The dark and deep, enchanted sea
The trembling moon and the stars unfurled
There she goes, my beautiful world
-Nick Cave
Once again, I've been absent from The Ether, due to baby duties, made twice as demanding by my poor wife's condition. She has been afflicted with carpal tunnel syndrome, which is, at best, rather taxing. For those who are not familiar with the term, carpal tunnel syndrome is caused by compression of the median nerve, which travels through the carpal tunnel, the latter being the passageway that connects the distal forearm to the centre part of the palm of the hand. This compression causes sharp pain when flexing the digits, particularly the thumbs, which basically means that using your hands for anything more complicated than waving hurts like buggery. So, Captain Beck has donned his Cape Of Omnipresence, and is manning all stations himself for the foreseeable future. Still, doing all the cooking, cleaning, shopping, nappy changing, baby dressing, baby bathing, laundry, (and all the rest of the chores that child raising entails) has caused me to slip into a somewhat more sensible routine regarding sleeping times, eating patterns, and well, everything. The concept of fatherhood did, initially, worry me regarding the amount of work it would necessitate and yes; it is a lot of work, but (yes, I'm going to say it) so worth the effort.
In my pre-parental days, I would regard the packs of pram-piloting, cake eating, café dwelling mothers (that would invade every food court in the city) with complete disinterest, the idea that I would one day share some common ground with them never once occurring to me. Now, it's a completely different story. I can walk into any café, restaurant, clothing store, you name it, and strike up a conversation with the nearest pram-pusher about anything at all. As long as it's babies. It's like I suddenly belong to a society that while in plain sight, is unreachable for the average (childless) person. As a man, it's particularly amusing to ask questions and advice of these amiable women, who absolutely delight in handing out tips and pointers, so much so that when in groups, they often try to outdo one another with their parental pearls of erudition. Plus, if you happen to know anything at all about women's fashion, then you're in like Flynn.
Key To The City; Leia and friends
I took my wife Anna and Leia (my daughter, for those who are first-timers here aboard HMS Beck) to a business meeting with me today, and it was a quirky, but enjoyable sensation, strutting around the conference room discussing camera angles and lighting possibilities while she was propped up on my shoulder, eying everyone in the room with a mischievous twinkle in her tiny eyes, as if to say; My Dad used to be in charge at home, but now I'm the one calling all the fucking shots, me, the boss. She's a hard woman, my daughter, but in a world like this one, that's got to count for something.
Autumn has arrived, bringing with it a palette of breathtaking golds and reds, and it's exactly this time of the season that I find most appealing, when there are as many leaves on the ground as there are on the trees themselves, carpeting the damp, sun-speckled woods with a thick, crunchy layer of what looks from a distance like shavings from colouring pencils. The air is crisp, yet warm, and there is a smell to it that can only be described as alive. I shall be out a lot these coming weeks.
My movie choice today is Everybody's Fine directed by Kirk Jones, and starring Robert De Niro, Drew Barrymore, Kate Beckinsale and Sam Rockwell. Set on the Pennsylvania side of New York, in a town called Elmira, it tells the story of Frank Goode, recently widowed and feeling increasingly more aware of the fact that his relationship with his children is a lot more shallow than he would like to admit. After each of his now adult offspring cancel spending a barbeque weekend with him at the last moment, he decides to go against his doctor's orders and takes a trip to visit each of them unannounced. The resulting encounters reveal that none of his brood are what he has been led to believe, the truth about them having been instead embellished over the years to suit his expectations. A brilliantly layered character interpretation by De Niro is accompanied perfectly by the equally masterful Sam Rockwell, and strong performances from Barrymore and Beckinsale all bring this poignant tale to the table with just the right amount of trimmings to leave one feeling satisfied enough to waive dessert. Simple but stirring, this film serves to remind us all that life is indeed what we make it.
Quentin Beck,
October 11th 2010
Signor Beck,
ReplyDeleteWelcome back to the blogosphere or, as I like to call it, the blagosphere. Excellent baby pic; which one’s Leia? Give my love to your wife and tell her there is light at the end of the carpal tunnel. I’ve got a bone to pick with you. Whereas you can sing, perform magic tricks, play various instruments, draw and probably juggle flaming chainsaws while playing Bach’s Goldberg Variations on a harmonium as it hurtles down an Olympic ski-slope, I always comforted myself with the thought that at least I had the power of the written word. Now it seems I must concede that you have been initiated into the dark arts. Which is as much as to say, you write really well. Your prose does what prose ought to; it swings on the page like jazz.
Sounds like busy times for you, as is to be expected, but let’s have a natter about the script.
Speak soon,
Your older and crinklier brother