Andrew Kay: Thanks for the memories

Am I losing my mind? I don’t think so, well not in any major way. I’m terrible with names but not with faces, but that’s no new thing, I’ve always been bad with names. It’s probably due to inefficient filing in the spider’s web that is my memory. I can remember the lyrics to crass pop songs that I never ever liked, but can’t put a name to a face.

Of course some of that could be put down to the fact that, through this organ, I know so many people. I love that, I love the kind people that say hello on the bus, passengers and drivers alike. I like the man who sells The Big Issue and calls me Michael Winner, which is even more poignant since his death. I don’t even care if being well known is for being popular or for being notorious, who cares?

It does drive some people mad, especially when the cheery greetings slow down our progress through town, especially now that I have abandoned driving in favour of the lovely buses.

“Mum passed 81 and is showing no signs of mental decrepitude, sharp as ever, she will take anyone to task if they dare doubt her recollections”

It drives Mum completely mad, much as she loves it in one way, she hates it taking up so much time. Mum passed 81 a few weeks back and is showing no signs of mental decrepitude, her memory is as sharp as ever and she will readily take anyone to task if they dare doubt her recollections.

Of course since Dad passed away, almost a year ago now, the worry has been how she will cope living alone after 63 years of marriage? She’s not so steady as she was but she is doubly stubborn. That said, she has given in to using a walking stick, when she remembers to, although I do fear that one slight might induce its conversion to an offensive weapon.

She recently purchased an iPad. She rather fell in love with mine when I was home and I discovered a broadband router in the spare room which she confessed she had no idea about. It turns out that she has had broadband for several years but with no apparent need for it until now.

We play Scrabble online every day, and if I dare to return a move she is fast to cyber nudge me, just as she would physically if we were in the same room and I was taking too long to play.

She has also signed up to Facebook and already has accrued a good list of friends. I use Facebook less and less, but I’m happy to see that she finds it a useful way to keep in touch.

She has also discovered Facetime. Now this is also a good thing – except that she tends to just dial, irrespective of where I am or what I might be doing – and no, she’s not done it in an embarrassing moment, merely at inconvenient times, like when I am getting ready for work or on the bus. Still, it’s a great way to see her each day and know that she is doing well. There’s certainly no worry that she is losing her marbles.

Unlike Sir Terry Pratchett whose medical problem is a worry to his fans globally. The prolific writer was this year’s City Reads choice. The live audience event was superbly managed and I was lucky enough to be asked along to the post talk party at Pub du Vin. There I had the chance to say hello. I wander over and said hi. He looked deep into my eyes and said nothing for a long moment, than quietly he spoke. “We’ve met before.” “Yes,”

I replied. Another pause. “It was Victor Gollancz, yes?” And it was. I was art director and designed several of his novels there. He may well be suffering from a degenerative condition, but the man is far from losing his marbles. We chatted a while and it’s all there, just a little deeper down than before but as beautiful as ever.
Read Andrew Kay’s full review of Terry Pratchett & Friends on page 18.

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