Valley of the Trolley Dollies

 

“Red in the head; good in the bed.”

-apparently

I’m having soup for lunch today.

I purchased it from the Staff Restaurant at Feng Shui Bank (which, in my father’s day, would have been called a Canteen, but which is now - as with most things in modern life - branded, and titled something poncey like “The Place.”)

It’s Thai Beef an Noodle soup, and it’s really quite good. So good, in fact, that it makes me think I don’t have soup often enough. In fact, when did I last have soup for lunch? And then, as I slurp up a long strand of thick spaghetti-like noodle, I remember…

I remember the last time I had a waterproof carton of soup. It was a spaghetti and Meatball soup, and I was still slurping the spaghetti off of the spoon as I stood in front of the TV in my old bank - CBM, if you recall - slurping, and frowning and wondering how on earth what I was watching on TV could possibly be real, as the second plane crashed into the second tower, and the world altered forever.

I think, when the first bodies started falling, when, onscreen, the ash started to descend, I put the soup down.

And here I am, falling back into the past with a noodley soup, an increased awareness of all the things lost and gone forever, and a heart that, lately, has become a little too -overfond of reminiscing.

Jesus! Just heard Mr Depp’s vocals on the upcoming Tim Burton movie of Sondheim’s “Sweeney Todd.” Looks like, having finished with his impersonation of Keith Richards, Johnny’s decided to move on to other famed Brit Rockers. I’m not saying, but Mrs Bowie must be spitting feathers…

But fear not: Matt of The Barn assures me that the film works very well. I’m looking forward no end, even with the knowledge that I’ll doubtless be waiting for Sweeney to burst into a chorus of Cracked Actor,’ throughout the whole thing.