It’s curious, but when I see words on the page or on the computer screen or written anywhere, to me they look like what they mean.
Take the word ‘look’ that I have just written. The double OO. Two eyes, looking.
The word ‘curious’ has a curious look about it.
SHOCK is another word that looks exactly like what it means.
The ‘O’ in ‘shock’ has a wide-eyed look of surprise, followed by the hard ‘CK’, replicating in sound form an exclamation mark! Even an exclamation mark looks like what it represents. A visual ‘So there! Stick that in your pipe and smoke it!!’
And ‘wide-eyed look of surprise’? Don’t you think those words convey exactly what they mean?
There was a particular word that started me on this weird thought process – ‘Weird’, there’s another! Is it me, or does the word ‘weird’ look like what it means?
This is what happens when you’re not a great sleeper. You’re lying in bed, the mind wanders and these are the random thoughts that go through your brain in the nocturnal hours.
What about ‘bed’?
Bed, for me, looks like a BeD. There are the bedposts at either end and the ‘e’ between is the mattress. Maybe I should ask the doctor for something to help me sleep?
The specific word that started me on this odd – sorry, I’ve got to say it, doesn’t ‘odd’ look odd? Anyway, the specific word that started this train of thought at God knows what time o’clock in the morning is: ‘gobsmacked’.
GOBSMACKED: Astonished, astounded, thunderstruck, staggered, flabbergasted.
All excellent visual words but not in the same league as…
GOBSMACKED!
The ‘O’ in ‘gOb’, like a wide mouth reacting to something shocking that has just been uttered. You can almost see a pair of hands clutching each cheek in horror. Followed by the onomatopoeic ‘smacked’ that knocks you off your guard.
‘Gobsmacked’ describes perfectly my reaction to various events of the past week that are going though my mind as I lie wide awake, listening with envy to the even breathing emanating from the peacefully sleeping body lying next to me.
I thought dogs slept with one ear cocked and one eye open. Not the hound of Laytonia. Woody is occupying the warm spot vacated by Moya. Unable to sleep because of her on-going shoulder pain, she has gone walkabout.
Moya should by now be recuperating from a long-awaited operation but due to Covid that has been put on ice. Along with her shoulder. She returns with a pack of frozen peas neatly perched in the crook of her neck to alleviate the nightly pain.
Moya: Come on, Woody, move!
Woody, sleeping the sleep of one without either intense shoulder pain or intrusive gobsmacking thoughts, refuses to budge and Moya heads for one of the kids’ rooms.
Never the spare rooms, always the kids’ rooms even though none of them have lived here for nearly 20 years.
‘I’ll go’, says George gallantly.
Note to self as I wander off: must get some frozen peas from LIDL. Waitrose Petits Pois are a bit pricey for anaesthetising shoulders.
Postscript to self: you’re a heartless, merciless bastard!
I slip into another bed and the freezing cold sheets sharpen the gobsmacking thoughts that have been keeping me awake…
There was a wedding held in North London last week attended by 150 guests. First reports on the lunchtime news said 400 guests.
Whether it was 400 or 150, what were the bride & groom thinking of? What were the parents on both sides thinking of? What were the caterers thinking of? What were the 150 guests, getting dressed up in their glad rags, thinking of? It beggars belief.
I soften my gobsmackedness with the thought that perhaps the two families had sent out 400 wedding invitations and 250 of those invited had, either out of civic respect for lockdown rules or the fear of a catching Coronavirus, graciously declined the “kind invitation”.
Forget the flouting of lockdown rules for a moment. Speaking as one who doesn’t step out of the door without a mask, let alone go into a shop or a supermarket, didn’t any of those 150 who did attend, worry about catching Covid 19? Or, perish the thought, worry about spreading the virus?
Of course not. These clowns are so selfish and arrogant, it wouldn’t occur to them.
* * * * * * * * *
I’ve also been thinking about a friend of mine during these wakeful hours.
He’s not in my small circle of very close friends but he’s far more than an acquaintance. We’ve known each other for years. We’ve seen each other’s kids grow up and much of our conversation revolves around our respective growing families.
My friend is good company. I like him. He makes me laugh. He’s kind, he’s generous. He goes out of his way to be helpful. I enjoy chatting to him. We are like-minded.
Or so I thought.
During the first lockdown we had a long-distanced chat about the situation. I voiced my opinion that Boris & pals had been slow; lockdown should have been actioned weeks earlier. I added that – in my opinion – our borders should be closed.
I was more than a little taken aback by both his reply and the ferocity with which he expressed it.
