We drift in and out of consciousness following some surgical operation or physical assault, or overindulging with alcohol or drugs, drift off to sleep and sometimes feel our lives just …… drift!

Shopping, I know what I want and where I am going to buy it; quite focused and engaged. In the crowded North Laines of Brighton I get frustrated by those ambulating, strolling, drifting even. Occasionally I hear my inner voice: ‘Hey! Slow down! It’s probably quicker if you just go with the flow; you will certainly be less stressed, able to observe more!’ for there is much to see in these busy streets and quirky shops.

Got me thinking about drifting …….. and the first thought that came to my mind, well actually the second as the first was the chorus of the song Drift Away, was about Continental Drift. The continents we know today drifted from where they had first formed. One particularly well known aspect is that what we now know as the South American Continent fitted neatly into the African Continent; you can imagine Recife in Brazil nestling up to Lagos in Nigeria, before the latter drifted away. Another fact is that the Himalayan mountain range and Tibetan plateau have formed as a result of the collision between the Indian Plate and Eurasian Plate; the first impact started some 50 million years ago and that movement continues today.

My first offshore sailing trip was on the west coast of Scotland, on an engineless 30ft yacht called Jutta. There was very little wind over the week and we drifted …… although at some point tried to make progress towards the harbour of Tarbert Loch Fyne by either pulling the yacht with an inflatable or by getting a tow; the latter was more successful.

Many years later skippering a 42ft yacht from Kiel to Olso, on the return leg near Copenhagen we had no wind and drifted for an hour or two, before accepting a tow into the nearest marina. Always difficult judging when to let the tow rope go as you needed enough forward momentum to get to a berth! In the same part of the world, I remember Billy standing on the foredeck of a yacht in a race from Kiel to Eckernförde and lighting a cigarette to see if the smoke would indicate any puff of wind as we drifted!  Incidentally Eckernförde had some of the best smoked eels in the world.

Drifting is so often associated with danger in a sailing sense, drifting towards a lee shore or towards rocks, but Eva Fosbery, the seventeen year old who was to become my great grandmother, recalls something else. Following the grounding of the barque The Queen Bee in August 1877 on Farewell Spit in the north of South Island New Zealand (see PCs 152 & 154), she wrote: “I think the Captain wanted us and the others in the lifeboat to stay together, but no sooner had we got on board the crew cast off and we drifted away; we should have had the Chief Officer and some food and water with us! I could hear the Captain yelling for us to come back but the crew seemed resolute in their actions. I was told later that those left on board constructed a raft but we lost sight of the Queen Bee after about seven hours so at the time imagined we were on our own.”

‘…. drifted away;’ – but they were all saved from beaches in the Marlborough Sounds two days later.

Elmslie’s Beach

Dobbie Gray wrote about losing himself in the music in his Drift Away (1973) with its chorus:

“Oh! Give me the beat, boys, and free my soul

I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away ….”

As I drifted off to sleep the other night, I had another memory, of The Drifters, an ‘American doo-wop (Note 1) and R&B/soul vocal group’, formed in 1953. ‘Who?’ you might cry! Well, surely you’ve heard the songs “Save The Last Dance For Me” (1962) and “Under The Boardwalk” (1964)? Maybe not!

Away from the world of lyrics this is a simple illustration of a drift net, used for catching, herrings, mackerel and pilchards:

Mona Storkaas, a Norwegian ceramicist, found fame attaching her pieces to driftwood she collected on the seashore. This one from 1986 :

In the mining of ore, a drift is a horizontal shaft that follows the vein. Phosphorus flares suspending by a little parachute will drift to earth. Clouds drift across the face of the moon, leaves from trees and shrubs drift into piles in the corner of your garden and snow drifts and makes driving extremely difficult if not impossible:

I have driven hundreds of thousands of miles in my lifetime but I don’t think I ever needed to, or felt inclined to ‘drift’. Drifting is a driving technique where the driver intentionally oversteers, with loss of traction, while maintaining control and driving the car through the entirety of a corner. James Hodges, a bit of a petrol-head, tried to teach me the technique but he’s no longer here so can’t comment on my ability!

