July | 2014 | Guy Portman's Blog

The Commonwealth Games

Jul 25 2014

Wednesday Evening – I am idly flicking through the television channels when I stumble across the Commonwealth Games Opening Ceremony. If there is a less enthralling sporting event on this planet than the Commonwealth Games, I am yet to hear of it.

However, I found the opening ceremony to be quite entertaining. The display included many things considered synonymous with Scotland, and/or the great city of Glasgow. These included inflatable Loch Ness Monsters, giant Tunnocks Tea Cakes, a huge haggis, golf clubs, Scottish terriers leading out the forty-one participating national teams, and even an Irn-Bru Forth Bridge. Anyone hoping to catch a glimpse of a gargantuan fried Mars Bar, people drinking alcohol out of brown paper bags, or an enormous syringe were no doubt left disappointed. The mascot for the 20th edition of the Games is Clyde (see below – he is named after a thistle that grows on the bank of the Clyde river).

Rod Stewart sang, as did that woman from X-Factor I was hoping I’d seen the last of. We got to see the head of The Commonwealth, the Queen, and a glimpse of the star attraction, Usain Bolt, one of the few global athletic stars that isn’t either ineligible for the Games, or hasn’t succeeded in getting a sick note from their doctor in time.

Controversy was provided in the form of Dr Who actor John Barrowman kissing a man, before dragging him to the altar for a mock wedding. This new version of the Glasgow kiss was presumably not appreciated in the forty-two of the fifty-three Commonwealth countries where homosexuality is illegal. No doubt John Barrowman, who recently wed his male partner, isn’t planning to honeymoon in Nigeria or Uganda, where an anti-homosexuality act was passed earlier this year. Whether Barrowman’s actions are viewed as a defiant stance against homophobia, or symbolic of a prurient nation, is a matter of individual opinion. Quite what the Queen made of it all we can only guess.

That’s it for today. I’ve got to rush off or I’m going to miss The Solomon Islands efforts in the Lawn Bowl.

Alcoholic Authors V

Jul 18 2014

No doubt like countless others across the land I have been nursing a World Cup hangover this week. Struggling for inspiration for a blog post I have decided to the take the opportunity to return to my Alcoholic Authors series. Here is Part V:

F. Scott Fitzgerald

(September 24th 1896 – December 21st 1940)

Notable works: This Side of Paradise, The Great Gatsby, Tender Is the Night.

F. Scott Fitzgerald was an American author of novels and short stories, who is widely accepted as being one of the greatest writers of the 20th Century. An inspiration for a future generation of writers, F. Scott Fitzgerald is best remembered for his seminal work, The Great Gatsby. Adapted for the silver screen on five occasions, The Great Gatsby has sold millions of copies and is required reading in many schools and colleges.

Alcohol and alcoholics hold a prominent place in much of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s writing, which is perhaps not surprising considering the author was an alcoholic from college days to his death. A notorious exhibitionist who was prone to theatrical displays when under the influence, the iconic author was unwilling to quit his habit and even argued that drinking aided his writing efforts

At the age of forty-four F. Scott Fitzgerald died from an alcohol related heart attack.

John Cheever

(May 27th 1912 – June 18th 1982)

Notable works: The Enormous Radio, Goodbye, My Brother, The Swimmer.

Sometimes referred to as ‘the Chekhov of the suburbs’, John Cheever is recognized as one of the most important short story writers of the 20th Century. He also wrote four novels. A compilation of his short stories, The Stories of John Cleever, won the 1979 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.In 1982 six weeks prior to his death Cheever was awarded the National Medal for Literature by the Academy of Arts and Letters.

At the height of his literary career Cheever began a twenty-year struggle with alcoholism. The writer’s outward appearance was at odds with his inner condition, and his drinking was presumably a means to cope with his sexual guilt (he was a closet bisexual) and a deep sense of self-loathing. The author did not admit to having a problem with alcohol until he was sent to a rehabilitation center in 1972, the same year that he suffered a massive heart attack. Cheever successfully quit drinking and lived to the relatively old age of seventy.

