Fast Slow Whatever.

Oh its chaos, it really is.

I could do with a New Moon or something astrological to take charge right now because all rational thought is slowly eking away into obscurity.

Like a tidal wave of nonsense the last 2 weeks have been probably the most challenging in the process of moving to LA. Why? I hear you holler. Oh you excitable thing, well let me tell you.

There is (it appears) one last thing to do before I leave stateside and that is my interview. Now I really don’t know much about what this entails aside its in London and it’s at the American Embassy. It probably involves a few questions…. I’m good at this eh? And will also mean I have to undergo some sort of medical, probably a chest X-Ray and star jumps or something. All standard stuff, you know, stopping the risk of disease and tuberculosis etc heading over to the US. Makes sense.

I’ve got a really great job stateside for January but I still need to get there and get my social security number, bank account, etc. Not to mention spend some quality time with my wife.

I’m expecting to hear from them next week. At least that’s what I hope. Got all my digits crossed. Ideally I’d like to be there before Christmas although right now I’ve literally no idea. Nobody has!

In a true Catch 22 scenario I've made plans of leaving (as per the earlier blog) on 20^th December. So I’m actually counting my chickens now. I’d like to point out though in relevance to the last blog that my landlords are not evil wizards casting me into destitution to build a bathroom, but have been super accommodating…. Bit of a rent gag there. You know, accommodating, landlady… see what I did? Touch me.

So, in the final run up to the big switch I’ve been dismantling my house of all my stuff and therefore all my worldly possessions. The house is a monolithic shit tip.

I’ve not bought a CD since I got married (aside The Prodigy’s new album) because I can’t take it or anything with me. Essentially you don’t need a CD collection if you have an ipod. Thanks Steve Jobs. I think.

Other stuff like audio tapes and DVD’s can be housed somewhere like the parents attic.

My paintings and pictures can go to various temporary donors and will be well looked after and my “too decent to throw/unused presents” crap can go to charity. I took all my VHS tapes to the tip though. There is seriously no point in keeping them unless I wanted to spend hours pressing fast forward and rewind trying to find something worth keeping, which there isn’t. And I can safely say that aside home movies there isn’t a single thing in your collection worth keeping. You will NEVER watch any of it again, FACT. It was actually very refreshing stood in the pouring rain throwing X-Men 20 feet down into a skip watching it smash to smithereens – I advise anyone with a cupboard full of VHS to do this. Go luddites.

What else? Oh yeah, so of the last 3 jobs I’ve had set up since In The City, 2 have fallen through… one was today. I’m pretty sure the other will screw up tomorrow. Zero cash in November hat trick! As news editor of The Daily Planet, Perry White once said to Clark Kent “Comes with the territory Kent, comes with the territory”. Oh how right you are Perry. Good job he was Superman.

Finally. And this is a really crap subject. My Nan is seriously unwell in hospital. Not good to write but she’s not going to be around much longer according to the odds.

The docs have found a shadow on her lungs and in turn fluid from there has found its way to her brain. Her heart is so weak she will probably not survive any kind of operation to save her. At 89 everyone agrees she’s got to a ripe old age and even more surprising is that she’s smoked for 75 years since she was 14. NOT an advert to smoke people! Although you can’t help but wonder how she managed it. She is a truly tough lady.

Mortality, lack of work, leaving the house (and Manchester which I will delve into the thoughts of leaving at a later date) and jobs arsing off into the distance make things seem pretty rotten. But it’s not about me for a change. Yeah I’m frustrated but I’m helpless too in a way. It’s not something anyone enjoys and I’m the kind of person that tends to punch those feelings into the ground. Only now I can’t. You can’t dispel the reality of your situation and you just have to sit this sort of thing out.

Of course, when I heard about Nan all my problems didn’t mean shit.

I’ve spent so much time thinking about “fast forwarding” and getting to the next day that out of the blue I remembered a poem read out at a family funeral of recent past…

The Station
by Robert J. Hastings

Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there, so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering - waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.

"When we reach the station, that will be it!" we cry. "When I'm 18." "When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz!" "When I put the last kid through college." "When I have paid off the mortgage!" "When I get a promotion." "When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!"

Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.

So, stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.

So there you go.