‘It’s all bollocks. Totally unnecessary. This Coronavirus is no more serious than the usual seasonal ailments. There are no more people dying than normal at this time of year. It’s all overblown…’
He appeared to have a lot of stats at his fingertips and I’m not the best at arguing on my feet. I lamely suggested that surely Boris needed this lockdown like a hole in the head so why would he go to the lengths of imposing one?
My friend had all the answers and I slowly retreated…
We’re into November and the 2nd lockdown. During one of our ‘how’s the family’ passing chats, I casually but confidently ask if his views on the pandemic/lockdown have now altered.
‘It’s all bollocks. Totally unnecessary. This Coronavirus is no more serious than the normal seasonal ailments. There are no more people dying than normal at this time of year. It’s all overblown…’
Or words to that effect. I retreated again, but rather more quickly this time.
It is the 20th of January. President Trump is heading for Mar-a-Lago and I’m taking Woody for a little constitutional before settling down to watch the inauguration of Joe Biden.
I’m in buoyant mood as I anticipate some sanity and statesmanship coming our way from across the pond.
‘How’s it going, George?’
‘Terrific,’ I call back to my friend. ‘We’re seeing the back of that lunatic Trump, how could it not be terrific?’
My friend’s eyes darken. As if, out of the blue, a black cloud suddenly hovers overhead. I hear some muttering about Biden followed by something about Trump, only far more complimentary.
Over 74 million Americans voted for Trump. Of course he is going to have supporters over here.
Our friendship will continue. He is still the same kind, generous guy. He will continue to make me laugh. I hope.
But like-minded, we ain’t and I’m gobsmacked!
* * * * * * *
I sigh. What time is it? Is that all? I sigh again…
I lie in the dark and think about another lockdown incident…
It involves a couple that is close to us. Very close to us. We love them. We respect them. They are family members, actually, but in the interests of confidentiality, I’ll leave it vague.
This time I was the ‘gobsmacker’ and bearing in mind that these two people are highly intelligent, informed and well read, the gobsmacking incident was quite amusing.
Having been on what Moya & I call the ‘goodies’ run, namely leaving a bag of food on our younger daughter’s doorstep together with a few treats for the grandchildren, we decide we’ll drive past where our relatives live for a socially distanced hello.
We call them and by the time we arrive, they are standing on the doorstep. We stand at the gate and whilst we generally speak on the ‘phone every day, it was lovely to see them.
We chat about this, that and the other. Namely, their health, our health and ‘the other’ being the grandchildren.
Our relatives are very excited about the impending arrival of their latest grandchild. A little puppy.
Hubby: It’s a Christmas present for the grandchildren.
He pings over a photo on WhatsApp. Moya & George ‘ooh & ahh’.
Moya: Gorgeous. I bet the kids are excited.
Hubby: We’re excited. We’re picking her next week!
Moya: Lovely. Where from?
Hubby: A kennels in Norfolk. We’re driving down to get her.
A beat. George & Moya exchange a look.
George: But you can’t drive to Norfolk. It’s a 200 mile round trip!
Hubby: Oh, don’t worry about us. We’ll take our time. It’ll be a nice day out.
George: No! You can’t drive to Norfolk. You’ll be flouting lockdown rules!
Hubby pales.
Hubby: (gobsmacked) My God! I’d never thought of that…
And that is when the ‘gobsmacker’ reverted to the ‘gobsmacked’.
If intelligent, well-informed citizens who have followed lockdown to the letter ‘don’t get it’ – what hope is there for the rest of us…?
George, I love the visuals images you’ve found in simple words. Not quite the same, but I do remember discovering while at school, that 1961 worked just as well when read up side down.
Glad to have you back as a regular Jack!! No. 1961 upside down is not the same as as wot I was writing about, though that is rather like a visual palindrome. There were some numbers like that using a calculator. If turned upside down, they made a word – sometimes a bu=it rude!!
Whatever you are on George, please send me some.
David x
Hi George. Another nicely written piece. Thank you.
I drive for a living – an ‘essential’ job. Today, I have delivered a car to a Police HQ in Kent and collected a van from a Housing Association in Bedford. Essential work.
On my travels, I only stop at Motorway Services, nowhere else, and only to answer the call of nature. I routinely stop at the same places – typically, Beaconsfield, South Mimms, Cobham and Clackett Lane Services. I see some van drivers, couriers and tradesmen there, for sure. They eat outside in the car park, alongside or inside their vehicles. They may wander across the grass for a fag, too. All fair and dandy. However, I also see a disproportionate number of families eating their lunches in the seating areas – what appear to be parents and grandparents with a gaggle of little ones. Not just here and there, but every bloody where. Why are they there? This angers me. I would love to sit down and eat a hot meal at a cafe or restaurant but, to be as safe as possible, I choose to take a packed lunch and eat either outside or in my vehicle. Why, then, are these families allowed to do as they please and flout rules in this way. I’ll tell you why…because they can. There’s no one to stop them or direct them. I’m sure a few are ignorant of the rules. I’m sure a number simply copy the activities of those few. But I am also absolutely certain that the majority just don’t care. And seem proud of it.
