Tuesday, February 27, 2018


This morning, in the waiting room of a local hospital before my dermatology appointment ( a minor skin thing needing occasional review) I watched the people sitting there in total silence, mostly old, mostly grim-faced, and I had an urge to get up and say:

We're all going to die sooner or later so.....let's face the music and dance!

Then I would dance and sing with each one of them. That was the movie in my head. The urge was irresistible but I resisted it.

Another opportunity to change the world missed.


Catalyst said...

Sing. Dance. Sing. Dance.

(repeat, ad infinitum)


(That's for the other folk; I know you don't need it, Natalie.)

Tom said...

Maybe they thought that in an NHS hospital they were going to die sooner rather than later. :) But your instincts were, as ever, laudable.

N. D'Arbeloff said...

Bruce, yes, repeat ad infinitum and beyond! Whatever lies beyond infinity let's keep on dancing and singing there.

Tom, to be serious for minute: of course things go wrong sometimes but I have enormous admiration for the NHS and, as far as I'm concerned, nothing but praise for them. In all the years I've lived in the UK every person I've ever medically encountered in the NHS has been caring, attentive, efficient and professional. Can't say the same for doctors or staff in private practice I've had occasion to consult.

Roderick Robinson said...

I too have recently been visiting dermatology specialists, perhaps for the same reason. On one occasion there was minor surgery followed by stitches at the micro-embroidery level, apparently routine for such facial work. I would have preferred a characterful scar.

In the waiting room I fear I lacked your Seid umschlungen, Millionen! Diesen Kuss der ganzen Welt! attitude, and was unable to suppress the habit of a professional lifetime: curiosity. Were the others also in for similar face jobs? Not so, it seemed.

I applaud your instincts but couldn't have offered dancing - I cannot do it, though I envy those that can. I might have invited them to join me in song. Perhaps:

I will give my love an apple,
Without e'er a core.
I will give my love a house,
Without any door.
I will give my love a palace,
Wherein she may be,
And she may unlock it,
Without e'er a key.

N. D'Arbeloff said...

Robbie, I should bring out the champagne (if I had any) to mark your return to my not-so-humble cyber home. Bienvenu!

I don't think the waiting room people were there for face jobs, neither was I - it was a general dermatology department - nevertheless their features were set in grim or perhaps stoic mode, similar to that Grant Wood painting of a farmer couple. I remember your blog post about skin surgery and hope the micro-embroidery was successful.

What German I knew as a French child with a German nanny has long since vanished so I'm afraid I can't translate (apart from 'Millionen') your quote. Bitte?

You've chosen a song I'm very fond of, I even used to sing it in the days when Reg (ex) played guitar and we had a repertoire.

Roderick Robinson said...

"Be embraced ye millions,
This kiss for the whole world."

Schiller's Ode to Joy; the words appear in the final movement of LvB's Ninth Symphony.

The micro-embroidery was - and is - admired by many.

N. D'Arbeloff said...

LvB and Schiller...I should have known, of course. Merci et a bientôt.