Variety — the Strife of Life..?
December 1, 2011 § Leave a comment
Your variety is late.
That is the short form situation for something I am not enjoying one bit. And, frankly, I am too tired to do anything about.. in this mid-thirties afternoon heat I never envisaged buying into.
Save explaining a younger guy’s hard lesson late 80s/early 90s. He had come over to attend a meet if he could that one of his peers was about to give voice to on a kiwi campus. On the way he took in a broadcast which ended on a positive note: the meet was public. He could attend, he figured, if he got on down there and grabbed a ticket or admission tote.
This he did, but at the campus counter the telephonist told him it was a private meeting, and only for university members etc. Believing there to be some mistake he called staffers, each confirming her message. Till finally he got onto his peers host for the occasion. Private, this guy said, someone lied and you’ve been taken for a ride.
Years later this same fellow recalled your variety’s voice in a chance meeting. To tell of how such things were possible in what he termed the politics of media. Of how managed media – first cousin to administered (supplyside) economics – splayed its trade. Each entity per its influence. In politics this, loosely stated, ran something like 40 percent of the vote = 40 percent of the media’s attention. Five percent for five percent. And so on.
For servicing the public proxy, balance was invariably attained by having differing voices. In the US such wording was too deft; partisan said it. There. BTW, over the years there has come to reach here, maturer journos recognising this and mebbe running for cover. Any which way. From immature takeover.
Oops! I digress. Administrations changed people. Some for the better. Your variety hoped. As he took in the times, the changes.
Talked with rellies who also felt the need. Shared disappointments, celebrated successes. Helped and took some pleasure for themselves in your variety evolving dna. Variety would come back. Mebbe lay claim.. certainly to self-conquered aims. T’would be a purple pump occasion.
Yep, that was the deal. At the very same ( perhaps earthquaked) campus. Purple pumps—who the hell else would be wearing purple pumps in a crowd of.. conservative scientists or whatever?
Then the message – right out of the blue skies your variety was looking out to with a heart full of love – from life in a tube. Grounded. No outs. Just still, stay cool. Figure all those reconnects and.. and.. mebbe burn a little more fuel.. Hours passed, moves declined, speedo zero.. darkness and… all those unhappy conflicted people.. administered by WTF.. back floods the past. Someone lied, this time ..
Your variety is like that. Aint no ducking responsibility once you’ve rejigged.
Excusez-moi.. this is hard to do.. needs bloody attishoo.!
So.. if you see those purple pumps any time soon and you’ve gotten the right hold.. this will tell you what you’ve won.
And if you haven’t .. don’t. I can’t do anymore. Immediately. For variety. Variety for variety is where it’s at. Now.