire “

Claire turned as red as her top and just wondered if……..

That was the end of their one to one .

Why didn’t I tell on her?

I never met her,I never spoke to her,I just didn’t feel the need,I just didn’t,It was something that I observed ,something that might happen quite a lot in places where life is a 24 hour merry go round of activity,of stuff ,of human happenings.No,I don’t mean that I live in a one horse town,or a deserted rust belt joint without a mall or drugstore.Nope,it wasn’t like that .

My town wasn’t a Springfield and definitely not a Chicago,but it had something ,it had a personality.Hell,most places in the county were pretty sterile ,destitute of any real life.People were not just automatons ,they had opinions,values if you will which made this thing I witnessed even more confusing.You see,I started out saying that I didn’t know her ,which is kinda true :I’d never spoken to her,never seen her in any context other than with the Sheriff as I being quite a civic sort of guy.You see,I knew that the sheriff was a baptist preacher too,but one of those firebrands that never really stopped talking,OMG about death.He seemed to get off in it somehow ,so I’d switch off andnot listen .She seemed to have a smile that never reached her eyes,she had a look of a candy bar without sugar and maybe a little salt inside .truth was ,i had a real crush on her ,but she wasn’t allowed to make out with kids like the Rothman’s .Nope,we were the spawn of Satan and that’s the verdict of the sheriff.

I didn’t give up on looking at her in church, and I kept looking,and she kept looking at her daddy ,like a game of poker but no one won , not even daddy cos everyone in the town knew he was a jerk and no one was fooled by his plastic smile and his plastic family.Well,time just rolled on in our town and we just carried on with our routines.I wasn’t a quitter though,and i put her on that pedestal and no one,let alone my kid brother was about to knock her off of it.

Now,since our daddy died,we ran a muck really with mom not really knowing how to handle teenagers .Missing the firm hand of our dad,we made our fair share of mistakes ,the ones that kids have a habit of doing I suppose.They weren’t what you call state crimes,more petty if you like.We just like to mend old cars and drive them up the single highway our town possessed of a Saturday afternoon.On this particular one ,we stopped by at the mall to get some lunch .Marvin wanted a hamburger and as he had the dollars,I said that I would browse the local unisex cloths shop as I liked their blue jeans and their stetsons.

It couldn’t have been too long after i entered the shop when i caught Marcia in the girls clothing aisle.This shop was where it was at for the youth of the town and although he knew that Marcia would probably blank him as she always seemed too,he took the diplomatic stance and started to try on one of their range of Texan stetsons.He looked good in it and his muscular frame drew a measure of approval from the assistant at one of the tills.He would have been flattered with just that if what happened next hadn’t thrown him completely.As he placed the jeans and the Stetson in his basket,he looked to the girls aisle for just a moment.As he did,he was Marcia,the paragon of virtue,the bastion of model decorum place a silk scarf in her bag .He was shocked,polaxed,dumbfounded .What would he do?She wasn’t going to pay for it,she was a thief,a shop lifter.As if to live in a time bubble where everything stood still he thought about Marcia.All these years he had put her on this podium.She was a goddess to him of beauty,of virtue,of innocence.He swore to himself inwardly as if he release the tension that he felt.

If the value of the item was the main factor,then He knew he should report Marcia and he also knew that his brother Marvin would do the same,but it wasn’t as easy as that.He not only worshiped Marcia,he loved her but there was another concern that he had.Marcia would certainly bring shame on her whole family,their standing in the community but that really wasn’t it.You see,He knew that Marcia didn’t stare at her father in the pulpit on Sunday out of love or awe,no,it was out of FEAR.That fear was real,it eroded any joy you could have in life.It paralyses a person,reducing them to a skeleton.He knew that when Marcia’s father found out that he would throw her out of the home .In fact,he wasn’t sure where it would all end.As he mulled over in his mind all these ramifications,he came to the conclusion that he would pretend that he never saw Marcia and just pay for his jeans and hat.

Marcia approached the counter assistant with her garments ,paying by cheque.As she wrote her John Hancock,He was standing right behind her realised that the scarf was hanging out of her clutch bag .She hadn’t secured it too well in the rush to secrete it.With all the dexterous skills he possessed at keying cars he moved closer to her and quickly secured the scarf .As he did,Marcia felt his presence ,his smell,his being close to her.As she did,she slowly turned to him and with the only acknowledgement that she had ever given him over 10 years smiled at him and said “Thank you Jed”

That Sunday morning ,Jed still stared at Marcia,but now Marcia makes it her routine to turn her head slowly in his direction while her dad looks up a scripture,and smiles at Jed.

Jed never told Marvin and guess he saw the fear in Marcia’s eyes each and every Sunday and couldn’t add to it.

Now reader,you must judge for yourself what the moral course of action was.Should he have told on Marcia?Well,ilea earth that up to you,but life and experience has taught me that people,families and groups are rarely what they purport to be .Yes,we have have our good points,but we all have frailties,imperfections,and weaknesses,they just manifest themselves in different ways.

Hearts beat!

We know it’s there,we just feel it ,we can’t help it,

Everyone has a heart,everyone knows it beats,

Some keep it beating by just being,by accident almost,

Others have to take tablets,or worse,have cardiac surgery just to keep it going,

Do we take it for granted?Of course we do,

Did we plan to be so ungracious?No,never may that be,

Beating hearts start life,they must keep going u be known to their owners,

If they stop,Of when they stop,the loved ones know,the medics know ,

Let’s be grateful or every beating hearts tonight,

Let’s be grateful for our beating heart .

Yes,hearts beats,they just do,but the fact that they do is still a wonderful thing,

Never take those heart beats for granted,that’s my goal,

Goodnight,

Kernowsmith.

Wish I could sleep!

If I could sleep,then my mind would keep quiet,

If I could sleep,then my heart would miss a beat,

If I could sleep,then the sheep would count themselves,

If I could sleep,then the deep intake of breathe would take effect,

If I could sleep,then the stars would still shine,

If I could sleep,then I would have never worked those night shifts,

If I could sleep,if I could sleep,if I could sleep,

Sleep if you can ,sleep if you can,sleep if you can.

Wish I could sleep.

Social Distance!

From midday meanderings with my dogs,I crossed the road ,

Avoiding joggers,serious walkers in tracksuits with determined faces,

My dogs ,not used to the change in directions,looked confused by my crossing the roads three or four times,

That’s social distance,the “new normal”,that new place ,that mystery trip that has gone from days into weeks ,

If Sunday might herald a change for our distance ,our interchanges along the pavements,the corridors,the forest tracks,then let’s breath the shared air ,the simple things ,the communal spaces,

Let’s be unconditional in our shared space ,our appreciation,our allowing others their social distance and wish them well,

Like pets,that unconditional approval is so real and genuine right now ,

Keep our distance,but don’t be aloof,don’t be superior,just be human.

Kernowsmith.

Terrific Tuesday.

If I call it Terrific,then it might come true,it really might,

If I call it Tuesday as indeed it truly is,then it might just be another lockdown day,

No,calling it terrific Tuesday ,although strictly speaking it hasn’t truly started,it might affect my perception of what happens today,

Tuesday ,that two syllable word with three vowels and three consonants,counting down to terrific,

Make it terrific ,even if you might not truly feel it,because nature at this time of the year always has a terrific Tuesday,

Make it terrific if only for a part of your day ,if the Porridge part went well,the dogs behaved,the bones moved during your exercise,

I reckon if Timmy Mallet was brought back to motivate us,then he might make it a terrific show :”Are we at Terrific Tuesday yet”?

If Terrific Tuesday hasn’t bored you too much ,if your willing to believe that Santa will survive the Pandemic,then look out for lockdown muses from yours truly,

They might not be terrific,they may not always rhyme ,but they might just chime,

Yes,for just a little while,let’s make this terrific Tuesday,and wherever you are,whatever your up too,have a good Tuesday!No,what the hell,have a terrific Tuesday.

Thanks for indulging my old brain with the few remaining active cells .

Kernowsmith.

Walking !

Such a simple form of exercise it seems to us all:our various stride patterns aside,it’s a pretty universal form of exercise .With the advent of tracking devices,those measurements become daily markers of progress or lack of it,detecting our activity if the software allows,and attempts to spur us on to some set goal or target to get us on our feet and moving.

Whatever pace we set ourselves,or,in my case,the variant zeal of my dogs,it will always be the process of putting one foot in front of another in a cadence that we can handle,We sometimes talk about walking pace as if that is a pre determined speed but in reality,it’s whatever speed we can manage and the emphasis should always be on what we can manage.

If our daily form of exercise is walking ,then we can use this as the building blocks for other more demanding forms of workouts if that is our wish.Having tried most forms in my lifetime ,somehow ,I always end up with my trusty dogs and my “one foot in front of the other”,or in their case,one paw in front ,and then two to reverse to further examine that tree!!

Admittedly,walking in crowded areas isn’t so enjoyable,or just having to walk to get the shopping or prescription can be a trial.These necessary things can sap us of energy as our minds are usually full of what we have to do when we arrive at the store or pharmacy.That said,the accrued steps that we have undertaken do have a value and every non car journey surely is a minor victory if we can manage it.Im not an eco warrior,but I do feel that walking gives a different perspective to so many things and I would encourage anyone who hasn’t a routine of walking to at least think about it.

When I decided about 10 years ago now to use a period of time in my life where I wasn’t so involved in the volunteer sector to exercise,I sought the advice of two respected PE teachers.Expecting a whole raft of circuit training,running,swimming or other high octane pursuits,I was pleasantly surprised by their questioning about how sedentary I was at that time.Trying to be as honest as I could,they helped me to understand that my base line fitness was extremely low,and started to encourage me to get out of the classroom and staff room at breaktimes and just walk around the grounds .This ,initially,I found quite a shock,as I hadn’t really sought the outside spaces that had always been available to me .It might have taken me a good couple of months until I actually started to look forward to my walks and my walking pace increased ever so slowly until I could talk and hold down a conversation while I walked at a fair old pace .

This regime may not be good for everyone ,or it won’t be possible for everyone,but now,some ten years following surgery and major bouts of mental illness,I have the walking bug ,and I have my own pace and I have to thank those wise younger teachers for pointing me in that direction and allowing me the time to develop my walking too.

It’s now not a chore to walk and although I often walk alone,I have my two trusty dogs to accompany me on my daily route.

Thank you.

Kernowsmith.

My weekend !

As each day during lockdown can appear to be rather much the same,my muse today is about an observation ,a surprise,or maybe a feeling of pity ,concern and respect all rolled up into one.It started with a lockdown walk on Saturday morning and one that found me quite drained after a bad nights sleep.Those feet were like glue ,pressing and embedding into the tarmac as I made a slow passage around my Dorset town.

Walking towards its centre,there were a few people out and about walking,with one or two runners sprinkled into the sides of the pavement.Some folk I recognised while others could have been walking down the Kings road for all the notice of my attempts to say hello.Granted,these are peculiar times,but I don’t think that saying hi is a crime even in lockdown.Walking past the heritage centre and the closed coffee shop ,I realised that the local butchers along with the pet shop were open for trade and there were a number of people waiting in line at the prescribed distance to purchase goods from these businesses.

It passed my mind that these were independent enterprises needed a regular clientele to stay afloat as these times would affect small shops just as much as the larger chains.With business rates the constant bone of contention to so many,it was a good thing that they have a degree of respite from some of these charges during these times.As people looked at me ,and I at them,I reflected that at that time,there had only been one recorded death due to covid 19 in our small town.That probably would be less than the number who would die of influenza during a similar period like the lockdown.However,influenza does have the bonus of being containable by means of the flu vaccine.It is,however,not lost on people the affects of news bulletins and articles that highlights the affects of this pandemic on us all and I suppose that fear that seems to penetrate the eyes and souls of ordinary folk is understandable.

Walking further now ,and with my legs getting a little more happy with their cadence,I realise just how easy it is to cross the road ,just the sheer reduction in the volume of traffic.Its like the town has a massive open air concert of bird song with no interruptions.That consciousness gave me a lift and also a smile to my face.

Across the way from the Royal Brompton and Harefield hospital,is a church that remains open for locals in that part of London’s,and also for people who have relatives in the National heart hospital.It strikes me that the building is only around a 1,000 metres from the Kings road,but somehow it has a friendly atmosphere.Those j spoken smiles of warmth,of understanding ,of shared concern through suffering if you like.It was that recollection of the hospital that I visit so often and the reality of the sheer number of precious ones who won’t make it in this thing we call living that gave way to a feeling that I should persist in my saying hello,that basic greeting ,that simple but embracing lockdown freedom that I have.

Not wanting to get too over the top,I walked along burnbake road ,towards black hill ,passed the co-op towards the road leading to my home.Across the way,I saw a man whom I had witnessed clapping these past Thursdays for the NHS ,he smiled and waved and then to my surprise he said:”It was so lovely to see you and your dogs out the other Thursday” .It was a basic thing really,like the knowing smiles in the church opposite the Brompton,such a simple thing ,but somehow underpins communities ,that shared thing,that feeling of concern.

I went home and made a cup of tea and cuddled by dogs and they looked at me weird as if to say……..

Thank you.

Kernowsmith .