Bluto

You may have seen me in cartoons of long ago. My name is Bluto and I am a very, very old man now. I live in a nursing home in Connecticut where I am attended by some very kind carers. To be frank, they have lengthened my life for which I am infinitely grateful. From my room, I can see the ocean sparkling through the trees, reminding me of my youth upon the salt sea waves.

Some of you will recall that I was the arch enemy of Popeye the Sailorman and together we battled for the affections of  Miss Olive Oyl who we met on the harbour front in Boston. In fact, you might say that it was she who tore us apart for up until that time we had been crewmates and drinking buddies onshore. Ah, those were the days.

If you had a page devoted you on Wikipedia, I am sure you would occasionally check it out - for its detail and its veracity. I guess that all famous people do that. When I first saw my Wikipedia page, I was shocked, stunned and hurt. This is what they have to say about me:-

"Bluto is a cruel, bearded, muscular ruffian who serves as Popeye's nemesis and archrival for the love of Olive Oyl. He usually uses brute force and/or trickery to accomplish his various goals. His voice is very loud, harsh and deep, with an incomprehensible bear-like growl between words and sentences."

You know folks, to read that, it was devastating. It was as if Wikipedia knew nothing about me and my complex relationship with Popeye and Olive. Effectively, it was a classic love triangle.

They neglected to mention my challenging upbringing  and how I helped my mother Florence to raise my six siblings after our father ran away with a Canadian floozy called  Gloria.  They also forgot to refer to how my life unfolded after my long years at sea. Through a correspondence course I gained a degree in International Relations and then spent several years working with the downtrodden citizens of Senegal and Bolivia.

And after Popeye and Olive were killed on the freeway just east of New Haven, it was me who delivered their eulogy even though Popeye had stolen Olive from me all those years ago. She was the love of my life and I admit that I never truly got over her.

It is easy and sometimes tempting to portray people as mere caricatures of themselves - focusing on the surface rather than what lies beneath. I may have conveniently seemed like a "muscular ruffian" with a "bear-like growl" but there was always more to Bluto T. Windass than that.  For example, did you know that I wrote poetry?  Maybe  one day, if I remain upon this earth a while longer, I will share one or two of my poems with you.

Kind regards,

Bluto

Quiztime

Are you sitting comfortably? Then let's begin. Today's "Quiztime" has no theme - it's  simply general knowledge. As usual, you can find the answers in the "Comments" section.

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1. How many ribs does a normal adult human being have?

(a) 13  (b)24 (c)26 (d)34

2. What is the capital of Peru? (a) Quito (b) Lima (c) Santiago (d) Bogota

3. What is a young zebra called? (a) calf (b) foal (c) zebling  (d) zebedee

4. Which singer-songwriter from Cleveland, Ohio wrote "Fast Car"?

5. This painting by Sandro Botticelli is housed in the Uffizi Galleries in Florence, Italy - but what is it called?

(a) The Mona Lisa (b) Aphrodite's Shell 

(c) The Birth of Venus (d) The Glorious Renaissance

6. Who is this figure from twentieth century history?

(a) Charles de Gaulle (b) Benito Mussolini

(c) Neville Chamberlain (d) Franklin D. Roosevelt

7.  In which ocean is the island of Mauritius? 

8. Which fictional group had a big hit in 1969 with "Sugar Sugar"?

(a) The Rolling Stones (b) The Monkees 

(c) The Flintstones (d) The Archies

9. This is a picture of a very famous woman when she was a child but who is it?

10. What is Joe Biden's middle name?

(a) La  Fayette (b) Robinette (c) Limerick (d) Scranton

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How did you do?

Duet

Our daughter Frances was born in 1988. We moved house the following year - to this house in fact, I can't remember if it was in that summer or the following year (1990) when we went on holiday to Tenby in South Wales.

