Wednesday, September 26, 2012

We are gathered here today

Lemesos, Limassol, Cyprus


Seoul, Seoul-t'ukpyolsi, Korea, Republic of
Singapore, Singapore
Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Sarajevo, Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Bosnia and Herzegovina
Rocafort, Comunidad Valenciana, Spain
Clayton, Victoria, Australia
Auckland, New Zealand
Georgetown, Demerara-Mahaica, Guyana        
Málaga, Andalucia, Spain
Puchong, Selangor, Malaysia
Nairobi, Kenya
Dublin, Ireland
Clare, Ireland
Los Angeles
Thaon-les-vosges, Lorraine, France
Las Palmas
Fort Walton Beach, Florida, United States           
San Leandro, California, United States
New York
Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
Malesherbes, Centre, France
Glenview, Illinois, United States
Florence, Toscana, Italy
Amplepuis, Rhone-Alpes, France
Denver, Colorado, United States
Espoo, Southern Finland, Finland

No, this list does not represent the intended destinations on my future round-the-planet-gallivants (although should someone like to chip in with the expenses of such a journey, I wouldn't mind at all. No. In fact, to show my gratitude, I would solemnly pledge to write a blog post every now and then, to let my distinguished sponsor(s) know how I was finding the world). Instead, it shows the more exotic locations* wherefrom people have visited my blog since last Monday – although they haven't really visited my blog as such; they've been here due to a particular post I wrote in 2007. To put an even finer point to it, they've been here due to the person remembered and featured in that post. 

I am, of course, talking about Horace. Those few who have walked with this blog for a looong time may remember him. An inconsequential encounter some twenty-four years ago, for me; an anecdotal something, a Memory of the Local-Colour Kind. I wrote about him quite by chance, my memory of him triggered by something someone else said. He was supposedly killed in 2009; I wrote about that, and him, again

And now, may tGoAA** bless him, he truly is dead. I knew something was afoot when my viewer count suddenly skyrocketed (okay: back off. I have my own – and very good – reasons, especially currently, for keeping an eye on my stats); and then a few people told me Horace was gone. My especial thanks go to a very nice person named Sam, who took the trouble to come back and give me not only details but also the link to This is Local London (no, seriously, wasn't that proper nice of them? I think it was).

As I have already written at length about how peculiar I find this thing, the way it seems to illustrate the Global Local Village phenomenon, I am not going to go on about that again. I'll just note that it is peculiar, okay? Not going on. But maybe, just maybe, I'll come back to this if and when I get my head round talking a bit on the 6 degrees syndrome – which sorta annoys me, you know, whilst fascinating me also – and if and when I do, I don't want to be explaining it all in detail, okay, I want to be able to just say "as illustrated by the Horace incident" or something similar, please? Thank you. 

In the meantime: we are gathered here today, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls and other, to pay homage to someone whom evidently very, very, very many knew; or at least knew of. Hats off to Horace, hats off to strange, unusual people everywhere, hats off to all those whom we all see but whom perhaps nobody knows. Hats off to mankind in general, when it is childish, small, harmless, weak, lovable, needing protection. Hats off, and if you feel like shedding a tear – just a general wee droplet, no need to get all silly, right, and we don't need to weep for Horace, at least not for him alone, for we can surely have a little sniffle for all things that leave us, as well as for us stranded here, looking back at life – you know what I mean –

Ruth really is stranger than Richard, as they say, wouldn't you agree?

(PS And really weirdly, I wasn't the Finnish person at the bottom of that list, either)

*yes, I don't count anywhere in Britain as "more exotic". Sorry about that. Also, including British places would have made the list ridiculously long. Just believe me when I say that they are numerous, please. 

** aka the God of All Agnostics


Reading the Signs said...

Oh my goodness - I remember that post well, and what a lovely one it was too. I am so glad that people have found it - presumably when looking for something about Horace.

Yes, hats off to those special, good people, Schwes. And hats off to you too x

Anna MR said...

Hang on a minute there, Schwesterleinchen. Keep yer hat on; for my scribbles aren't worth your bared head.

Yes – from time to time, you know, not just now that Horace has died or that time in 2009 when the rumour was he had been stabbed, but generally, from time to time, even when my blog has lain buried under a foot of dust, not a soul entering for months, I still have had regular, weekly if not daily, hits with the search word "horace" (in multiple spellings, as well). Off and on I've thought to mention it somewhere, you know, "this blog is about Horace".

And of course, the associations come, my long-gone Finchley life, about which I have nobody I could reminisce with. My life is a patchwork of lives, Signskins, the only continuity being – me.

That may be why I want to write about my memories from time to time.