There was a certain repetition to Army life in Germany in the 1970s; individual training kicked off in January, sub-unit training followed, then exercises at regimental and divisional level across on the North German plains in September and October. Repetition can be boring and after three years I felt my career was drifting, no longer driven, my life in neutral, so I found more excitement in sailing in The Baltic – although sometimes we drifted even there!  

If you catch my drift? (note 2)

Richard 28^th July 2023

Frogmore, Devon

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS If you read PC 342 about relationships and my new-found abbreviation IRL, I noticed that an R&B singer called Mahalia has named her latest album IRL

Note 1 Not sure I have come across this interesting description before – ‘doo-wop’!

Note 2 First used by Shakespeare in the C16th when drift meant a stream of thought or meaning.

Sufficient time has passed since Celina’s sister Ana Luiza died that I feel I can revisit my thoughts from seven months ago. It was on a wet Monday early in December last year I found myself ‘in support and under command for movement’ (Note 1) of my wife Celina. In short, the previous week Ana Luiza had gone into the local hospital’s ICU after suffering a blockage to her respiratory tract, which resulted in oxygen deprivation. She did not recover.

I find it hard to accept that the funeral was planned so quickly, brought up to believe the importance of a time interval, to come to terms with a death and to allow those at a distance to attend if possible. It feels unseemly to bury someone within a day or so, in haste almost, although this is very common in so many faiths across the world. The contra view: “Let’s get this over with, then we can grieve and reflect.”

The family gathered at the Centro Funerário de Cascais in the suburb of Alcabideche, Portugal, around 1000, to sit with her body and to accept the condolences of friends and those who had cared for her at Quintaessencia, (note 2) a day and residential home in Abrunheira that  “ …. promoted the greatest possible autonomy for the residents, stimulating their development and valuing their abilities, in a safe environment.”

I recognised Miguel Mata Pereira who had been the Clinical Director but was now pursuing his PhD in Educational Psychology. I remember visiting before Ana Luiza had moved from Rio, being given a tour of their wonderful facilities. “You allow the residents to smoke?” I asked seeing a resident come out and light a cigarette. “Why not? We must treat them as adults with their own free will. And if they form romantic attachments with others, so be it!” It was a refreshing attitude of someone caring for vulnerable people; the easy answer was ‘control’!

A few years ago Celina’s brother had taken advantage of Portugal’s hugely successful ‘Investment Residency Visa’ policy. (Note 3) The international nature of his children’s school is reflected in some of the other parents who had come to pay their respects, a Brazilian/Swiss property developer and his Brazilian wife and a South African and his Mexican partner.

In keeping with the Catholic tradition, Celina’s sister’s body lay in an open casket, surrounded by flowers, a posy wrapped by her hands; she looked very peaceful. I am not a fan of this open display, preferring my memories to be of the living and not possibly replaced by that of the dead. But while I type this, the latter is all I see! Around midday a priest arrived to conduct a short service around the coffin. Naturally it was in Portuguese and I had no real idea what was said, although I recognised the Lord’s Prayer with its familiar lilt; others mumbled the automatic responses to the priest’s petitions. The family were offered a little communion wafer but oddly no wine. After the priest left I sensed the atmosphere was slightly lighter and memories surfaced; for example, how Ana Luiza had claimed to be married to her fitness instructor Leno and had two children! Everyone agreed she had had a very fertile imagination!

In another of the crematorium’s areas, the gathering was all over in three hours. I glanced through the huge glass entrance wall, envious at those leaving, but I was ‘in support’ so had to remain. Time has no meaning for those who grieve, for those whose heart has broken; the moment to say goodbye should never come but it does, just like a train departing, or the moment an examination ends, or when the curtains close after a stage show or the conductor’s baton is allowed its final flourish to bring the orchestra’s performance to a close.

