Day 3: discovering
For me and my personal needs for sanity, it was a wonderful day. You ask why? Well, I'll tell you why. Thanks to two of my most faithful friends, Barbara and Billie, I am now able to watch my Manhattan television all the way across the pond. This miracle is brought to me via my Slingbox, a device that streams my TV over the internet. Since I've decided that it's best for me to rest in my hotel room thereby creating no stress, this is a godsend. My two friends were able to gain entrance into my NY apartment and merely turn on my television because my cable provider, Time Warner (whom I disdainfully refer to as Slime Warmer) thinks it's OK to turn off my cable box in the early morning hours every day. Because of my dueling double disabilities, entertainment for me comes in two forms, television and internet. That's the reason I'm dependant on these two technologies. End of joyous rant. I am now at peace.
About 4 months ago, I received an email from James McDonald. He introduced himself as being involved with a major motion picture directed by Stephen Frears. The bell went off: this was the director of a movie about Jenkins starring Meryl Streep and Hugh Grant. I knew that it had already been made in May and June of 2015 with Liverpool, England as its location (that city today is reminiscent of the Manhattan of the 1940s). He was writing to me requesting a good copy of a particular image of Cosme McMoon with Arnold Schwarzenegger. I responded by saying that he would have to get permission from Gregor Benko, the owner of the original photo. I also sent him images of St. Clair Bayfield that I personally own . He said they were to be used in the credits of the movie and that my name would be included in a list of Thank Yous. I later wrote to him inquiring about giving some recognition of my documentary with my name. This will happen.
Tonight, James met me at my hotel and we hopped onto the tube to go to dinner. I find the subway trains here much more modern in interior, but the ride is rougher. One must step up into the car, something I obviously had to take note of. This would be my single experience of the tube.
The first restaurant we found was much too noisy for me to hold a conversation. At the next one, we were told we would be waiting for a table for an hour. At the third restaurant, we settled in.
I'm always for trying local cuisine. I had my very first cider, a black pudding for an "starter", Breton fish stew for the main course, and for dessert, a lemon tart with raspberries.
James and I conversed non-stop about everything. It is always engrossing for me to talk about Jenkins with someone who is interested. He relayed two quotes that I am anxious for him to email them to me, one about the singing of birds and another about dedication to music. We also share the same opinion that the word "coincidence" should be struck from the dictionary.
I got out my camera to have a photo made but it wouldn't work, so the waitress took one with James' phone. I'm waiting for that as well.
The two very moving quotes I was given by James:
Heard from a singer called Kathleen O'Sullivan who taught him some of her repertoire here in London a few years ago:
The forest would be terribly silent if only the best birds sang.
Stanley Robertson, the Scottish Traveller ballad singer, told his friend Sam Lee that:
When you press a ballad to your heart and upon taking it away see an impression of your own heart in it, then, and only then, are you ready to sing it.
I had my first London taxi ride back to the hotel. The back seat could sleep three people very comfortably, with a huge space between the seat and the front seat. The first thing I did was get out my camera, and I found it was back in working order, PTL. When we arrived at the hotel, little white lights at the bottom of the front wall started to blink (nice!) and the cabdriver got out to open the door for me which was very kind of him.
I then spent four hours trying unsuccessfully to perfect tying a bow tie.
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