We had rented a caravan (American: trailer) on a disused aerodrome  at nearby Carew Cheriton - about four miles west of Tenby. One of the main things I remember about that holiday was the pre-recorded cassette tape I had in the car. It was "Tracy Chapman".  God, I played that tape over and over again that summer. It felt revelatory in its sublime authenticity. There were no dud songs on that album.

Anyway, I heard one of the songs from that album this morning on the radio. It was "Fast Car". A little idle googling later and I was surprised to see that the song had quite recently been  picked up and re-recorded by one of America's new crop of country artistes - Luke Combs from North Carolina. He said that it was his favourite song of all time and that he had first heard it as a child.

"Fast Car" received the accolade of "Song of the Year" at  the 57th Annual Country Music Association Awards for 2023. At The Grammies ceremony in February of this year, Tracy Chapman joined Luke Combs on stage to perform the song together. Here it is, the older maestro and the younger fan, together:-

So, I remember when we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk

City lights laid out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder

And I, I had a feeling that I belonged

I, I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

And speaking of "someone",  there's Taylor Swift dancing away near the front and singing along, unconcerned about who might be behind her. I guess that's what life is like when you are a megastar.

Smelly

The Meiselas brothers from Long Island, New York

For a while I have been dipping into an American pro-democracy website called "The Meidas Touch".  It was founded by Ben, Brett and Jordan - the Meiselas brothers - in March 2020. Their YouTube channel has received over four billion visits.

They seem to be on a mission to puncture Trump's bubble as they pick away at his rambling speeches and unfound claims in an intelligent, non-sensationalist manner. They have really got Trump's number and I  suspect they understand him better than he understands himself.

This morning, one of the "Meidas Touch" videos made me chuckle and then guffaw with laughter. Again, in a non-sensationalist, measured manner they were examining widespread reports that Trump is literally smelly. His farts are by many accounts  repulsive and it is believed he sometimes poops his pants. His former lawyer and fixer, Michael Cohen, calls him Donald Von ShitzInPantz

Has such a thing ever been rumoured before about a leading politician in America or any other country?  Check out the fifteen minute video yourself. You might also get a good belly laugh but look at it in another way and it is simply very concerning:-

Exercising

Another lovely autumn day. There was a light frost last night but I didn't see this morning's evidence on the car windscreens as I was lying abed listening to the BBC Radio 4 morning news show - "Today". I stumbled downstairs at 9am for my customary pint of tea and a bowl of breakfast cereal.

Two hours later I showered, got dressed and was ready to roll out for a long walk. I didn't want to drive far so I headed for the Rails Road public car park in the Rivelin Valley. I have been there to start walks several times before and, just for example, previously blogged about one of them here.

Above - images from my walk by The River Rivelin. As you can see, sunshine made it all rather magical. I walked for two and a half hours. After the Rivelin Valley Road Bridge, I veered up the valley side to Hagg Lane and just before I reached its very end I saw this young woman approaching with her two horses.

I asked if I could take her picture and she kindly obliged. It's likely that she loves her two horses more than anything. She was taking them back to their stable.

Then it was back down to the river, tumbling as nearly all rivers do towards the sea. This time I was walking south of the Rivelin and not north as I had done on my way out. Soon I was back at Clint ready for the fifteen minute drive home. The top picture shows a sign I spotted on the car park noticeboard.

I was very glad that I had chosen to venture out today  and pleased that the plantar fasciitis did not interfere with my pleasure. Since I admitted to myself that that is the problem, I have occasionally  performed recommended exercises - including rolling a ball under my left foot for several minutes at a time. It appears to be working.

Three

Shirley and Phoebe at the millstones below Stanage Edge

We look after our granddaughter Phoebe every Thursday. She is with us all day and most weeks her parents join us after work for their evening meal after picking up little Margot from nursery school.

It used to be that Phoebe needed assistance with her attire but today I noticed that she put on her own coat, put on her own boots and later put on her hat and gloves. She's really growing up. With regard to vocabulary, today I asked her if she could say "Lincolnshire". She mimicked me perfectly and added, "I can say anything Grandpa!"