Alongside what I have just written, traffic levels are now very high on our main roads and motorways. Who IS staying at home? Not many. Possibly those who are “working from home” aren’t always doing this and are taking advantage of their time away from their workplace to also do as they please. The number of parked cars at beauty spots near to me in Worcestershire is huge.
This country used to be great, I was always told. Not so, any more. Spitefulness, selfishness and a total disregard for others well being is perpetrated by so many I am really sad to observe. My colleagues agree with me.
So, on behalf of all lorry drivers, van drivers, service personnel and essential workers a kick in the teeth is felt by this writer and I only wish these idiots could understand their actions are both foolhardy and illegal. Where are the Police to question, cajole, encourage and, where necessary, take action? Today, they were sat at McDonalds in a group of 5, all tucking in to their burgers and chips and they are coming to a Service Area near you soon…to do absolutely nothing!
Blimey Brad – bit of a rant!! Good for you. This is a weird (that word does look ‘weird’ doesn’t it) this is a weird lockdown. Never seen the streets so busy!!
On the subject of words looking like their meaning, I agree.
“Whoosh”, is my favourite. Or “Boo hoo”.
You’ve got me thinking, George.
Well gobsmacked is an understatement when it comes to what happened today. I had been prevaricating for weeks, no, months. I really must phone George and Moya I had said to myself. How long ago was it that George had invited me to an exciting event at the Film Museum in Elephant and Castle celebrating his career as actor, writer, and general all round Good Egg. Last October I think or thereabouts.
The event had to be postponed.
Then there was a celebration for darling Moya’s birthday which once again couldn’t happen. and so it went on. And on.
I have three mantras (or is it mantrae?) which help me through these weird times.
One is a song from “Chicago” called “I am my own best friend”. Common sense tells me I should and should not to to preserve my health and peace of mind. I don’t need Boris telling me what to do, thank you very much..
The second is from Alcoholics Anonymous – “One Day at a Time”. I never plan ahead because the rules change daily.
And the third is something that a lovely director called Bill Hays said to me when I was stage managing for him at the Fortune Theatre. “You’re going to be good at your job one day but you must always say these three words to yourself “Do it Now”!
So that’s what I said to myself this morning and precisely at that moment George decided to call me and we spent most wonderful half an hour or so chatting away. It truly made my day.
And for both of us to decide to phone each other simultaneously! Was I gobsmacked!!!
Ralphie – wasn’t that amazing telepathy??
For those that don’t know, I met Ralph on my first day at RADA in 1960. And here we are, friends today. I was in awe of his beautiful piano playing.
Ralph is one of the truly happiest people I know, being in his company lifts my spirits!!
Love you, Ralphie!!
You seem to be “suffering” from a sort of synesthesia, “a perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway” (wikipedia). Something not so very uncommon. Wassily Kandinsky also had it, only in his case he perceived a combiantion of certain forms and colours as a specific sound. So in a way his paintings could be translated into sound – at least in his mind.
As for your friend I’m very sorry that things are going the way they are, but then at least you still seem to share a sense for humour. I sometimes wonder where this all started, this divisive idea of team x versus team y. Maybe when George W. declared, that whoever is not unequivocally on his side, is against him, Team George versus Team Osama. The same goes for fake news, to me the root would funnily enough be in reality TV, or better scripted reality. The combination of these terms is paradox and it slowly transformed reality. I so very much prefer fiction and real actors like yourself, who know what they are doing, to this seemingly authentic but in fact only poorly acted formats. Oddly enough there is more reality and even truth in fiction, even if it is just done for entertainment. I do not feel any kind of Schadenfreude concerning the people who fell for this. So what’s the remedy? I would suggest going outside, meeting and connecting to people in your vicinty, your community, but this is not feasible these days. One thing remains though reading and listening to the testimony of people who are on the frontline, like nurses and doctors, online or via media. I especially remember a young Belgian nurse crying and begging people to adhere to the rules on the radio in summer. And maybe somebody could suggest a good fact checking site, I only know an Austrian one, mimikama.at, I guess there have to be some English ones.
Danni – you are so erudite. Yep, looks like I’ve got a word form of synesthesia. I like it!!