Travelled the 250 miles to London yesterday to meet with my friend Davina, so we could both attend the funeral of a friend with whom we were at university. His name was Mervyn and he died from MS. Mervyn was extremely well loved as evidenced by the hundreds of people at his funeral service.

You know those people whose relaxed facial expression is all smiles? That was Mervyn. He was academic, musical, multi-talented, wise, forgiving and loving – everyone agreed, a rare combination.

The service was sad and at times funny – we alternated between tears and laughter. There was a soulful saxophone solo at every interval in the service, eulogies, gospel singing, sermons and poetry.

Davina and I saw others from university that we knew. There was Cathy, Yvonne, Cleaver, Derek, Trevor and Ray – just to mention a few. They all looked great and were doing well.

The service was held in Wembley. Mervyn was buried at Kensal Green Cemetary.

Do you remember being a kid and watching Tomorrow’s World on TV – I wanted to work in science so Tomorrow’s World was must-see TV for me. When I was young (5 years old) it was hosted by Raymond Baxter. There were many fascinating products previewed and I have often wondered what happened to them as it seems most never made it to market.

One I remember was a green viscous liquid that looked like washing up liquid. The developer chappie had a load of it in a big jug. The great thing was that when he poured some of it out of the jug into a bowl, then put the jug back down on the table, the green translucent liquid continued to pour itself out of the jug, even though the jug was now upright. It was like magic – the molecules were so tightly bound that once the motion had been set up, they climbed on their own out of the jug.

The only way to stop the liquid flowing was to use scissors to cut it! When he did this, the part still in the jug fell back in. What happened to that? Or was it an April Fool?

Another I remember was an anti-burglar device that filled a room with harmless smoke. The idea being that if a burglar could not see anything, he couldn’t steal it. Well – that is now available – I thought it was great then, but never saw anything of this product until today. Check out the web site if you are looking for an effective intruder deterrent.

Concept Smoke Screen

Natalia and Gill visited late this afternoon. We drank champagne with Cassis on the lawn in front of the water. Sun-setting, warm evening air, mosquitoes. It was all right.

I added a new plugin to the blog – but got slightly miffed by some of the author’s political ideas which also appeared on his website. His plugin is great – he writes code extremely well. He writes politically like someone whose life experiences are largely cerebral (OK unless you are talking about people’s lives). Like his ideas on affirmative action.

He reminds me of that old ‘Letter from America’ geezer whose ramblings would invariably annoy me on Radio 4 before he (thankfully) kicked the bucket a few years back. I remember Alastair Cooke described himself as a gradualist. He didn’t think for example that people should demonstrate to make others aware of their problems, no matter how unjustly society treated them.

He found the Civil Rights Movement somewhat irksome, and believed people should wait for generations to allow things to improve on their own. It is true that in the kitchen it can be appropriate to slow-cook, but sometimes the recipe demands you plunge things into boiling hot oil.

I imagine our Letter from America scribbler would enjoy countless champagne parties on well manicured lawns whilst the rest of us peered through the fence, content that people we ‘d never know but who would share small amounts of our DNA, may sit on similar lawns, and taste the sweet bubbly concoction some time hence.

My point being that had Alastair Cooke himself been excluded, would he have argued so vehemently against the Civil Rights movement? Why did we entertain this partial thinker for so many years.

Alastair Cooke described himself as a gradualist.

Nick Clarke – Cooke’s Biographer on Alastair Cooke and his feelings towards the Civil Rights Movement

He liked Jazz and Afro-American culture, but he regarded the civil rights struggle as an unwise rush which would cause unrest, as black society sought to make up centuries of lost ground all at once. He was a gradualist. He did not accept the tenet that as a matter of natural justice America had to do what it did regarding civil rights as quickly as it did.

When I arrived at the Care Home to pick my mother up, I was surprised to see her surrounded by her new crew. A group of old ladies had been hanging on her every word. Oh God – what had she been saying.

One of the staff took me aside and said there might have been a small problem with one of the residents – an old white Jamaican woman who apparantly belonged to a family that used to own a plantation . When I arrived she was in the corner of the room talking to herself – but apart from that, my mother had been well accepted.

Certainly – she was sitting on the edge of a sofa with one old lady’s head against her shoulder. As soon as I entered my mother thrust an empty glass into my hand and told me to get a re-fill for her new friend. When I returned with the glass of orange juice the adorable old lady took it from me gratefully, and asked if she could touch my hair. Well, that hasn’t happened to me since 1965, but I didn’t think she meant anything by it at all, so congenially, I lowered by head.

They were a nice bunch overall, and although some were showing signs of depression and anxiety, that is generally true in society. And as my mother later pointed out – so what? If one or two are depressed, she didn’t feel that had anything to do with her and how she felt.

The verdict it seems is that my mother is happy to return there for the odd week when I have to go away. But really, the reason she is so strong and young for her age is because she is involved in every day life here with me, and if she went to a Care Home full time, who knows what would happen to her.

It must have been the same for my mother, when she dropped me off for my first day at school over 43 years ago. I have done something reminiscent of that. I just dropped her off for her first Day Care experience at an Old People’s Home. It’s a nice place, but it seems to me the other old people there are just waiting to die.

I spoke to some of them at length this morning and although their surroundings are excellent – the home is beautifully kept, clean, warm, friendly and more, many of them excude a pitiful sadness. I asked around to find out why they are there and was suprised at their answers. They find themselves there either because they have no-one to care for them, or because they feel they cannot place that care burden onto someone, or because they have been de-prioritised by someone. Whatever the reason, not many people are there because it is their first choice. Choice is not something most elderly people enjoy.

I cannot go out to work and continue my career because I choose to stay home and look after my mother, but especially living in this area, I do miss the company of my colleagues. The people I know here have a different outlook which I have tried to share, but have lately realised that it is better to be honest with myself. I can’t value things simply because a handful of people I know value them. You have to do your own thing.

I am therefore looking forward to 3:30pm when I will go and pick my mother up from her first day at school. She is better off here, with me, and I am better off with her.