Click here to read Alcoholic Authors IV

Fajitas, Fascists and The Future

Jul 11 2014

London – Thursday – I get on the bus and take £2.40 out of my pocket for the fare. The driver informs me London buses are now cash free.

‘So you’re a comedian now,’ reply I, attempting to hand over the money as I do so.

He shakes his head glumly and says, ‘No cash’.

A number of the other passengers nod in agreement. I ask, ‘Why?’

The driver tells me 99% of passengers find it more convenient to pay with Oyster cards (travel cards). My Oyster card is at home.

‘And the other 1%?’ I enquire.

My question is met with shrugging, gesturing, perplexity. I find myself back on the pavement, where I proceed to complain vehemently to any people waiting for a bus who care to listen. A teenaged girl says I can use her spare Oyster card for a fee, which is slightly in excess of what the journey actually costs, but needs must.

On the upper deck of the bus I find myself in a reflective mood, contemplating what it will be like living in a cash-free Britain. It is only a matter of time. In my mind’s eye I see myself aged about a hundred remembering the nostalgic days of my relative youth when money was still used. No doubt I will be met with shrugging perplexity when I tell youngsters about those distant memories.

So deep in thought was I that I missed my stop and was forced to hurry back on foot so as not to be late to meet a friend. We went to a Mexican restaurant, where I ordered chicken fajitas, and my dining companion a seafood enchilada, or was it a burrito, or perhaps a fajita – I forget. There was a group of very friendly Japanese lawyers on an adjoining table, who communicated with us in broken English. There was also a table containing amiable, smiling Spanish tourists, who were also keen to converse. I couldn’t remember London ever seeming so friendly and welcoming. Then I looked up and saw this group (see below). Note the individual with his back to the camera wearing a West Coast Choppers biker t-shirt bearing Nazi insignia (Eagle and Iron Cross).

I was so astounded that I took a photograph of the group, much to the chagrin of the baseball cap wearing one (facing camera). Several of them stormed over to our table and made various threats to our wellbeing, instantaneously destroying the restaurant’s friendly ambience. It was evident from the not particularly threatening nature of their threats that they weren’t genuine West Coast Choppers, but rather English wannabe bikers, which was most fortunate, as otherwise I suspect I would have lived to regret my actions.

Lake Como

Jul 04 2014

Last week I went on holiday to Lake Como in Italy.

After being led on a wild goose chase by my rental car’s GPS system I finally arrived at my destination.

I found the lake to be a tranquil and serene place.

Having checked into my hotel I headed out into town, where I found a bar at the top of a long flight of steps. This is a picture of your esteemed author posing with umbrella half way up the steps.

The bar’s cavernous interior boasted a dizzying selection of vino. There were a lot of customers in the bar and I had difficultly getting the bar staffs attention. I concluded that I needed to utilise some hand gestures, as I know Italians love those, though they didn’t seem to appreciate the ones I used.

Finally I was successful in obtaining a selection of apéritifs.

The below picture was taken on the way out of the bar not in a subterranean police cell.

Ferries are the preferred mode of transport for visiting the lake’s numerous villages and towns.

My first port of call was the picturesque town of Varenna, where you’ll always find a tourist getting in the way of your photo.

Below is Varenna church. At least I am pretty sure it is Varenna church. I saw so many churches that there is small chance that I might be wrong.

Midmorning I stopped for a Peroni, followed shortly thereafter by a chocolate and pistachio gelato.

This is one of the many beautiful houses that surround the lake.

I always seek out the less salubrious side of everywhere I go. In the suburbs of Como I came across this derelict hotel with a view of the main road.

Another day another meat and cheese antipasto.

I would highly recommend Lake Como to anyone who does not suffer from aquaphobia.

Archive - July 2014

The Commonwealth Games

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Alcoholic Authors V

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Fajitas, Fascists and The Future

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Lake Como

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Archive - July 2014

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