The falling drizzle matched the human expressions of grief, completely natural and beneficial. Those who had looked after her in Quintaessencia had come to say goodbye, that bond between the carer and the cared-for very evident. Isabella, who did the midnight to midday shift because it suited her, says she was extremely popular; Andre, who was inconsolable at Ana’s death, was just that, inconsolable. I recognise the same issues we have in the Care Sector in the UK, lack of staff. The Spanish sector pays more and many Portuguese move across the border.

The coffin’s lid was finally placed gently over the base: a last look, a last heart-wrench and then the departed truly depart through doors to the crematorium. On the way home, there was silence in the car, everyone’s own immediate thoughts crowding out the external world, whose urgent nature would soon re-impose itself.  

That physical umbilical cord that started life is finally severed forever, although the emotional one has no end.

Her cousin commented: “Ana Luiza was in a way God’s gift – to help us be more loving and caring to others.”

Richard 21^st July 2023

http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 The Military has various states of command, for obvious reasons. ‘In Command’ and ‘Under Command’ are well understood but there are others. As a Gunner, we were often ‘In Support’ of some operation, the command element remaining in the Royal Artillery Chain of Command. In a complex operation we might have had to fit in with an overall movement strategy, so could have been ‘In Support and Under Command for Movement’.

Note 2 Translated as ‘the fifth element’

Note 3 There was another visa option for retired individuals, to settle in Portugal and pay no tax for ten years. It was so popular with Finnish pensioners that the Finnish Government complained it was putting the country at a financial disadvantage! (Pensions being sent to Portugal and spent there – as opposed to being spent in Finland)

“Ah! Richard; haven’t seen you for a while. How are you?”

Always good to be greeted personally wherever you go, whether it’s in Gail’s where we buy our San Francisco Sourdough bread, by Dean who runs the ‘Fruit & Veg’ stall at the top of George Street, by Rahmi where I collect my paper-copy newspaper every morning (Note 1) or by those here in The Hope who, after two years, recognise me. It grounds me in my local community.

Josh is already organising my double espresso so I look around to see who’s here: I spot Sami & Lisa, both head down into their mobiles and Mo, sitting by herself. Libby is loading the dishwasher so I naturally ask if she has news of Susie. Apparently she’s working in the Queenstown ski chalet until the end of the month and then starts her way north; no news is good news, as they say!

I am surprised to see Sami so walk over. “I thought you two were going to Berlin? That’s what you said last time I saw you.”

Lisa rolls her eyes to heaven. “Well, yes, that was the plan and it was all booked with EasyJet (Note 2). Then 10 days before we were due to fly they cancelled our outbound flight with no alternative. Two days later they offered a flight to Milan, a three hour stopover, then a flight to Berlin. My knowledge of European geography said this was nonsense!”

“So did you get your money back?”

“We had booked through Opodo, an online travel agent. Eventually got all the money back on the hotel but still almost 20% short on the flight costs. They say that some charges are non-refundable, charges such as Online Baggage (£25), Priority Boarding (£18) and Online Seats (£47); ‘It’s in the Ts & Cs’”

“But these are for a flight which didn’t happen! They cancelled it!!”

Sami interrupted: “She’s like a dog with a bone! She won’t give up!” 

“So Berlin’s off the radar?”

“No we’ll try and go in early October but through Heathrow! Now what do you have in your cuttings/ideas file Richard?”

“You read my last PC about relationships ‘in real life’?

“Yes, really enjoyed that ……..”

“I sense I could write postcards about online grooming, online scamming, fantasy worlds and all sorts of things but in my notebook I have this scrap about The Post Office agreeing ‘to revisit scandal victims’ pay-outs’. Not sure what your position is, Sami, but for instance one sub-postmaster accused of stealing £17k was offered £10k!”

“Still in discussions ……!” His face said he was resigned to the way the Post Office is handling it! “Hey! We need to get going as Lisa has an appointment with the Commissioning Editor of The Argus (Note 3) in about 30 minutes, to see whether she can submit local stories here, just as she does up in Derbyshire. See you soon!” ….And with a nod to Josh, they head out the door.

