Half my life story

Another day, another day. That is as far as it goes. Besides the rain that stopped me doing more photos of places I've been to before, so many people around me seem to be having so much activity in their lives they insist on sharing in detail I thought was confined to my grandma, and all I can do is nod and say very little. When I have activity in my life I rarely mention it as I am quite busy enough doing it. I talk far more about what isn't happening than what is, and have so much time on my hands. And do they fucking moan! Because they aren't getting exactly what they want (while I am getting precisely nothing) all they see are the holes while everyone else sees the cheese. And there's nothing I can do to get any of my own without paying for it, which I have never done.

So my quest to drag someone out of the past continues, with no more results than stage one where I've discovered them and then goes straight to eliminating them. I'm still not sure if it's worse when they don't reply or they do and don't remember me. I have the sort of photographic memory that lasts unchanged through time and misses no one. Some may need a push but if I see a familiar face I've yet not to recognise who it is. Maybe many would rather forget, and unlike me their lives have steadily improved over time rather than buried themselves. So as I need a few decent people around again I prefer the route of what you know as finding new ones happens so randomly it may not happen for years. And in 48 years you meet thousands of people so however low the odds (and remember it's happened to people I know) even one in a thousand means it should happen sooner or later.
My little twist today was not emailing someone directly but their brother, as men keep their names so are easier to find. If he remembers me that'll be a miracle but was the only route open to me for a woman who was one of the best looking I've known, although a pretty miserable bitch.

As it is, I spent a few years with her around one way or another, as although she only turned out to live a couple of miles away I met her on my annual music holiday where she was part of the large crowd of teenagers who all roved the area together while their parents went to concerts and played classical music. She was one of the many girls who was just a bit too young to be interested in me but all what you would call on the verge of aristocracy, public school, parents who ran the country and my standard type. After she stopped going there she turned up on TV, with massive tits which suited her perfectly (very similar to Dolly Parton, short, blonde but natural, and well endowed), and was nice to see her and a number of others I knew on the same programme over its many years on BBC. My school was a showbiz one, and some of the kids followed their parents into the business not through talent but sharing a surname. Occasionally a parent would turn up on school business and that meant seeing greats like Paul McCartney, Jim Dale and John Alderton walking up the school path which doesn't happen in many other places.

I never knew the background of the girls I used to chat up until I'd started chatting, but always managed to find the upper crust ones somehow, and not that I'm showing off as it meant nothing to me, one from Roedean, an MP's niece, an ambassador's daughter, and had one date with a minister's daughter. Coming from a totally working class Jewish background finding myself meeting women who had spent weekends at Buckingham Palace and having lunch with retired MPs was certainly not planned but clearly something I must have resonated with. I met girls from Marble Arch and Kensington and was then introduced to all their even posher friends, some who tried very hard to get me to speak properly and not use common words like toilet and couch. Very much like the Woody Allen films where he goes out with the most gentile of gentiles, and looks like the sore thumb visiting their redneck or upper crust families. Those days are well behind me now, and my connections since then have nearly all been from identical backgrounds as my own. Poor Jewish families who did well through education. First generation professionals whose parents couldn't afford further education. A very well trodden path and not without a vast slice of neurosis along the way.

I suspect this entry should be split into chapters, I rarely read beyond a page myself so shouldn't expect anyone else to, but it's a very long life story which needs more room than these provide.

Progress suspended

Well, there are parallel lives going on at the moment, the one I could have and the real one with nothing really. I've managed to keep occupied each day and besides being in communication with said authorities causing the delays have not a scrap more information when any of these jobs will be complete. So I make a photo, video and shopping schedule and each day do as much as I can in an afternoon and fill the gaps with walks and bike rides. Nearly all alone but used to that now.

My final shopping eneded on ebay, getting two Jewish figures a fraction of the price the one shop had them I visited. Living in exile in multicultural NW9 (minus my own) I decided to make the house a cultural centre so I felt at home once I stepped in from the gentile desert outdoors. I always say when I lived in hampstead Garden Suburb I could be ignored by Jewish neighbours rather than Goyish, but at least you see them around which happened about twice in the 12 years I've been here. I just feel like the latke at a wake, to reverse the cliche.

I am wondering if any of the media projects will complete at the moment, let alone when. Professionals relax as they are paid regardless of usage, us lot who volunteer get nothing besides the exposure. If not it was a nice day meeting another film crew and fuck all else. OK, the last TV programme has produced a nice DVD distributed for the participants, but unless I decide to set up my own TV station no one else will see it at the moment.
Tomorrow is another in a run of free days I've used very well so far, at this rate I'll have one of the largest catalogues of pictures of North London in the world and videoed every main road as well. Anyone can do it with basic equipment but few bother. I've only seen a few road trips in the UK and haven't looked abroad yet on Youtube. After the current TV projects I really want to do a tour of London suburbs as I've seen single episodes and was so fascinated it started me off as soon as I could afford a camera. I know the place as well as anyone could and expect it would have enough people interested to watch, just like 'My Street' tonight on Channel4 which was exactly the sort of programme I would have done myself if I'd slept with (male) producers at college instead of studying law. Or both even. I do have standards though. It is odd that women lose nothing doing so as they just have to lower their standards to advance their careers. I have yet to hear of a woman boss who wanted male applicants to have sex for favours. The world can be a cruel place at times.

Star Trek, the kosher generation

With the demise of Star Trek and Seinfeld I realised the perfect solution to revive the whole lot would be the Seinfeld cast on board the bridge of the Enterprise for the new series, Star Trek, the kosher years.

Jerry as Captain, George as number one, Elaine as communication/yachna officer and Kramer as the token goy in charge of security.

Jerry is on the bridge. Incoming video message from his mother. Jerry, do you really think you can navigate a spaceship? I really think your brother would have been better at it. And there are so many germs out there in space, did you make sure you got your shots? Mom, I've got the Klingon ambassador with me, I don't think he's interested in our family differences. What, you're embarrassed about your mother? I wiped your tuchis for two years and you worry about some schvartzer Klingon seeing me? Mother, this is 2458, we don't call them 'schvartzers' any more. Ach, you think they understand? They can't even speak English without a translator...
George arrives. 'What's wrong with this replicator? The number of times I've asked it to get my chocolate chip cookies right and they still taste like crap. It would be easier to beam to Manhattan and buy a packet whenever I run out. But I'm not paying for it.'
Incoming announcement 'It's been 3 weeks since I've had any sex' 'Elaine, I keep telling you, the communication officer isn't supposed to use the system for their personal issues' 'What's the point of having the ear of the whole ship if I can't use it?' 'It's against Starfleet regulations' 'Starfleet? What do they know about my oestrus cycle? Jerry, I'm almost ovulating and if I don't get a piece soon I'll soon be looking at George!' 'Okay Elaine, I think I can let that go'.

Of course Jason Alexander was in Star Trek before Seinfeld, and enough of the officers were jewish the new format is only a natural progression. Then (being a robot) Data could be information officer and just discovered his jewish identity, as I did fairly recently. 'I am actively exploring my history captain, what are the correct circumstances for saying 'oy gevalt'?' If only I could eat, I want to try kreplach mit lockshen' 'Captain, can we use the Vulcan temple as a synagogue on Saturdays? I've memorised the whole morning service and just need you to qualify me as a rabbi'. Then he decides to become frum and replicates a beard and peyess and wears a black hat. 'Data, we're all jews here but it doesn't mean we have to be orthodox' 'Captain, I feel I must fully get into my true being, it has been 350 years I have been separate from my identity and this is the truest way I can relate to my roots' 'Thank god he wasn't a Jamaican George...'

end of episode one.