


I’m sure I should have reacted in the same way as Mr Angry, which is why I never fly. It’s a form of claustrophobia – I also never travel by train if I can possibly avoid it, because passengers these days are powerless to open the windows and doors, and even to travel in a car with central locking is an ordeal. So, in effect, I can’t travel nowadays.
The last time I had a Mr Angry he was sat next to me in a very public place where my reputation was at stake. Also I have a professional connection with him. Inevitably I felt it all reflected on me. It was a bad experience. A really bad experience. Anger of that kind is, I suspect, needing professional help of some kind.
I’ve done the getting off the plane and spending the night in a hotel business, and I do not recommend it. 22 hours late. Our families were interviewed on local news.
Still not sure I wouldn’t rather do that again than sit through what sounds like one of the worst non-crashing flights in commercial aviation history.
Wonderful tale, Kelvin – we’re enjoying it as we sit with our feet up looking out over The Minch at the end of a perfect day on Berneray …(sorry!)
I’d like to begin this morning with a poem. In fact it is something that one of you quoted to me this week. I remembered the fragment and wanted to look it up. “The Place Where We Are Right,” by Yehuda Amichai From the place where we are right Flowers will never grow in the…
Just back from the GFT. Saw The Walker the new Woody Harrelson flick. Lauren Bacall tossed her head in caustic fashion. Kristin Scott Thomas bit her lip over and over again. And Mr Harrelson spent most of the film being a deeply unattractive man. Turned out to be a better film than you thought it…
There is a link here to the poem that I used in yesterday’s sermon. Its the one that begins thus: From the place where we are right Flowers will never grow In the spring.
Prompted by writing the last post, I’ve just updated the 100 things post.
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