A few roaming thoughts Fry related and such

A few months ago, when I was in London, there were two books which keep catching my eye when I popped into the bookstores for a look-around and also in the newsstands when I was waiting to catch my next train or plane, and one of them was The Fry Chronicles by Stephen Fry.  I did not buy it for who knows what reason, but eventually (two months ago) I came across an advance copy of it and was happy to finally have it.

As luck would have it, my hoarder/cheapskate friend sent me a link to some free or cheap thing that was being on offer in the city, which I looked at but quickly dismissed as having absolutely no interest to me (I forgot what it was, but probably some kind of open bar slash promotion for some television series or magazine).  Well, since I was on that site, I gave it a quick glance of the freebies and events, and most of them were of the same kind of variety but there was an announcement that Stephen Fry would be giving a little talk and signing his book in a few weeks' time.  I most quickly wrote the date down in my calendar and even more quickly erased the "New York for cheap" or "New York for cheapskates" site from my memory until this evening with this here post.

Last evening was the Stephen Fry talk, where from his very entrance (met by a standing ovation by many, including myself to get a better view but which I suddenly realized I was quite happy to have done, given my deepening interest in both the work and the man himself) and there was an immediate electricity that I could not deny in my own feelings, in my own thoughts.  What he said regarding language, and the absolute beauty of it, having recognized this in an early age (ten) after reading Oscar Wilde, struck me again (and again, as I had read this from him and heard it in a similar form in a recorded interview) with being absolutely spot-on- I thought back to how when I was about that age (two years older), I had a similar feeling but I did not realize that there were others who felt this way.

You see, even going to a "good school" with "smart" kids makes not an ounce of difference if they themselves have none of the love or interest in things cultural, and where most of the teachers at such institutions are merely going through the motions.  Thinking back, I can cite a few who tried to give me a nudge in the right direction (especially the late Mr. Robert N. Smith who had the spark himself, Ms Edith Heinlein who saw in this talkative fool something else and encouraged my writing of poetry- which I promptly did but even more quickly laughed at to my dismay time and again in my mind years later and absolute discredit to myself now, Dr Weinberger whose first name escapes me at the moment but who I used to call Doc and was also supportive of my writing but again to my discredit did nothing about and still am floundering in idleness).

Sorry for the diversion, and back to Mr Stephen Fry, but for whomI think I will be unable at this time to express my full thanks to in any detail.  Much too many things are running through my mind regarding him, and I think the essence of it is that he sparked something inside of me which has been slowly rebuilding (ever since reading Simon vB's book and talking to him a little) and I thought and truly felt was dead in me- that something which is a need to write, to read, to live, to enjoy what time in my life is left, to do it properly and brilliantly.

a great smile which he seemed to have for everyone.  a positive individual.