I grab another coffee and go across to Mo. She motions me to sit while she finishes off a WhatsApp message to her mother. Putting her phone down, she asks:

“So Richard. How are we today?”

“Actually really good! Yesterday had a false tooth implanted in my jaw, the culmination of a five month’s process. Tooth out, mouth settles, implant team place the spike in, time for this to settle, time for the implant to be made, and then eventually screwed in place.”

“Let’s see?”

I open my mouth wide, not something I would normally do in a crowded café!

“Top right.” I mumble …..

“Wow! Have no idea which one is not real. Good job!”

“Well it should be! Almost had to take out a mortgage; as it was, it cost an arm and a leg! Changing the subject, did you see that interesting comparative table about the population density of some European countries? The Dutch government has fallen over the issue of the number of immigrants the country was accepting and the article had, inter alia, this little table, showing the number of people per square kilometre.”

“That’s fascinating. And we think we live in a crowded island, yet in the Netherlands they have twice the density!”

“I was reminded of another comparison, that between France and the US State of Colorado. France’s 550k sq kms is twice the size of the state but her population is 67 million (population density 121) and Colorado’s 6 million (population density 21). (Note 4)”  

Mo leans slightly towards me, as if our conversation should be more private!

“Look Richard I’ve been mulling over this as I really can’t make up my mind. You remember in March this year, in the German city of Hamburg, the news that “Seven people, including an unborn baby, have been killed in a shooting at a Jehovah’s Witness hall.” hit the headlines?”

“Yes! Go on”

“Whilst the actual event is tragic enough on its own, I was brought up short by the mathematics! Four men and two women, all German nationals, were killed; so that makes six. In the United Kingdom an unborn baby doesn’t become a separate person with legal rights until they are born and draws breath. Interestingly in the USA, ‘an unborn child is a person within the meaning of the 14^th Amendment to the US Constitution.’, but American CBS News reported only six dead.”

“I see what you mean ……….

Richard 14^th July 2023 (Bastille Day)

Hove

http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 My Times’ subscription covers both paper and digital and I find myself more often than not doing Killer Sudoku on my iPad.

Note 2 EasyJet flies from London Gatwick, some 35 minutes’ drive north of Hove. Other airlines that fly to Berlin such as Lufthansa or BA fly from Heathrow, a 2 hour drive.

Note 3 The Argus has been East and West Sussex’s local paper since 1880 and is based in Brighton & Hove.

Note 4 I used to use another comparison I’d heard; that the US State of Montana and France are geographically the same size but Montana’s population is 1 million and France’s 67. Then I looked at the actually figures and Montana is 377k sq kms, so only 70% the size of France!

Four months ago I wrote about the couples who had bared their souls in front of Orla Gurainik, in the television programme Couples Therapy (PC 326  The Hope – Exploring Relationships March 2023) and mentioned particularly Dale and India as two of their issues had intrigued me. One was about generational trauma and Dale’s belief that it was only African Americans who had this, handed down over the decades and still imagining it could be used as an excuse for failings in how he approached his relationship. The modern psychological belief that history leaves deep fingerprints on the psyche of whole populations is well accepted but it’s not exclusive to his group! The other issue: “….. and there has to be a lot of soul/self-searching in order to understand how real life affects your relationship.”Excuse me? What other sort of relationship could you have with another live human being?

I live and learn. Three weeks ago we had a small supper party; interesting group of individuals – budding criminal lawyer, budding writer, budding actress and dance teacher and Julian, who lecturers here in the city about the practical aspects of film production. With a sprinkling of fertiliser, some rain and some warmth, everyone should flower! I mentioned the Couples Therapy programme and my observations and Julian suddenly says:

“You mean IRL.”

“Sorry! What?”

“In real life”

“That’s a common abbreviation? IRL?” Apparently! (Note 1)

‘Real Life’ featured in Trevor Phillips’ essay about his daughter’s 22 year battle with Anorexia. He quotes Sushila who, in a final video, “….. railed against the celebrities and influencers who co-opt the language of mental health to describe feelings that previous generations would have ascribed to the medical condition of ‘being human’ – sadness, misery, loneliness and uncertainty – while simultaneously stoking the fires of teenage self-loathing with airbrushed social media images, expensive dental work and ruthlessly honed physiques.”  She was 36.

