Letters To A Kingfisher - 1

I break with my own convention of writing "of" this or "of" that, because I think this sequence of messages to myself (although admittedly theoretically also to the rest of the world) will have a different feel and purpose. A friend, a fellow songwriter, noticed I was getting low. We were both in a Zoom meeting and he followed the meeting up, with a personal message on one of the social websites we both use, to express his concern. For that I thank him. He was correct. I am finding it increasingly difficult to keep my spirits up in this horrible time. I am confined to a beautiful and remote spot in the Fens and most days are beautiful and sunny, but the motivation to do or be anything worthwhile is leaving me standing while it gallops away apace. Songwriter Friend (SF for short, although that does bring to mind a Pretty Things album that sums the mood well) suggested I address a series of letters to the kingfisher. Few members of the homo sapiens community will read them if the experience of this blog is anything to go by, and almost certainly no one will respond to this stream of consciousness. That is perfectly acceptable to me. If I wanted a response I'd write something on, say, Twitter. I think that any further blog posts under the heading of "Letters To A Kingfisher ..." or labelled "Kingfisher Letters" should, however, be considered more extreme self-indulgence than usual and avoided like a ... virus? I may read these back in a year's time and choose to delete them all.

A few weeks ago I thought I would make a lighthearted reference to my irritation at being unable to alter or get a refund for some European rail tickets I had booked to a friend's concert. The concert was the opening of a twenty-date European mainland tour and most of the shows had been sold out. I also booked overnight accommodation since the journey on the three trains there was going to take me six hours. It was a birthday present to myself on the occasion of what would once have been a significant birthday. It is no longer significant, because the government changed the rules and I have to wait an extra year for my seniority. Having mentioned the pension, I feel I now have to make reference to the appalling scam perpetrated on women who were diddled out of six years of their pensions, but I shan't ... oh bugger ... and, oh, that's just like the women who have to tell me that FGM is a far bigger social issue than MGM, whenever I sing "Circumcision". They're probably right, but my song is what it is. If they feel so strongly they could always write their own bloody songs and, no, that doesn't feel better.

These days it appears that people are not allowed to express an opinion without being "called out" on it. I appreciate that there are points of view that endanger other people and these should probably be challenged, specially when expressed in a public forum, but chiding me for expressing disappointment felt excessive. To be honest it took me back to the time I was made to stand in the corner of the dining room in junior school for returning the pea my mate, Glen, flicked at me across the table. I wasn't a naughty boy (not often anyway - although to be fair Glen frequently was - I think that's why we became friends) and being made to stand in the corner felt like an unjust response to something that was simply amusing. If the dinner lady disapproved of what we were doing a verbal warning would have sufficed to deter me from continuing the game. 

But no, it seems my feelings of disappointment are invalid in light of the "bigger picture". I managed to get refunds for the hotel and the show has been rebooked for next year, but I seem to be able to do nothing about the trains. A friend who is on the verge of being designated "Third Troll" decided a telling-off was required. Verge? No dammit, I now have a 3 trolls on social media. I could hear the disapproval in the message as I read it and see the expression of disgust on the face of the writer in my imagination. Yes, 3rdT has daughters on the front line of medical care and is worried to distraction for their safety. If 3rdT feels my worries are trivial in comparison, that is a valid opinion. I am ready to acknowledge that and offer whatever degree of support and sympathy remain within my power to offer, but to be shamed in public for a triviality seems disproportionate. I don't know how helpful it is for anyone to play "my woes are bigger than your woes, so what are you moaning about?" Still less do I want to graduate to the other game - you know, the one that starts "look what I'm doing for the good of the nation, what are you actually doing?" 

As it happens I had actually prepared the ground on this occasion. Every penny counts and all my work disappeared over the course of two or three days while I was still in France. My concern was that I could not get a refund or re-book the travel for a later date. Somehow I am expected to support a huge and  international organisation because it is withdrawing its service when I am not entirely clear how I can afford to put flour in the bread-maker, assuming I can find any on shop shelves to purchase. Okay that is an exaggeration, I can probably afford it, but my situation is not exactly secure. The self-employed sole-trader is not at the head of the queue for the government's 80% offer.

Bearing in mind I have somehow acquired three trolls, all of whom were once undoubtedly my friends, I have given up trying to articulate a point of view and more recently I have even stopped sharing interesting articles on social media. Responding to every rant they write takes hours. I try to do it with politeness, depth and with more light than heat. If they actually change my mind by something they have researched that may have been news to me beforehand I acknowledge that and thank them. Mostly though, what I see when they post to my page is just ranting; often having little to do with the subject I raised. First and Second Trolls, have hobby-horses, favourite subjects they like to introduce into any and every discussion. First sees socialists and anti-Semites everywhere while Second sees "remoaners". I am sick of trying to be reasonable and I am worn out with trying to be polite. The fire may return eventually, but at the moment, the ashes are not glowing brightly on my sense of humour and I am not just self-isolating, but self-censoring. This has been going on for weeks.

I guess what has brought this to a head is that another friend of mine posted something about trees. Because she had tagged me her post attracted the attention of all three of my trolls and they responded very true to form. It was horrible to see this feeding frenzy. My friend is autistic and I have no idea how she has taken the verbal duffing-up she has just received. 

I want to be kind, but some people make it very hard.

Dear Kingfisher,

Thanks so much for listening.

Lots of love,

marsh
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