It was a clear and sunny autumnal morning  but chilly too. We decided to take Phoebe up to nearby Stanage Edge for a walk. Stanage Edge is a three mile long ripple in the landscape - an escarpment made from millstone grit . First of all, we headed for a much photographed cluster of  abandoned millstones before climbing up onto the edge itself.

Up there, a German woman asked me where Stanage Edge was and I said, "This is it! You are standing on it!" Then I gave her some other guidelines. Soon, to my surprise, I noticed her putting on a knee support brace  ready for  her hike along the rocks with two friends.

Phoebe was somewhat over-confident on the edge and kept saying, "I'm all right Grandpa! I can do it!" or "You don't need to hold my hand! I'm a big girl now!" Luckily, she didn't fall. In spite of her assertions, she was closely shepherded.

Back on the main path back  to the car, Shirley let Phoebe change into her wellington boots specifically so that she could splash through the puddles. She enjoyed that.

It used to be that she would never communicate with strangers but today I noticed another change in her. She confidently greeted passing ramblers with a cheery "hello". This was so nice to witness.

We came home for lunch and then afterwards, Shirley took our little princess  for her weekly swim at Dronfield Sports Centre. "I'm not a princess Grandpa! I'm Phoebe!"

The evening meal was pork sausages with fried onions, baked beans and jacket potatoes followed by sticky toffee pudding with vanilla custard but instead Phoebe finished off with  a mini ice cream lolly covered with milk chocolate and nuts. Of course, she got some of this around her mouth. Well, she's still only three.

Remote

My old friend Bert will be 88 years old next month - that's if he makes it of course. I went round to see him last Friday. He has recently spent two weeks in hospital following  an episode that involved significant loss of blood from his back passage.  It was all very concerning but the issue seems to have settled down now with no need for surgery. I tried to read the hospital discharge report but I could not make head nor tail of it with all the abbreviations and the obscure medical terms.

When I went round, his younger son Philip was there. He is effectively Bert's main carer. 

The telephone rang and it was Bert's estranged wife Pat at the other end of the line. I spoke with her for a little while before passing the handset across to Philip. A conversation began about her television and the remotes that work it. Many older people do not find it easy to operate  televisions these days when it all used to be very easy. There was the on/off button, the volume control knob and we only had two channels to choose from - BBC or ITV.

Of course I could only hear one side of the amusing conversation  but it went something like this:-

PHILIP:  What's the problem Mum? ...You need to press the AV button... It's the one next to the TV button... It's got TV above it Mum... No. I said the AV button... It's at the top on the right... They are next to each other... The AV button is on the left... No Mum, I didn't say AB... I said AV. V for violin, not B for Bobby... Yes. That's the one you need to press... No Mum - you didn't need to switch it off... No Mum! Switch it back on again!... I am not shouting Mum. I am just telling you what to do... Just press the AV button... It's next to the TV button. It's at the top... You don't need to change the channel... It's on the sheet I did for you... It's on the shelf... The one under the telly... No Mum you can't talk into it.. You have mixed it up with the phone... Press the AV button. The one next to the TV button...

And so it went on.

It was nice to see Bert again. He seemed calmer than before - less aggressive in his confused comments about Philip and Pat. I brought him a can of Jamaican rum and coke. At the end of a night in the local pub, he would often treat himself to a Bacardi and coke after three or four pints of Tetley's bitter.

Then he would toddle off down the road to Napoleon's Casino where he'd drink a couple more pints or three  and mingle with the other late night regulars and previously unseen visitors but he never gambled. Frequently, he would head home at three or four in the morning, getting up around midday. 

Oh yes, the old boy was a bit of a rogue in his time.  In retirement, he dissed the old maxim: "Early to bed, early to rise, makes Jack healthy, wealthy and wise". That was never Bert's way.  I hope he makes it to 88 and I think he will. In spite of his ailments, he's a tough old bloke.