Sorry this took so long. No excuse beyond the usual, jet lag and idleness.

A Long-Anticipated Oneonta Visit

The Final Chapter started with the arrival of Gwen Schuster, a longtime friend I know through SUNY Oneonta. Gwen and I first formally met when we served together on the Alumni Board of our alma mater a few decades ago. I had known her before as “that red haired lady who always won some golf contest at the alumni weekend golf tournament”. She knew me as one of the Class of ’75 alums who came back every year and were known for our class spirit. Gwen’s late husband Rudy and I had become friends too. He had an interest in all things nuclear and he and I would have great chats at various alumni dinners over the years. This was Gwen’s first solo trip since Rudy’s passing and I was thrilled to be able to welcome her to London on the morning of her arrival. Gwen continues to represent the class of 1963 with charm and panache.

Liseta Carmi Photography at the Esoterick Collection

I always try to visit the Esoterick Collection, one of London’s smaller modern art venues during my annual sojourn. About two weeks back, I realized I had not yet been there. I went online and saw that it had a rather provocative exhibition on and decided I would choose a morning and go up there to see “Liseta Carmi Identities. Ms Carmi died at 98 in 2022. The exhibit focused on her photos of Genoa Italy’s population of people who today would be called transgendered, transsexual or cross-dressers. In those days, such distinctions were not made. The other part of the exhibit focused on the social issues of the working people of Italy and how they did their work. The picture above is one of the ones on display as are the ones below. The community of people welcomed Ms Carmi and her photos somehow showed such openness and kindness to them. Similarly, her photos on the subject of working people are quite remarkable. The final picture is from a video that was shown of the late artist at the end of her life, unadorned and quite satisfied to discuss her many accomplishments.

No More Pennies for the Guy

The coming of Autumn used to be the time of bonfires and children making a Guy Fawkes to be paraded around the streets on Bonfire Night (November 5th) with requests for “a penny for the Guy.” Now, however, it’s all about Halloween. Here are two pictures of the decorations at the Tube Station near the Esoterick Gallery and in Brunswick Centre, the local shopping precinct near the flat I rented.

Backstairs Billy

I had booked tickets for this production back in the late Spring knowing very little about it. I knew it was about Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, and a servant of whom she was very fond. I, of course, assumed it would be like Queen Victoria and Mr. Brown, and all be very tasteful and proper. Boy, was I wrong! Well, not completely. Billy (William Talon), starting at age 15, rose through the ranks at Clarence House, the Queen Mother’s home, after she was widowed at 55, to become “Page of the Backstairs,” Her Majesty’s most trusted aide. He keeps the house looking as if it is still in Edwardian times and does his best to keep the Queen Mother who went from being the best known and loved woman in the UK and Empress of India, to being a widow whose family didn’t have much time for her, happy and amused. The Queen Mother made it quite clear early on that she had no problem with Billy’s sexuality or that there would be “two queens” in Clarence House. In fact, she is portrayed very sympathetically as a rather jolly lady who enjoyed a gin and a dance with Billy. He was allowed to “take liberties” and even do impressions of Princess Margaret and the then Prince Charles. He did make one serious blunder of getting caught by one of the “bean counters” from Buckingham Palace when he brought a ‘rent boy’ to Clarence House. But the Queen Mother meted out her own punishment and then forgave him. He was with her until she died at 102.

Rainy Days

The last nine days featured a good amount of rain. In order to make sure I made my step count on one of those days, I visited the British Museum, (in the neighborhood) and walked through its upper floors. Along the way, I came across some interesting mosaics and ceramics that I thought I might share.

King Lear

The above picture might say all that needs to be said. Branaugh was bigger than life, as one reviewer put it, overenunciating every word. But he was good, very good. In my own cynical way, I had to notice that the Lear daughters, a multi-cultural trio of outstanding actors were obviously from different mothers. The story, I think most of us know. A ridiculously bloody tale, with the typical Shakespearean bodies all over the stage ending. But the staging was good. Minimalist in set decoration and an almost pre-historic feel to the costuming.

It was a wonderful last performance to see, and I had hopes for the trifecta of Backstairs Billy on Friday, Lear on Saturday (matinee) and my final visit to Wigmore Hall for one last Classical Blast on Sunday.

The Last Concert at Wigmore that Wasn’t (or The Great Phone Heist)

At the risk of repeating myself to many of you, at this late date, a lovely Sunday morning dawned, and I got an early start for my walk to Wigmore Hall from my flat. I like to arrive early and have time for a coffee and croissent at the restaurant in the lower level of Wigmore Hall. I was enjoying the crisp morning air, but Google Maps kept cutting out on my earbuds and so I would take my phone out of my trouser pocket to make sure it was working, and that the problem wasn’t my earbuds. I took the phone out, noticed that I was .7 miles from Wigmore Hall and suddenly a bicyclist came from behind me, in between me and the plate glass window of a large building and grabbed my phone. He was gone in seconds. The man was dressed head to toe in black with a black ski mask and black gloves. I was annoyed more than surprised, as phone theft is a major problem in London. Usually, though, the streets I walk on are so busy a maneuver like his would not have been possible.

I did complete my walk to Wigmore Hall, but rather than go to the concert, I went looking for the Mobile phone stores on nearby Oxford Street, a major shopping district, but they wouldn’t open until Midday on a Sunday. Luckily, I had a backup pay-as-you-go UK phone that allowed me to let some local friends know. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get through to T-Mobile, but good old Google saved my bacon, and I was able to “brick” my phone through them. My biggest worry was not being able to contact the fellow that drives me to and from Heathrow Airport. I had a feeling, though, that he would show up, based on our previous agreement and he did! He and I now have all forms of communication instead of just WhatsApp.

The Metropolitan Police could not have been nicer or more helpful or honest. They said there was little chance of getting the phone back, but expressed lots of concern about me and if I needed any kind of follow up care of any kind. As I’ve said many times, I’m just glad it happened to me and not a first-time visitor who might be put off from returning to the great city.

After a nice flight home on Virgin Atlantic, my local Naples. FL. T-Mobile store was great. They helped me with the form to report my stolen phone to the insurance company and order my replacement which I received two days later. The staff at the store got me up and running and most of my data, beyond phone contacts and messages was backed up and saved.

So, all things considered, I had another great sojourn in the UK (and Normandy). I still love London and my heart is with Fulham FC. Stay tuned for more adventures.

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