When do you think ‘real life’ starts? Before your 10^th birthday you’re encouraged to use your imagination, for instance through reading, through cartoons or through play with others of a similar age. From the Beatrix Potter series, from The Very Hungry Caterpillar (1969) or from The Gruffalo (1999), children are regaled with tales of talking animals, often with a hidden ‘life lesson’, such as over-eating or junk food as is the case of the caterpillar. At some point they learn that animals don’t talk – probably about the time they learn that Santa Claus isn’t real either, although it doesn’t stop their parents putting out a carrot, glass of sherry and a mince pie at Christmas!

Maybe it’s only when you become a teenager do you begin to experience real life, understanding it happens at home, in the class room, in the playground, on the sports field, the interaction both with another human, with other humans and with the voice inside your head. And gradually we learn what works for us, for others and how to adapt and adopt. And we learn that there are some people we instinctively get on with, are drawn to, are comfortable with – and vica versa!

If you need to be reminded how we are subconsciously attracted to others, read the passage in ‘PC 149 Relationships’ about The Institute of Family Therapy exercise called Family Systems. Although there might be an unintentional bias in the students, the results are fascinating; real life!

Humans have always dreamed, have always acted, have often developed an ‘alter ego’ but the internet has offered unparalleled opportunities to expand the simple concept into the personal development of some fantasy figure. It allows individuals to do all sorts of things, some legal and some extremely dubious, all out there in the ether, but not IRL.

Real life is, for some, awful. Experiencing deprivation, hunger, domestic or parental abuse or loneliness, with access to the internet individuals can fly to some fantasy world, created by themselves or by others, and this world becomes their real life. The danger of course is that it creates unrealistic expectations and possibly  opening them up to exploitation. Sadly examples of sexual exploitation through online grooming are far too frequent. And a good friend’s brother, well-educated and outwardly sensible, but lonely, fell for some Russian doll and parted with £25k before realising it was more likely a Nigerian troll!

Gamers dream and act of ruling the world, winning the fight, beating the odds in some fantasy world, although some get so mentally twisted they try and act out their fantasy IRL. Interestingly the Gaming Industry in the UK, in some perverse way, was worth over £7 billion in 2022.

I have never used a dating website such as Grindr, Tinder or Hinge but believe individuals cheat and distort and obfuscate and exaggerate – and IRL it’s a very different story. Sad huh?

When I was at school sex education co-opted the birds and bees as though using the human body was sort of smutty. But now we have the internet and children “risk having a distorted view of sexual issues because of pornography” says Nick Hewlett head of St Dunstan’s College in south London. “We will end up in some future society with a generation that has had sex lessons through an unregulated cyberspace, with a distorted view of healthy sex and the government needs to do something about it.”

Ah! Yes! ‘The Government needs to do something about it!’ Where is the parental responsibility? Why is it that parents seem to think that schools are the only place where these life lessons get taught?

Then we have Cindy Gallop, creator of the video-sharing website ‘Make Love not Porn’ (Note  2) which apparently posts ‘real life’ sex content (that term real life huh!). She says parents should talk to their children about pornography in their first conversations about sex. No more ‘birds and bees’ then?

Have you heard the joke about the chap watching a ‘pornographic sex’ channel? His wife unexpectedly came in with a friend to show her the aspidistra and he hurriedly changed channels. She noticed him engrossed in some fishing programme. “Why don’t you go back to the sex channel? You know how to fish.” 

We don’t chose to be born, but we live in a moment, in a place, at a time. So we make the most of it, sucking everything there is to suck out of life.

 In real life!

Richard 7^th July 2023

Hove

http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 Julian recommended Chris Stedman’s book “IRL – Finding Realness, Meaning & Belonging”

Note 2 Fortunately spotted a typo – had written ‘Male’ and not ‘Make’!