What's happening to me?

Remember the 1969 song by Harry Nilsson Everybody's Talkin' At Me? It goes like this:

Everybody's talking at me
I don't hear a word they're saying
Only the echoes of my mind

I'll play the song for you later at the end of this post.

It seems everyone these days is giving advice, whether it is asked for, warranted or, (in my case), welcomed.

We should all examine our lives, I'm told. Re-assess what we're doing. Re-prioritise our priorities. Prepare for a new beginning. Do things differently. Take time to sit down calmly and consider what we've been doing wrong thus far. Do it differently. Better. Or not at all.

To be honest, I don't have much time for all that. I haven't been doing anything wrong all my life. Besides, I am too lazy for all this thinking, examining, re-prioritising and all that. My favourite pass-time and hobby is to sit down. Or lie down. I can do it all day.

In front of the TV, on the couch, on the floor, in the garden, in bed or even lying in a warm bath. There is nothing better than lying in a warm bath watching and contemplating ...

Have you ever wondered why the soap bubbles congregate around one particular place on your body? I wonder why? But I digress ...

There's advice everywhere these daysd about what we've been doing wrong and how we should do it better and differently.

For the past few months I have been told, time and again, what I have done wrong in all these years of marriage. I have apologised many times for things I did, or did not do, which I can hardly remember doing them or not. Why do women have such long memories? I can't even remember what I had for breakfast.

It seems it was my fault on that occasion, long ago, when I lost the car keys and we were late for her mother's birthday party. In all honesty, the keys were not lost at all. They were in my pocket the whole time. Is it worth admitting it now? Better apologise I suppose!

Everywhere I turn there is advice that we should minimise. Use less of everything. I think they call it minimalism. If that is the case, then why have they used so many letters to say the word minimalism? Couldn't they have thought of a shorter word?

There are even books on minimalism. Teaching you how to do with less. In the true spirit of the philosophy they are teaching, I have decided not to buy any of these books. Voila ... doing with less!

I also no longer use ice cubes in my whisky. I drink it neat ... using less!

I remember years ago we tried this using less fashion trend. We were well before our time. Remember the mini-skirt? And the hot pants? Very tiny skirts and shorts using less material. And women doing away with their bras and wearing flowers in their hair instead?

Also, years later, when I got married I tried to revive the trend and throw away all the useless presents her mother gave us. She wouldn't let me. I mean ... ... ... who needs a spoon rest? What is a spoon rest anyway? Who invented this useless crap piece of equipment which now has to be washed as well as the spoon? What is wrong with wiping the spoon on the back of your trousers and putting it on the table whilst cooking?

At the time, we moved from our rented home in London to a town up North. In order to minimise, or down-size, we bought an apartment in an apartment complex. I decided to put a couple of skylights in the ceiling of our apartments. The woman living above us got very irate because they looked straight into her bedroom and bathroom.

Minimalism did not work for us anyway; because there was no room in that apartment for a spoon rest.

The doctor rang me the other day. He said he hadn't seen me for a while. I told him I was not felling well. When I get better I'll go and see him.

The last time I was there he said I was a little weak. He gave me a bottle of vitamin pills. When I got home I was so weak I could not open the bottle. I had to drive back to his Insulting Room and ask him to open the bottle for me.

I was told that if I drink a pint of Guinness a day it will do me good. I rang the pub and asked them to deliver a barrel in my kitchen. Every day for the last two weeks I've been having a pint a day. It really works. When they brought in the barrel it was so heavy two men had to carry it. Now I can carry it round the kitchen by myself.

The priest rang me too. He said he hadn't seen me in church for a while. I told him that I had stopped sinning. Minimalism!

I told him would it not be better if people e-mailed him their sins for absolution? He said he already knew peoples' sins by reading Facebook.

I never understood Facebook. Too complicated. I once did not like something I said there and un-friended myself. I discovered I'd locked myself out of my own account! Myself did not like me!!!

I told the priest how sad it was that the whole world is in such a state these days. To cheer me up he said it could be worse. We could all be in a deep hole in the ground filled with water. He means well.

By the way ... as an aside ... let me warn you ... do not let supermarket staff take your temperature by scanning your head. Especially if they do it with the payment check-out machine. It erases your memory. I went to the supermarket for some salad, fruits and vegetables and bought wine and chocolates instead.

Anyway ... the priest said to me on the phone that we should pray as Jesus taught us. I did not know He had a tortoise; did you?

Here's the song I promised you: